#HE ALMOST MADE Q3

[mo-mode]

Ollie’s dad is everyone watching an 18yo speeding around Jeddah during qualifying

[vivwritesfics]

Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1

Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.

Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader

1.6K

Masterlist

Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.

If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.

On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.

Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.

Singapore was hot, hot, hot.

As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.

The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.

Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.

As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.

It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.

Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.

When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.

But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.

Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).

After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.

By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?

Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.

"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."

Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.

By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.

Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.

"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Just tell me!"

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.

Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.

Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.

Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.

She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.

"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."

The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.

But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.

With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.

She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.

When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.

When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.

Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.

Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.

When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.

No, it was too much for him.

"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.

But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.

When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.

"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.

"What stopped you?"

[sunny44]

Pole position and broken wrist

Pairing: Max Verstappen x GF!reader

Warnings: broken wrist, medical center, medications etc…

Summary: Where Y/n broke her wrist on qualifying day.

It was one of those days when everything seemed to be in the right place. I woke up with Y/n by my side, her hair spread out on the pillow and a serene smile on her face. The sun was shining outside, and I felt a positive energy in the air. Today was qualifying day, and confidence was high. The car was fast, and the team's work had been impeccable throughout the weekend.

Y/n and I had a special ritual on race Saturdays. After breakfast in the motorhome, we would go to the paddock together. She was known for her vibrant personality and, of course, for her ability to get into unusual situations. I still remember when she spilled a tray of drinks on the team boss during her first visit to the paddock. But those moments, no matter how chaotic, only made me love her more.

We arrived at the paddock, and Y/n quickly started interacting with the mechanics and engineers, drawing smiles and laughter. It was impossible not to be infected by her light and carefree spirit. While she mingled, I focused on the qualifying session ahead. I knew she would be there supporting me, as always.

The qualifying session started, and the car was perfect. I managed to top the timesheet right in Q1, and that pace continued until the end. When I crossed the finish line in Q3, with pole position secured, my heart raced with excitement. I knew Y/n would be waiting for me in the garage, ready to congratulate me with that smile that made all the problems in the world seem insignificant.

But when I returned to the garage, something was off. I didn't see Y/n anywhere. Usually, she would be jumping with joy, ready to give me a celebratory kiss. Instead, I was greeted by worried looks from the team members. Before I could ask what was going on, one of the mechanics, Dave, approached me, a concerned expression on his face.

"Max, there’s been an accident... with Y/n," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

My heart froze. "What happened?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

"She was walking through the paddock, and you know how she is... Always bumping into things. Apparently, she tripped and fell. She tried to grab onto a metal structure but ended up slipping and falling hard. She broke her wrist."

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. The image of Y/n, hurt, flooded my mind, and a sense of panic started to grow inside me. "Where is she now?" I asked, already moving towards the garage exit.

"They took her to the medical center here at the circuit. She was in a lot of pain, but they said she's going to be okay. They just need to immobilize her wrist and maybe take her for more detailed exams."

Without wasting any more time, I ran towards the medical center. Everything around me seemed like a blur. The people, the sounds, even the noise of the engines... It all disappeared. The only thing that mattered was getting to Y/n.

When I entered the clinic, I found her sitting on a bed, with an expression of pain mixed with frustration. Her arm was already in a temporary splint, and the doctor was beside her, explaining what they would need to do next.

"Max!" Y/n exclaimed when she saw me, her eyes shining with a mix of surprise and relief.

"Y/n, what happened?" I asked, approaching her, feeling a wave of relief seeing her conscious and talking, even though she was visibly uncomfortable.

She gave an embarrassed smile, something she always did when she was in trouble. "I’m a complete klutz, Max... I tripped over one of those damn toolboxes and, trying to balance myself, ended up falling. And, well... you know the rest."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and sitting next to her.

"Is it hurting a lot?"

"Yes, it hurts like hell."

"Do you have any idea how much you scared me?" I asked, taking her free hand and intertwining our fingers.

"I'm so sorry... It wasn’t my intention to ruin your pole day," she replied, with a pained little laugh.

"The only thing that matters to me right now is that you're okay," I said, kissing her forehead gently. "And, look, we’re still going to celebrate this pole. We’ll just do it at your pace, okay?"

She smiled again, this time more confidently, and nodded. "Sounds like a good plan."

The doctors entered and started discussing the next steps, mentioning the need to take her to a hospital outside the circuit for a more detailed X-ray and possibly to cast her wrist. The idea of her having to spend the rest of the race weekend with a cast worried me, but the relief of knowing it was "just" a broken wrist calmed me down.

After a few hours, we left the hospital with her wrist properly casted. I insisted we return to the motorhome and spend the rest of the day there, away from any potential dangers in the paddock. She hesitated a bit but eventually agreed.

We settled on the sofa in the motorhome, with Y/n lying next to me, her arm carefully propped up on a pillow. The TV was on, showing a replay of the qualifying session, but I hardly paid attention. My focus was on her, making sure she was comfortable and cared for.

"Max, you don’t have to stay here with me the whole time," she said softly, looking at me with a shy smile. "You should enjoy the rest of the day with the team, celebrate the pole."

"I'm exactly where I need to be," I replied, running my fingers through her hair. "Besides, who’s going to take care of you if I'm not around? What if you trip over the carpet now?"

She laughed, though she winced in pain right after. "I really am fucking clumsy, huh?"

"You are, but you’re my clumsy, and I love you for it," I murmured, leaning in to kiss her.

...

The next day, I woke up to the soft sound of Y/n's breathing beside me. Her arm, now casted and propped up on pillows, was a constant reminder of how clumsy she could be. But seeing her there, sleeping peacefully, I knew that even with a broken wrist, she would still make her day and mine unforgettable.

When Y/n finally woke up, the lazy smile she gave me warmed me inside.

"Good morning, champ." she murmured, trying to stretch without moving her arm too much.

"Good morning, clumsy." I replied, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Ready for another day of adventures?"

"More than ready," she said, with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Is it hurting a lot?"

"It’s starting to hurt more now, I think the painkillers are wearing off."

"Well, you stay there while I get dressed and grab your meds." I said, getting up.

"I can get them." She tried to get up but I stopped her.

"No, no. You stay there, safe and sound, I’ll get the meds." She agreed and lay down.

After I went to the bathroom and got dressed, I got her meds and handed them to her. She got up afterward, went to the bathroom, and I helped her get dressed since moving her arm was straining her wrist and hurting.

"Ready?" I asked, putting a Red Bull bucket hat on her head and giving her a peck, making her smile.

"More than ready." She said, and we left the motorhome together. "You know, I was thinking… since I’m going to have this cast on for a while, I’ll make it more interesting."

"Interesting how?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Autographs!" she exclaimed, as if it were the most brilliant idea in the world. "I’ll ask some of the guys to sign it for me. It’ll be a nice memory of this whole thing."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You really are full of ideas, aren’t you?"

"You knew who you were getting involved with when you asked me out," she replied, winking at me and holding my hand.

Y/n was visibly excited, and even with her arm in a cast, she radiated a joy that was contagious.

Lando was her first target. As soon as she saw him, she ran over to him, carefully balancing the cast on her arm.

"Lando! You have to be the first to sign!" Lando, always the jokester, gave a mischievous smile and took the Sharpie Y/n was holding with her free hand.

"So, do you want me to write 'Caution: very clumsy' or something like that?" He asked, as he signed the cast, and Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back her laughter.

"Just sign it, Norris. And make it look nice."

"Alright, bossy." He handed the pen back to her, and after chatting a bit and wishing her well, we went after the next victim.

Charles was talking to some members of his team, but Y/n wasn’t intimidated.

"Charles! I need your autograph, please." she said, waving the cast in his direction, and he smiled warmly, taking the pen.

"I saw pictures of you online with a cast but didn’t know what had happened. Are you okay?"

"I’m better, yeah. I tripped over a toolbox... Long story," she replied, laughing at herself.

"Well, I hope you get better soon," he said, carefully signing the cast with his name and adding a small heart next to it. "And try to stay away from toolboxes for a while."

Carlos was next, and Y/n knew he wouldn’t miss the chance to tease her. When she approached him, he raised an eyebrow and gave her a knowing look.

"Max, you really have to keep an eye on her," Carlos said, laughing. "She’s a danger to herself."

"Tell me about it," I replied, smiling as Carlos signed the cast.

"Y/n, are you collecting accidents now?"

"Let's just say I'm adding a little drama to the weekend," she replied, extending her arm.

"There you go," he said after adding 55 to the end of his signature. "I hope you get better soon."

"Thank you Chili." He gave her a side hug and started walking towards the Ferrari garage.

"Try not to break anything else," he yelled and went inside.

Alex was walking past us when Y/n spotted him. "Alex! Please sign here," she said, and he promptly complied.

He made a neat signature, adding a small trophy to the side. "I hope this brings you luck to recover quickly," he said.

"Thank you, and bring Lily to the next race." He nodded and left.

Oscar was the last one before we returned to the Red Bull garage. He was focused, but when he saw Y/n approaching with that smile that said “you have no choice”, he smiled too.

“Oscar, you’re next on the list,” she said, shaking her cast.

“Honored to be a part of this collection,” he joked as he signed it, drawing a little kangaroo next to his name.

Finally, we made it back to the Red Bull garage, where Y/n handed me the pen.

“Now it’s your turn.” She said smiling.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” I said, taking the pen and thinking about what to write.

I decided on something simple but meaningful. I signed my name, and next to it I wrote, “I love you, my clumsy.”

She looked at the cast and then back at me, her eyes shining with emotion.

“It’s perfect, it’s definitely my favorite signature,” she said, smiling.

The day went on, and soon it was time for the race. Y/n was by my side until the last second before I got in the car. Even with her injured arm, she was there, smiling, supporting me, and reminding me of what really matters. mattered.

When I finally got into the car and got ready for the race, I knew that no matter what happened on the track, I had something very special waiting for me at the end of it all. The race was important, sure, but Y/n… she was the reason I gave my best, on and off the track.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Before the accident X after the accident”

Ps: I’m okay guys, just a broken wrist

[lnfours]

bucket hat protector ™️ | l.n

summary: a blurb about how you’re the only one lando trusts with his bucket hat

warnings: fluff, language, currently signing my soul over to this boy.

masterlist | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the garage was busy, buzzing with excitement as the start of the qualifying race neared closer and closer. you had seemed to somehow lost your boyfriend in the sea of orange, but the quick glimpse you got of the highlighter yellow bucket hat caught your attention. you made your way through, smiling as his eyes met yours and he reached out to pull you closer to him.

“there you are,” you smiled, “lost you for a second, but thankfully you’re very hard to miss.”

you tapped the brim of the bucket hat that sat on top of his curls. he smiled back down at you, taking off his hat before plopping it down onto your head.

“and now it’s your job to protect it with your life.”

you put a hand over your heart playfully, the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet snaking around your wrist, “lando norris is trusting someone with his hats? oh, it’s such an honor.”

he smirked down at you, “only you, baby. no one else.”

you smiled, reaching up and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. the smiles got too wide, your lips breaking the kiss as you brushed back a loose hair from his forehead, “i love you.”

“i love you,” he said, tugging the mask over his head before slipping the helmet on, “i’m serious about my hat though.”

you giggled, helping him do the straps under his chin, “i know, trust me, it’s in good hands.”

his eyes were squinted, a sign that he was smiling in the helmet.

“2 minutes!”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “good luck, i’ll be here cheering you on.”

he nodded, “i love you.”

“i love you.”

you let him slip out of your grasp as he made his way over to the car. as he walked by, you gave oscar a high five, a new pre-race ritual for the two of you, but this time he called back over his shoulder.

“he put you in charge of the hat? you’re a lucky girl!”

you laughed, backing up toward the back of the garage as they rolled the cars out to get started on the race. it was a rainy morning, which meant that this race was bound to get interesting.

once it had started, you kept your eyes glued to the screen in front of you. it had felt like it had been ages by the time Q2 came along, taking a deep breath as lando and oscar kept fighting their way through. you held your breath towards the end of Q2, only letting it go when both mclarens were now safely making their way through to Q3.

and it wasn’t long until you were cheering with the rest of the garage as lando finished Q3 in P2. you clapped, the biggest smile on your face as he made his way back into the garage, the team celebrating upon his arrival.

he thanked his team, eyes looking for you behind the familiar faces. but just like you had seen earlier, the highlighter yellow stuck out in the crowd of papaya. now he understood what you meant when you said he was the most identifiable out of everyone.

he made his way to you as you congratulated oscar, taking off his helmet and tugging the mask from his head. almost instantly, he was wrapping his arms around your waist, yours wrapping around his neck as he squeezed you against him tight.

“i’m so proud of you, you did great.”

sure, he he’d heard it before, but it always felt different coming from you. you could tell it felt different for him coming from you when you met his eyes and they were full of adoration.

“thanks to you,” he said, “not only are you my good luck charm, but now you’re my certified bucket hat protector.”

you laughed, reaching up and taking it off before plopping it onto his fluffy, messy curls, “it’s been an honor, my love.”

he leaned down and kissed you sweetly, “i love you.”

“more than the bucket hat?”

he scrunched his nose and twisted his lips in fake, deep thought. you laughed and hit his chest playfully, letting him take your hand as you made your way to the drivers room.

“i guess i can squeeze you at the top of the podium, right above the bucket hat and those little sausages.”

“so what, stroopwafels are P4?”

his eyes widened, “shit, we might have to do some rearranging.”

you rolled your eyes, laugh echoing through the hallway as he smiled down at you, “never change, lando norris. never change.”

[kroosluvr]

royal trio tennis au sketches and notes and stuff YAYYY YAY

EDIT ALSO I HOPE EVEYRONE LIKES THE SIGNATURES I CAME UP FOR THEM IN 2 SECONDS ON THE LAST SLIDE

(for clarification there r actually 2 persona tennis aus housed in my head

1) this one where royal trio are pro players striving to become intl stars

2) like a persona q3 thing where everyone plays team tennis @ their respective clubs/schools and its fun and awesome)

more notes under the cut

these r gonna be stream of consciousness bear w me ill keep it short bc imlazy

goro is born into the sport bc shido is like an intl tennis superstar but as with canon he dgaf about goro at all. his mom is dead too. etc. he probably never sees his dad except on tv and hes probably tossed around various boarding schools/tennis camps/etc so goro strives to become even BETTER of a player than his dad so 1) shido looks at him and acknowledges him and respects him 2) he can SURPASS him. thats his entire goal. anyway he prob shoulders huge expectations like oh thats ur dad so u must be a good player right and then those expectations he inflcits on himself.

sumire picks up tennis maybe around age 9-10 or so, when before that she did rhythmic gymnastics with kasumi. but even from an early age she was discontented by how Good kasumi was, almost intrinsically, and she had a gut feeling that made her switch tracks to tennis - also a sort of independent sport where SHE HERSELF can succeed on the court, without needing to depend on others. yet she still feels pressured by kasumi's success which gets in her way a lot. she feels determined to carve a name for herself bc THIS is the path she chose, so she better fucking make it count. those expectations on herself weigh heavily as well. in addition i think her parents literally dont gaf like if she becomes an intl superstar (not maliciously they just genuinely want sumire to be happy and dont demand success of her) but she kinda is like "wow they dont expect anything of me because im bad at it? then ill just have to become AMAZING so theyll have to be astounded" kinda thing

meanwhile akira was always a sporty/athletic kid, he doesnt have much attn from his parents so hes just doing whatever. soccer baseball basketball the works. but he picks up tennis at maybe age 13 and hes GOOD. so he immediately gets like scouted and Trained and he like improves in record time. hes real chill and relaxed about it though because he never Needed tennis the way sumire and goro do. hes just out here for fun and games literally. if he wins he wins - but the thing is, akira kurusu hates losing. thats the thing that propels him to the top.

shujin academy is still the same private school we know but they also house a tennis academy known as the shujin tennis academy yeah yeahyaeeayhah and they just train the coolest of players and the royal trio r their pride and joy etc

cont'd here

[thepersonnamedsam]

radio

pairing: the genz!driver x team x 23!grid

summary: some team radios of our beloved genz!driver

warnings: some swearing

note: oh i hope you all will like what i did here, it took me a hot minute, soo, pls don’t be a ghost reader

our genz!driver doesn’t drive for a specific team (pls imagine which ever is your fav), so the colours of the team radio will be violet, bc it’s not used :)

masterlist / taglist

Bahrain 2023

Q2

- „Okay y/n, you made it into Q2! Let’s keep that same pace you had in Q1“

- „Oh did you hear that? Where did Oscar place??“

- „Piastri is out in Q1, P18“

- „Wooh!! Oscar owes me 50 bucks!!! He lost the bet, he lost it! He didn’t think I’d out-qualify him!“

End of Qualifying

- „Good job, y/l/n! Thats P12 for you! Great start of the season“

- „Yeah baby! I’m the new Smooth Operator, Smooth Operator!“

Race

- „Uhm guys, I think there’s something wrong with my car…“

- „What is it, y/n?“

- „I just overtook Charles, how is that even possible?! Wtf guys, am I that fast?“

- „Oh my god, y/n, you had me stressed out here. I really thought you had technical problems for a second“

- „No worries, I’m just faster than a Ferrari“

—

- „Radio check“

- „It’s a cruel summer!“

—

- „Tell me, tell me how we finished, how I finished?!“

- „P11 baby!“

- „Uh, yeah, who’s almost in the points?!“

- „YOU!“

—

Saudi Arabia 2023

FP2

- „Tell me, is Danny here?“

- „Yea, why?“

- „Can you tell him I said hi? Please“

- „Uhm, sure I can, why?“

- „I just promised him yesterday I‘d give him a shoutout from the track, hahaha“

Q1

- „Okay, y/n, let’s get into Q3 today!“

- „Let’s gooooo!“

- „Could you not scream into the coms, please?“

- „WOHOO!“

- „y/n…“

- „Love you“

- „I don’t…“

- „You totally do“

- „I don’t“

- „You dooooo“

Q2

- „P12, good job y/n“

- „Could’ve gone better“

- „It’s a good result, y/n“

- „But still no Q3“

- „Hey, y/n, cheer up, it’s the same result as last race“

- „I thought we improved, I thought I improved“

- „We can still climb up the ladder“

- „As if, I’m not good enough for that many overtakes, I can defend, but that… I don’t know man“

- „Hey hey, listen to me, y/n. You deserve that spot in F1, you’re young and you’re learning with every race, with every test. I know you’ll be champion one day. Maybe not this race, but you’re gonna go far, kid“

- „…“

- „Are you crying, hahaha?“

- „Let me be emotional, dipshit“

- „Oh Lando is gonna have a field day with this, hahaha“

- „Please don’t show that to Lando“

- „Come to the garage first and we can discuss it“

Race

- „Radio check, y/n“

- „Vamos a la playa“

- „Loud and clear…“

—

- „FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SHIT, SHIT, DAMN, WHY DOES IT NEVER GO MY WAY?!“

- „Unfortunate events, retire the car, y/n“

- „UNFORTUNATE?! STROLL JUST STOPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD AND I HAD TO BREAK SO HARD NOT TO CRASH INTO HIM THAT I CRASHED INTO THE WALL!“

- „It is what it is“

- „Don’t meme me, I’m mad… haha, okay, thank you“

Australia 2023

Q2

- „Good pace, y/n, let’s keep it that way and we’ll make it into Q3“

- „Alrighty mighty“

- „Cringe“

—

- „AND THATS P9 FOR YOU“

- „Huh?“

- „P9“

- „I’m into Q3?! Am I really?“

- „Yes! Yes you are!“

Q3

- „Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound of the police“

- „Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound that I need“

- „P10 baby“

- „P10!“

Race

- „Hi y/n, you’re doing really good out there, bring 'em home for me, will ya?“

- „Danny?“

- „Yes?“

- „Hi Danny“

- „Hi, y/n! You’re currently P9, with 0.548s to Piastri“

- „Okay“

- „Let’s push and stay in the points!“

—

- „YOU‘VE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AS 7TH!!!“

- „THOSE ARE 6 POINTS, RIGHT?“

- „YES!“

- „It’s all because of Danny!“

- „I’ll gladly let him know“

Miami 2023

Race

- „I- help!“

- „What’s going on? y/n talk to me“

- „I don’t think my break is working“

- „y/n, we are going to retire then, box box“

- „I’ll try for one more lap“

- „No you won’t“

- „I will“

—

- „I think it’s fine“

- „…“

- „Yea, it’s fine, I can brake normally, hihi, sorry for the worries“

- „You’re a menace, y/n“

Monaco 2023

FP1

- „Monaco baby, the land of pretty people and expensive things, I am home“

- „Why’s that, you’re not from Monaco, y/n“

- „I am pretty and expensive therefore I am home“

Race

- „Radio check, y/n“

- „NOT NOW“

- „Noted“

—

- „I don’t feel pretty“

- „Sucks for you“

- „Man, that’s a shit move“

- „Sucks“

—

- „Okay y/n, you’re currently P11 with 0.639s behind DeVries, let’s push to P10“

- „DeVries? Nyck is P10? What happened?“

- „I don’t know, let’s just push him off of P10“

- „Harsh“

- „I’m a bad bitch“

- „Fuck that bitch“

—

- „Great job, y/n P10!“

- „Where is DeVries?“

- „P12“

- „Who overtook him?“

- „Bottas“

- „HAH!“

- „Be nice“

- „Ugh“

Montréal 2023

FP3

- „You are currently P3, I repeat, you are currently placed on P3“

- „Who’s pranking me? Max? Lando?“

- „No one, you ARE P3!“

- „WHAT?!“

- „Let’s take that pace into qualifying“

- „Uhm, yea, definitely“

Q2

- „What’s my time?“

- „1:18.725“

- „And Max‘s?“

- „1:19.092“

- „WHAT?“

- „You are P1, y/n“

- „Are you kidding me?“

- „I would never“

- „Mhm, but really? P1?“

- „I swear to god, P1“

Q3

- „Fuck! Shit! Holy macaroni fucking meatballs! I crashed, I repeat, I crashed“

- „Yea, we saw, retire the car“

Race

- „P7, good job!“

- „Thanks…“

- „Oh and y/n, you’ve been voted driver of the day“

- „Really?“

- „Really“

- „Firstly, I wanna thank the ground, because without it, I wouldn’t be standing here today“

- „That only works if you’re really standing somewhere, y/n, you’re sitting in an F1 car“

- „Then I’d like to thank my F1 car…“

- „I deactivated your coms“

Austria 2023

Sprint Shootout

- „What exactly is a Sprint really?“

- „Oh my god, really y/n?“

- „No… of course not…“

—

- „Great job, you placed P13“

- „Mhm, thanks… I‘m thirsty“

- „…“

- „Did no one hear me? I want my drink, where is the drink?“

- „You will not have the drink“

- „Oh you waited so long for that, didn’t you?“

- „No…, yes“

- „Kimi is a legend.“

Sprint

- „I don’t like this Sprint thingy“

- „Why?“

- „I don’t know, just because“

—

- „P15“

- „No good job?“

- „Not today“

- „Understandable“

Race

- „I want to go home, I am tired of this“

- „What?“

- „It’s getting boring with Max always leading and winning“

- „Thats why we need to push as hard as we can“

- „As if I’ll ever overtake Max“

- „One day, y/n, one day“

- „But not today, that’s why I want to go home“

- „You can’t“

- „Loser“

Silverstone 2023

FP2

- „Why do I not see Charles on the grid?“

- „Why do you have time to look at the screen and not see Charles on there?“

- „You should be driving“

- „I am“

- „Clearly not fast enough“

- „Hey, I am faster than you think“

- „You are currently driving with a speed of 156 km/h“

- „How do you know that..?“

- „I am your race engineer, I know everything“

- „Did you know that I just farted, hahaha?“

- „Unfortunately“

- „Hihi“

- „You’re gross“

- „Thank you“

- „Welcome“

—

Race

- „If Lewis stands on that podium, he owes me a dinner“

- „And if he doesn’t?“

- „I owe him a pity dinner“

- „And if you stand on that podium?“

- „Thats unrealistic, that’s why we didn’t bet on it“

- „True“

- „HEY!“

- „You said it first!“

- „Not a reason for you to call it out!“

- „Women“

- „I heard that“

- „You were supposed to“

- „Less talking, more driving!“

- „Yes boss“

- „Yes boss“

—

- „Omg, omg, omg, tell me I crossed that line without a single penalty and we don’t get a grid penalty? Please tell me this is true?“

- „YOU ARE P4 Y/N“

- „Am I really?“

- „Yes!“

- „If it weren’t for the safety car you would’ve been P3!“

- „I don’t care! It’s my best result so far!“

- „So near and yet so far“

- „Lew is P3?“

- „Yep“

- „P4 and I get a free dinner from Lew, what a day“

- „Be proud and loud“

- „WOOHOO!!!“

- „Maybe not so loud…“

- „Sorry not sorry“

Hungary 2023

FP1

- „Oh Danny Ric is back on the grid!“

- „Mhm“

- „Aren’t you happy to see my favourite person driving again?“

- „Totally“

- „Be happy!“

- „Okay…“

—

- „Oh… I just passed Danny“

- „You are on your flying lap, he needs to let you pass..?“

- „Yeah… but he needs a positive experience on his first race back…“

- „HES THE ENEMY“

- „He’s my best friend…“

- „Does he know that?“

- „Uhm, I hope so“

Race

- „Tell Lando he’s doing a great job“

- „Just drive“

- „Okay…“

—

- „Lando says thank you, by the way“

- „For what?“

- „Just forget it“

- „Okay“

—

- „Oh, for that! You’re welcome, Landi“

- „It took you 4 laps to realise“

- „My brain is sometimes slow, let me be“

- „I would if I could“

—

- „Oh how I hate Perez“

- „It’s mutual“

- „Hihi“

—

- „Radio check“

- „I am so glad that the summer break is right in front of me, just 33 more laps and it’s me chilling on the beach, getting tan and reading good books and you know, that’s how my dream life looks like and…“

- „How can she be so talkative but still be on for a podium? It’s a mystery for me“

- „And Lando and me oh and Danny will go on vacation together. Maybe Lewis will come as well. I want to go to the Maldives but we’ll see. Oh and you know what would be cool? If we really…“

- „Is she still talking? Yep…“

- „I could learn how to surf and eat loads of stuff and just relax“

- „So you finally decided to stop speaking and concentrate on the race? Great job, y/n“

- „Thanks!“

—

- „Thats P5 for you! What a race to start the summer break“

- „Thank you so much“

- „We’ll see us in 3 weeks!“

- „Byeeeee“

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall

[maxillness]

╰┈➤I’m Sorry || LH44 x Teammate!Reader

Warnings: 18+, sub!Lewis, drivers room sex, handjob, oral (m)

Wordcount: 0.9k

Everyone noticed the different changes in them as they entered the paddock

Her and Lewis always arrived at the paddock together. They didn’t that day

They always were together in the garage. they didn’t even look at each other

It was almost sickening how the atmosphere had changed in the whole garage

Her and Lewis were together, not known by anyone else, and they had a fight that morning

They have had fights before, but not where neither of them wanted to talk to the other

They sat at debrief after qualifying where both of them had done well, both getting into Q3

Lewis realised at FP3 that he was in the wrong, and that he had to apologise. He did try, but she pushed him away every time

They sat opposite to each other around the table. He tried kicking her foot which always made her forgive him

But this time, she moved her foot, crossing it over the other

He picked up his phone, finding her contact

’I’m sorry’

She picked up her phone, glancing at the message. She put the phone back down, looking away from him

’Please, baby’

’I’m sorry’

’Please, don’t ignore me’

’I’ll do anything’

He decided to sent her pictures. Pictures he had saved for just this kind of emergency

She saw he had sent pictures. 3 to be exact

She fidgeted with a pen, trying so hard not to pick up her phone and look at the pictures

She sighed before picking up her phone

She flushed at the pictures, clenching her thighs together

She still didn’t bat an eye at him, but she saw the slight smirk on his lips

Just as the debrief ended, she stormed out of the room and towards her drivers room

Before she could close her door, Lewis got in and closed the door behind him

He snaked her arms around his waist, pulling himself close, hiding his face into the crook of her neck

“Please, baby. I’m sorry. Please” He begged her “Please, i’ll do anything” He took a deep breath before he continued “I’ll be your good boy” He whispered quietly against the skin of her neck

Her hands caressed his arms. He knew what that did to her. Telling her that he’ll be her good boy

“Is the locked?” She asked with a sigh

“It can be” He said, splitting away from her to go over to lock the door

Just as he had turned around, she had him pressed up against it. Her hands on his hips, pinning him against the surface, her lips against his neck

“You’re a whore, Y’know that, right?” She said between rough kisses

“W-what?” He stuttered, his head against the door, his eyes closed, his hands tight on her waist

“Sending me those pictures doing debrief. Whore” She explained, her tongue darting out to lick at his skin

He whimpered softly “Please, baby… ‘m sorry” His hands went to her ass, squeezing her softly

“Mhm. I bet you are” She chuckled, getting down on her knees in front of him

“Fuck” He breathed out, seeing her down on her knees, looking up at him as she unbuckled his belt

“Shirt off, baby” She said, zipping down his zipper

He did it no hesitation, throwing it to the ground while she pulled down his pants and boxers to his mid-thighs

She spit in her hand, wrapping her hand around him. She chuckled slightly at the groan he let out, his head falling back against the door

She started moving her hand, looking up at him through hooded ayes, his own hands gripping her shoulders

He had to bite his hand to not let any sounds out when her thumb traced his slit

“Why you keeping silent? You know I love how you sound, baby” She teased, knowing that he wanted to keep quiet around the team

“You know why- oh fuck” He moaned softly as her tongue darted out to lick over his head

“Because you don’t want the team to hear how good your teammate treats you?” She pouted mockingly, looking up at him, her hand still wrapped around him

“Fuck- yes” He panted softly “You always treat me so good” He whimpered, the grip on her shoulders tightening slightly

She chuckled softly at his whimper, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock, slowly starting to move her head, drawing out small whimpers from him

She pushed his hips roughly against the door, keeping him from thrusting into her mouth like she knew he loved to do

”Please. Let me do it, just once” He said, almost whining

She just glared up at him through hooded eyes, almost like she was giving him a warning, which only resulted him into a pathetic whine

She started moving her head faster, her tongue dragging along the vein she knew was sensitive for him

“F-fuck” He stuttered breathlessly “Please. I’m close” He panted. You could see how hard he was trying to hold back any sounds

She gags slightly around him which sends him over the edge, his body shaking as she came down her throat

She pulled off of him once he had gone soft again, swallowing before she got up from her knees, caressing his jaw softly before gripping his chin tightly

“If you ever pull a stunt like that doing a meeting again, there’s no sex for a week. Understood?” She asked roughly

He nodded as well as he could “Yes, ma’am” He chocked out

“Good boy” She praised before helping him into his clothes again

[no-144444]

a story for a dinner party- l.lawson

Day 12 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend, whatever will you do? (fuck.)

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Liam sighed as he entered the lift. Austin was going to be more than hard. Replacing Daniel, having his seat next year in the balance, the pressure to perform, it was all too much. He knew he could do it, but he also knew how much o f a target was on his back. He needed to score points, he needed to get into Q3, he needed to-

“Morning,” you smiled as you entered the lift. It was mid-day, neither of you cared.

“Morning,” he said breathlessly. 

“How are you doing?” You asked, pressing the button for your floor as the doors closed. 

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Well, you have all of their support, you know what you’re capable of and even if you don’t finish where you want to, that won’t give them reason to boot you, alright?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. He looked relaxed as you ran your fingers through his blonde hair, and you almost laughed at the way his body tension dissipated the second you touched him. 

“Thank you-“ 

And the lift stopped. It lurched you both back as the lights flickered, and ultimately went out. 

“FUCK!” He screamed, his voice going higher than you’d ever heard it. He grabbed onto the railing as you started rummaging in your bag for your phone, trying to get some light. 

“You alright?” You asked, searching for his hand in the dark. 

“Where are you?” He asked, panicked. The lift shook as you tried to step closer to him. "Stop moving!"

"I'm not moving!" You grabbed ahold of his hand and he let out a shriek. “I’m here, grab your phone and shine a light Liam.”

He took a deep breath and nodded as you turned on your phone flashlight. “What do we do?” 

“Press the emergency button, duh,” you chuckled. He nodded, calming down. 

You pressed the emergency call button and explained your predicament, and they told you it would be an entire hour before they could get someone to help you. You sighed but thanked them anyway, and Liam just continued to panic. 

“What the fuck are we going to do? How many levels are we up? What if we fall?” He catastrophized,  his brain going a mile a minute. You’d both sat down with your head on his shoulder.

“We’re like 8 floors up, we’ll be alright Liam,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We’re alright.”

He shook his head. “I-I can’t miss this meeting, and I’m fucking missing it-“

You couldn’t stand it anymore. The fucking whining. You pressed your lips against his, straddling his lap. He needed to shut up and stop thinking, what’s a better way to do that than fuck him?

“W-we can’t do this here,” he said breathlessly. 

“Why not?” You ask between kisses. His hands wandered up your sides and pulled you impossibly closer. 

“T-there could b-be cameras-“ he groaned when you bite into his neck, sucking on it harshly. 

“There’s no fucking power Liam,” you whispered. “And we have about 40 minutes until firefighters get here to rescue us. Let me help you out.”

He looked unsure but abandoned his worry when you started grinding down on him and he didn't complain after that. Then, it was all hands, lips and heat as he kissed you back, just as horny as you were. Something about this got both of you off, it was like you were fucking in public or something, Liam made a mental note to talk about it later.

He started unbuckling your belt as you sucked hickey after hickey into his neck with a smirk on your face.

"Please baby-" he groaned. You didn't need to be told twice. You took his cock in your hand and spit on it, slowly jerking him off. "Fuck," he whispered. "Please don't-"

"Tease you?" you finished for him with a smirk. Your smirk dissipated as his fingers found their way beneath your panties. He slowly circled your clit as you jerked him off as slowly as you could. Both of you were desperate, but neither of you could let the other one win.

That was until you came all over his fingers with a moan and he grabbed your hips and sat you on his cock, thrusting into you hard.

"You fucking dick," you moaned, clawing at his back. "You didn't cum yet."

"Exactly, I fucking win," he smirked cockily, biting into your shoulder as you fucked back down onto him, trying to make him cum prematurely. He spanked your ass hard. "Don't fuckin' do that."

You moaned into his mouth as his lips met yours in a searing kiss, and came on his cock. If he was good at one thing, it was fucking you just the way you liked it.

“Hello?” Someone from the sliver of open door called into the elevator. 

“Oh fuck-“ Liam scrambled to get up and gather his things. 

“Hi,” you smiled at the firefighters, redressing yourself. “Thanks for getting us out of here.”

They gently helped you down, and though Liam’s departure from the lift was less than graceful (it is hard to get out only using one hand, especially when the other is holding a jumper to his crotch to cover his hard-on), you both went your separate ways with a kiss and smile (his was more of a grimace). 

What? It was a good story for a dinner party, right? And you got two orgasms out of it.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[zyonsay]

Hii! I love your works! I wonder if you could write Fernando Alonso x Male reader fluff? There´s almost no content of him (with a male reader). If you decide to do it, thanks then! ily <3

La côte française FA14

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: Nando decides to interrupt your interview

Warnings: one (1) ass smack, an overwhelming amount of bubbles

Now playing: F1 Thirst traps on my Insta feed

AN: Hey there dear anon! Im SO sorry for taking so long to write this, but i have never written for Fernando before. This was difficult because i don't really know much about him, also this is kind of short for the same reason, but i hope you can still enjoy it!

Fun fact: i speak broken french

i probably won't deliberately write for Nando again (unless requested), but for this time im glad to help a fellow male reader out. Lots of love to you anon <3

“Uhh, yes. I did have some trouble there, but ultimately, everything went well! I’m looking forward to Sunday to- “, your Interview was cut short by someone giving you a hefty slap on the bum. Turning around, you saw none other than the man, the myth, and the legend: Fernando Alonso.

“Oi, Cabron”, you mimicked his voice as both of you smiled and laughed at his antics. The reporter smiled awkwardly, probably because they wanted to continue interviewing you about your Q3. “You two seem to be good buddies, any plans together for the summer break?”, this made you shoot a knowing look over at Nando, who was now clinging to your shoulder.

You were about to open your mouth to speak as the man in Aston martin green spoke up.

“We actually planned on going on holiday in France, to go surfing and swimming!”, though he didn’t mention the next part. Fernando had rented a fancy sailing boat, with which you planned on travelling around the coast of France. This voyage wasn’t for a random occasion too, of course not.

The both of you have been dating for almost two years now and just recently Nando had shared the idea of going on a trip as a sort of anniversary gift. You were very happy with him, he always made sure to bring a smile, even if only a faint one, to your face. He was like the warm sun in your blue sky. He was the pristine, blue water at the coast of France, and he was the wind in your sails. The race season has been tough for you and your team, but a little bit of a break will be good for your sore, overworked muscles. And just in case you had a silly Spaniard by your side to help you relax.

The interviewers face lit up at the mentioning of your plans and interrupted your train of thoughts by asking another question, “Amazing! So, if you don’t mind, let’s get back on topic: Q3!” This was Fernando’s cue to leave, but not before giving your shoulder a hearty squeeze and whispering something along the lines of ‘see you later.’

Well, later was now, as you finally arrived at the Hotel you’d been staying in during the race weekend. Nando had slipped into your bathroom to run a bath, while you were peeling off your clothes in the bedroom.

You walked in, not expecting to be greeted by giant heave of bubbles in the bathtub. Fernando was completely covered in the foam, slyly grinning at you. “I added a bit too much...”

Giggling quietly, you slipped into the bubbly mess of a bath.

"Thanks Nando"

[papaya-queen]

THE ALCHEMY – Paul Aron x Y/N

Hey ! I've written some new stuff ! This is a Paul Aron x reader inspired by the song The Alchemy by Taylor Swift. As always, if there's any mistakes please tell me. Hope you like it :)

word count : 1011

Paul was one of the best rookies the F2 championship had seen in a while. Having at least one podium every weekend, leading the championship... The list of achievement was long, enough to make Mercedes regret their decision of letting him go. Having one the F1 team practically begging for you to back to their academy was a great feeling but something was missing. Something that would make enough impact for him to be considerate in the F1 seats for the next season.

His maiden win

He wanted to come out on the market as a winner and not only a good driver. He would prove to everyone that he could go to F1. He wanted to bash Mercedes and go elsewhere. He had the car, the talent, the confidence, he just needed the moment. Now, for the Silverstone Grand Prix, he was more determined than ever. Especially with his girl in the crowd.

Y/N and Paul were high school sweethearts. They met in an assemble one time, becoming friends, best friends. Eventually, one time after class, Paul had the confidence to ask the girl on a date. You could say it went well. They were now together for almost 3 years. When they graduated, Y/N started going to Uni, she wanted to become an engineer in motorsport. She could not attend all of Paul’s races, but they made it work. She went to one or two weekends and Paul would always fly back to Tallinn. They supported each other like no one. Paul would always talk about your great achievements in Uni and Y/N could not stop yapping about her boy leading the F2 Championship. She was more than exited to finally come to a race. The finals ended and she was enjoying her break. Paul and she choose Silverstone as their together race weekend.

They took the plane to London early in the week to spend a few days off. Enjoying the beauty of England, shopping, chilling together. They got I ❤️ London matching shirts, took pictures, ate in restaurants. Living like a normal couple. Sometimes, a fan or two would interrupt their time but they were the kindest heart, always took the pictures and chatted a little.

Friday came fast. Paul was in the Hitech motorhome, preparing his qualification session, putting his fireproofs on, training his reflexes, revising the track. Y/N was chilling on the couch, watching her boy. He settled newt to her, leaning in her touch as she started brushing his blonde curls.

“You’re going to kill this, love!” she said. They cuddled on the couch for a long time before the quali. Inevitably, Paul had to go in the car. Y/N followed him, helping with his helmet, reassuring him as much as she could.

He went out in quali, easily passing Q1 with the best time. He continued the quali confident, setting yet again the best time in Q2. Then in Q3, he pushed the car to the limit, setting an incredibly good lap. Ollie came with a better lap just after. With only 1:00 left, Paul went and pushed the car again. He gained time in every sector, hopping it would be enough to take the pole. As he finished his lap, his engineer screamed in the radio:

“AND THAT’S POLE POSITION,1.2 SECOND AHEAD OF P2!”

-

The result of the sprint race was okay. With the reversed grid he was starting P10 and finished P7, grabbing points for his standing. The feature race was starting. From the Hitech garage, Y/N was staring at the screen, hoping that nothing would disturb her boy’s race. He was leading, putting time between him and the second driver. The pit stop was quick, and he did not lose any position just time between him and Ollie who tried to get him. She was holding her breath for the last ten laps. Everything was going so well. Ollie was far behind. Y/N knew it was over for him to try for P1. Paul was pushing even more than before, getting the fastest lap and even more time on Ollie. He crossed the finish line as first and Y/N started crying. She ran outside the garage with the engineers and team. They started chanting his name as he parked behind the P1 sign. He ran over to the team, lifted in the air by all the mechanics. Ollie and Kimi arrived in P2 and P3 and joined the celebration. Even if they were rivals now, they still are teenage boys and best friend. Paul was so involved in his team and friends’ celebrations; he didn’t saw his girlfriend before he climbed the first step of the podium. The tears were still flowing Y/N’s cheeks as the Estonian anthem resonated. She was so proud of her boyfriend. As soon as the anthem ended, Ollie and Kimi grabbed their Champagne bottle and opened them in sink to spray the winner. Paul was drenched in champagne by his friends, eyes closed, stepping down the podium, blinded by the alcohol. He finally managed to dry his face, opening his eyes again. He saw his girl with his team, and he knew he could not wait any longer. He ran down the stairs to the track, leaving Ollie, Kimi, his trophy on the podium. He grabbed Y/N and put her down in front of him. Her hand on his cheeks, his hands in her hair, the slight smell of champagne in the air, the people watching.

“I’m so proud of you, love” she said pressing her forehead against his.

“You’re my lucky charm, Kallis!” He responded before kissing his girlfriend.

The moment was truly magical, like a Disney kind of kiss. All romantic with their friends, the team, the public cheering for them. All of this ruined by Kimi’s idea of pouring the rest of his champagne bottle on the young couple from the podium. Paul and Y/N laughed it off, they could not care more when they were having the moment of their life, looking at each other with the biggest heart eyes.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 16/? Word count: 3815 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 14. To Lead A Team

"Ugh," Matilde groaned when she got the sentence incorrect. Her eyes shot to the hearts in the top right corner of her phone; one heart left for six more exercises. She had days when the Duolingo lessons would go great, but there were more days when she was really struggling to pass one lesson. Italian was tough for her. She wanted to master it since she was one of the few people in the team who couldn't speak the language. Especially since she was the team principal. Plus, the main language to communicate in the team was Italian, so she really wanted to understand the language.

She sat in a meeting room, waiting for the team to arrive. They had a meeting about the upcoming race in Austria. If she was honest with herself, she didn't know what she could expect.

The ambience in the team had changed, once again. After Monaco, there was tension; team Charles and basically team Matilde for once. A few people agreed with Fernando Alonso during the post-race interview:

"But if your driver says that he is coming in, even when you tell him no, you still send the crew out just in case," Fernando said, defending Charles.

But most of the team, agreed with Max during the interview:

Max looked at him. "Yes, but if your team principal, not even your race engineer, but team principal, says not to pit and stay out multiple times, you stay out," he replied, defending Matilde. "If you still go in after being told no, what do you expect?"

It didn't help that Charles remained frustrated. The media picked it up during the following Grand Prix in Barcelona. Even though Matilde moved on and focussed on the next race, Charles kept showing that he felt hurt by the action. And not because it was a consequence of his own action, no, he still blamed Matilde for it. Charles showed it, and he sometimes even dared to spill a thought to the media and dodged and ignored questions about his team principal.

During the Spanish Grand Prix, Ferrari showed an almost perfect pace once again. Friday was a less perfect day, but it was the day to provide feedback and make the right adjustments. On Saturday, both the Ferrari drivers made it to Q3 during qualifying; Charles qualified as third and Carlos as second. Yet again, Max got pole.

On Sunday, during the race, Carlos had a perfect start and almost passed Max in turn one. Carlos gained time and kept following Max for a while before he passed Max and became the race leader. In the end, he won his home Grand Prix. Charles was pleased with Carlos' result, but he couldn't hide his jealousy. Charles finished third, which is a decent result, and he couldn't do more to get a better result. Despite the positive weekend, Charles threw a questioning quote in the media about Matilde and her leadership:

"Look," Charles said in the post-race interview, his frustration clear in his voice. "We had a clear opportunity to win in Monaco, and it was thrown away. I could get more out of this race, but I wasn't allowed to. I can't help but think that sometimes decisions from the top don't align with what's best for the team on the track."

Matilde had an interview herself after the race, praising the work of Carlos and of Charles; they both did everything they could do during the race and she was proud of them. She saw the fragment of Charles when she was back at the hotel and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had supported Charles throughout the ups and downs, and now he was publicly questioning her leadership. It stung, especially since she knew her decision in Monaco had been the correct one, and she knew the team couldn't do more for Charles during the race in Barcelona.

Back at the office, a few days after the race, the team began with fresh motivation, working on the set-up for the next Grand Prix: Canada. Everything went smoothly, the Grand Prix went well for Ferrari; P2 for Charles and P3 for Carlos. Everyone did their tasks during the weekend, but certainly not more.

It made Matilde think. Was she good enough to be a team principal? She had a driver who openly spoke about how he thinks about her, a part of the team was picking the drivers side and the board kept complaining about the way Matilde approaches things. Matilde took a deep breath, closed her Duolingo app, and prepared for the meeting that lay ahead.

The invited people of the meeting entered the room. The drivers, with their race engineers, entered the meeting as the last ones. Laurent Mekies, the race director, opened the meeting with a presentation about the team's progress, accomplishments and long-term goals. He discussed the data from their drivers' sim sessions and compared it with the data from other teams. Austria was coming up, an important race since it was a strong track for both Ferrari and Red Bull. During that Grand Prix, either could win.

Someone asked a question about the team's budget allocation, a critical issue that could determine the extent of their success. Mekies looked at Matilde, passing the question to her. She explained the rationale behind the budget distribution, the sources and expenses.

But Charles seized the opportunity to launch his attack. "With all due respect, Jørgensen," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've been wondering about this budget distribution. It seems to me that you're playing it safe, just like on the track. We need to take risks to win, not settle for mediocrity."

Matilde felt her heart skip a beat, she didn't expect this attack. And the way he called her out by her last name... Her lips parted and her eyebrows slightly raised, she was lost for words. "Charles, I appreciate your input, but we have a well thought-out strategy. It's based on careful analysis and ensures the team's long-term stability." She showed a smile. "I can send you the files, if you prefer to read it on paper."

He chuckled. "Stability? We don't need stability, we need victories. We need to be aggressive, go for it. We can't wait. If we wait, the opportunity has passed us."

"I agree, however, we cannot just go for it when the time isn't right," she shot back with fire. "Once again, I respect your passion for winning, but the decisions we made are not based on impulsiveness, they're grounded in data and experience. I trust the expertise of the team."

"Well," he said, leaning forward against the table as if he were about to deliver a killer blow. "It seems you're more of a manager than a leader. A real leader would listen to the voice of the driver who put his life on the line every race."

The room fell silent. The team exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how she would respond to Charles' provocation.

Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with steel. "A real leader knows when to trust the experts and when to rely on data, not just emotions. Our decisions are calculated for the team's success, which you are also part of, and not to satisfy one individual's ego."

"Why are you taking everything personally?"

"I would like further elaboration," Matilde replied, folding her hands together, straightening her back.

Charles raised his eyebrows and looked at Carlos, blinked and looked back at Matilde. He noticed how involved Carlos' family was during the Spanish Grand Prix and how Matilde reacted to it. As a result: she got invited to a dinner with the Sainz'. Charles saw the Instagram post, apparently it was a home cooked dinner - Charles knew if Carlos invited you over for a home cooked dinner, something was going on.

"Are you referring to the dinner I attended with the Sainz family? It was in recognition of the work during the Spanish Grand Prix and as a gesture of their appreciation due to their courteous nature," Matilde replied to his facial expression and collected some files that were laying in front of her, she liked to sort them and put them neatly back on a stack.

For once, Charles seemed caught off guard. People in the room shared glances; from satisfied to impressed. Charles' expression shifted from arrogance to frustration.

"If someone has to say anything, please do. I rather want to hear it now and prevent rumours, than afterwards when I can't change a thing. I value open communication within our team, but it must be done internally and constructively. We are in this together, not alone, and it is our goal to win together." Matilde shared a look with Charles, who leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes locked on her as if she were a target. Matilde didn't react to his look, but internally, she was tearing apart.

As the meeting continued, Matilde was focussed on her colleagues. She kept her cool, focussing on the facts and logic that underpinned her decisions. She also wrote some notes down for her therapist she was seeing after the meeting. She knew that being the leader of a F1 team came with immense pressure, and she had her ways of coping with it. One of those ways was speaking to a therapist to manage the stress and maintain her focus.

After the meeting came to an end, Matilde stayed in the meeting room. She booked it for some privacy, sitting in her fishbowl office was too confronting for herself and for others to see her talk to her therapist. The session was online, since her therapist lives in Denmark. She preferred to have a Danish therapist, it is easier than having a therapist in a country she didn't even speak the language of - and even though she was almost fluently in English, she still preferred to talk about herself in her mother language.

Matilde glanced at her watch, she still had ten minutes left. She decided to go to the cafeteria to grab some fruits and a snack. While she was at the cafeteria, she thought about the moment she knew she needed to see a therapist.

It actually started after Miami, after the incident, when she sat on the plane to Copenhagen with Kevin. After their conversation, Kevin messaged Lars, saying he was worried about Matilde's well-being, but that it was not up to him to say something about it. He thought it was more comfortable for Matilde to hear it from her brother than a fellow Dane who she knew, but who also happened to be friends with her brother. So when Matilde arrived at her mother's house to celebrate her mother's birthday, Lars took Matilde outside for a talk, since he also was concerned about her well-being.

"Mati, are you seeing a therapist?" Lars carefully mentioned.

They sat down on a bench next to the pond in the backyard of their mother's house.

"Why?" Matilde frowned.

He shrugged. "I think it would do you well to talk to someone," he said and looked at his younger sister; she was looking in front of her, clenching her jaw. "I have seen the tweets about the restaurant. And I know you well enough to know that you would have spent the evening with your team instead of Red Bull if there was nothing going on."

Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed. "I know," she whispered and she told him about what happened. "I'm on the waiting list, I'm working on it, but I can't make the procedure go any faster," she finished her story.

"Ferrari has therapists, right? Why are you on a waiting list at Ferrari? You are basically the most important person at Ferrari."

"I'm sure there are therapists at Ferrari, but I don't want a therapist at Ferrari, not within the team or someone who has connections to the team - even if it is externally. I called at the beginning of this season, Christian recommended it. I'm still not through it, as you see," she shrugged and dried her eyes.

Lars nodded and he hugged her. "Fair. But who did you call to still be on the waiting list after three months?"

"Alma."

"Alma? Alma, who helped us through the divorce of mum and dad?"

Matilde nodded into his chest. "I thought it would be familiar to call her. She helped us through the divorce, even though I am still convinced that the divorce did not have that much effect on us. Anyway, I want to talk about my troubles in Danish, not English or cracky Italian."

Lars nodded. "Understandable. And you know, the divorce had an effect on us, but we haven't noticed it. Alma helped us through it. Those people can see what it does to someone, and even when it does nothing." He grabbed his phone. "Is it for work or personal?"

"Work," she mumbled. "What are you doing?"

Her brother raised his phone to his ear and ignored the question. A polite smile came on his face. "Hello, this is Galileo, Matilde Jørgensen's assistant. Yes, hello."

Matilde straightened her face and she slapped him on his arm.

He pushed her away and raised his finger to silence her. "I'm calling to ask for an update on the waiting list." He listened. "Yes, I am fully aware that this is confidential, but it is urgent." He nodded. "I know, but we have to plan the sessions. Do you know who she is? She is the team principal of Scuderia Ferrari in Formula 1. I don't know if you know Ferrari, but it is a circus and she desperately needs someone to talk to because it's causing mental health problems." He was silent again. "Matilde instructed for work only, but it will be a better plan to do work and personal. Yes. I will give you to her. Thank you. Yes. Have a nice day." Lars gave his phone to his sister. "Make your appointments ASAP," he said.

And since Miami, she didn't see just one therapist, but two therapists; one for work and one for her personal state. Every three weeks she would see Alma to talk about her personal life, and every week she would see Otto to talk about her work. And she had to admit, she was glad her brother pushed through. She couldn't imagine how it would be if still didn't have someone to talk to. It was a sense of relief and she had the feeling she could continue her adventure more easily, the balance came back in her life.

Today she had to see Alma, and it was the perfect timing, almost like it was planned this way. After a visit at the cafeteria, Matilde came back with hot tea, an orange and a nut bar. She took a deep breath and entered the scheduled Teams call.

When Alma popped up on her screen, she felt a sense of comfort over her.

"God eftermiddag, Matilde," Alma greeted Matilde with a kind smile.

A smile came on Matilde's face. "Hej."

"Hvordan har du det?" Alma asked, curious to know how her client was doing.

Matilde leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. "I'm fine," she replied and nodded. "It's been a busy week, a busy couple of weeks, actually."

"How do you feel about having a second session? What were your thoughts after the first session?"

"It's much needed," Matilde replied. "I feel like it helped, even though it was just the first time."

"Can you describe your feelings about it?"

Matilde looked away, she looked at the wall next to her. "A sense of relief, I think. Uhm..." She looked back at the laptop screen. "I'm aware of the job I have, but it also requires a lot of effort and energy, and it feels good to talk about it, to find ways to manage everything. Uhm... Also to explore my personal challenges, I guess."

The therapist wrote something down and nodded once again. "That is good to hear. From what I can remember from when you were younger, a young girl, you also had a sense of realism and soberness. I can hear it in your way of thinking now as well," she warmly smiled. "But how have you been feeling lately?"

They talked about Matilde's personal life, discussing her family, friends, other relationships, her emotions in work and the different emotions that had surfaced in the past three weeks. Alma listened and provided guidance and support, helping Matilde navigate her feelings and come to a deepening understanding of herself.

"I know you talk with Otto about your work," Alma began. "But what are your feelings towards your position now? Last time you mentioned you were still figuring out what your thoughts are on your position. What are your thoughts today?"

Matilde played with the red wristband and twirled it around her wrist. "There are days where I feel like I am on the top of my game," she mentioned, her voice wavering slightly as she struggled to find the right words. "But sometimes I'm thinking about quitting."

"Why?"

Tears welled up in Matilde's eyes, and she blinked them back, her emotions getting the better of her. Alma was a safe space, but Matilde was still at the office. She was afraid someone would walk in and see her cry, a sign of weakness. But in this moment of vulnerability, she felt a flood of pent-up emotions rushing to the surface. "I want to be the best team principal I can be to the team," she continued, her voice quivering with emotion.

"You say 'the' team, why not 'my' team?" Alma observed.

"It isn't my team, it doesn't feel like my team," Matilde whispered and looked away from the laptop. She sniffed. "I joined an existing team, I became part of the team, but it doesn't feel like my team." It was silent, Alma gave Matilde time to think. "I sometimes just wonder if I'm cut out for this role."

Alma nodded, her warm and understanding presence a source of comfort. "It's completely natural to have doubts and moments of vulnerability, Matilde. Your role is incredibly demanding, and it's okay to acknowledge the pressure you're under."

Matilde wiped away a tear that had escaped, her emotions now more visible than ever. "I just don't want to let anyone down," she confessed. "I don't know if I can do it. I feel like I am flogging a dead horse." She looked at Alma again. "Quite literally and figurally." Matilde dried her eyes. "I have to lead a team who didn't welcome me at first, I have people who work against me and I feel like they would rather have me fired yesterday than today. But I have a deal, it's also my contract, but I have a deal with myself: if it doesn't work by the end of the season, I will quit and just... I don't know, go away from F1."

Alma nodded once again. "Why do you want to do this? Why don't quit today?" she scanned Matilde's face. "I don't want you to quit, but what if you have the option to quit today without any problem. Why don't you quit?"

"Because I want to win."

"You can also win at your previous job you loved. Or you can win life by doing something you love to do. So why Ferrari?"

"I want to make them win, because I thought I could take the challenge. I've seen three people fail, if I can call it like that, and I was convinced I could do it," Matilde said. She snorted and shook her head. "I am such a clown for even trying to think about it."

"Let's start on the clown part, Matilde. You are not a clown for trying; you're courageous for pursuing your passion to a further level. But there is a part of you that wants it and knows that you can do it. Why do you think that? Why do you want to do this?"

Matilde took a deep, shuddering breath, her emotions still raw and exposed. The tears in her eyes kept flowing over her cheeks, she couldn't help it. "To show everyone that I can do it."

"Do what?"

Matilde looked down and the tears rolled over her cheeks. "This." She paused, her voice trembling with the weight of those expectations. "Leading a team, make it a winning team."

"Why?"

"Because I was told I wouldn't make it in life when I was younger." She blinked, making her vision clear.

"Like?"

"I wasn't smart, but I also wasn't dumb," she mumbled. "I didn't fit anywhere. And when I found something I liked, teacher's advised me to not even start with it." She wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "And when I finally did something I liked, something I found my passion in, I was told that I could not find or get a job in motorsport. And when I got a job in motorsport, I was told that I wouldn't succeed and that I wouldn't last longer than a year. And when I got this job, I was told that I would fail. A woman wasn't supposed to lead a Formula 1 team, especially a top team like Ferrari. I want to show everyone that I can lead Ferrari to a victory, to winning a world championship, that I can succeed in a world that has been dominated by men for so long. I believe in this team, I believe in Charles and Carlos-"

The door of the meeting room flew open. Charles stepped into the room, not expecting anyone. A light shock went through his body when he noticed someone sitting at the head of the table; his team principal was still sitting at the same spot as an hour ago. His face fell when he saw Matilde crying, quickly wiping away the tears and clearing her throat. "Oh, eh, sorry," he mumbled. His eyes scanned the table, where he found his pass. "I didn't know you were here. I forgot my pass," he said and pointed at his pass.

"You can grab it," Matilde neutrally said.

Charles hesitated momentarily, seemingly unsure whether he should get it or leave and pick it up later, since she was upset and he interrupted her. The atmosphere in the room felt tense and awkward. After a brief internal struggle, he decided to get his pass. He heard Matilde say something in an unfamiliar language to her laptop, Charles didn't recognise the language, but it had to be Danish. Someone talked back to her, she was in an online meeting or something. "Thanks," he mumbled, grabbing the pass from the table and making a swift exit from the room. The door closed behind him, and he walked back to the engineer's area.

"Found it?" Xavi asked, grabbing his stuff.

Charles nodded and showed his pass. "Ready to go."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Austria 2019

-The Styrian hills are so pretty!!

-Charles and Max front row!!

-“Sebastian Vettel couldn’t run because of a mechanical problem in Q3”

He had a mechanical issue in qualifying for Germany too I think. What is with his Ferrari??

-Why are we calling the Force India, Racing Points now??

-“Feels like the hottest race I’ve ever taken part it” damn, should I predict tire problems?

-“Lando Norris was what- one year old when Kimi Raikkonen made his debut here? They start alongside each other today” That’s so cool

-“Verstappen gets an awful start” Ohmygod he got passed by like three cars. That was horrifying

-Charles flew off though

-Not three cars, he got passed by more than three cars. How did this happen??

-Charles just put such a big gap between him and the second car now

-“Started second, now seventh” I will cry. What the hell is an anti-stall?

-Charles setting a fastest lap. The contrast between these two right now

-“Norris didn’t look at all phased wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. That bodes well for him into the future” yes it does

-Also I forgot where Carlos started but seeing him in p15 is unsettling

-“Max Verstappen has lost more positions in the first lap today, than the previous 14 races combined” oh

-Ohmygod Lando almost got pushed off the track by Sebastian Vettel

-Aah they’re going wheel to wheel. He almost got back that position too

-The orange crowd in the grandstands look like minions

-“The iceman gave Verstappen the whole freezer to himself there” I-

-Magnussen getting a drive through penalty :/

-“Tell me when to start pushing” Charles…are you not, already pushing?

-Lap 23, drivers coming in to box now

-Bad stop for Sebastian :( (He’s down to p7 now)

-“Tires are good. Tires are still good” Lewis is having a good race then

-Aah why did Kimi pit now, he’s p15

-“decent pit stop for him” I forgot he’s not in a top team anymore 😭

-I’m surprised Red Bull hasn’t pitted yet

-Oh Lewis trying to overcut Valterri

-Lando and Pierre stopping now

-Okay why do all of these look like very bad stops

-Going to enjoy both Daniel and Nico being in the points for the next few laps before they inevitably lose that

-I kind of like this light blue livery on the Mercedes

-I don’t know how but Lewis has a damaged front wing. That’s definitely going to hinder his pit stop time

-“The chase is on now for Hamilton against Vettel” Or it would have been but Max just came out between them

-Charles back to leading the race

-Carlos and Daniel have been on the same tires for 35 laps now

-“Lick the envelope and send it down the inside”Daniel! It’s so cool how he’s able to fend off Lando with those old tires

-Carlos finally pitting, going back to p14

-How is Daniel still out?

-“Lando if you can, just hold Ricciardo in your DRS. Hold him to allow him to have DRS, as long as he can’t pass” “What like, forever?” Hahaha

-Unfortunately that play by McLaren didn’t work out, Pierre has gotten past Daniel now

-Daniel really needs to pit soon

-“Come on mate, let’s get it done. Let’s get it” Watching young Max go up against experienced drivers is always such a treat. You just have to hold your breath the whole time

-“Get it boy.” “Yes boy come on” Haha, that was really good

-Sebastian pitting?? Now it’s him chasing Lewis

-✨Carlos back in points✨

-“Oh I’m losing power. Guys?!” Aaaaah no!!

-Getting directions to push buttons with different numbers while driving at intense speeds would throw me off the edge

-Ah yes Max!! Let’s go!! Back to p2!!

-“Verstappen! There’s no stopping him today”

-“Haha yes” “Alright this is game on”

-This is the most radio I’ve heard between Max and GP in a while

-“They’ve got history of course, back in the karting days. Only 16 days apart” My favorite emotional support rivals

-“I’m sure they will absolutely relish a battle like that, if it comes to fruition at the end of this race” Inchident pt2?!

-Ohmygod is this _the_ race? The race after which they unfollowed each other???

-“But I am expecting three happy drivers on the podium for once” I’m so sorry Martin

-“Here’s the glimpse of the future of f1. The youngest ever front row”

-“Verstappen’s now caught sight of him” Let’s go let’s go let’s go

-“Blistering pace Max, keep it up mate” GP has been the man this whole race. So many encouragements

-“Can Charles Leclerc win his first Grand Prix, or will Max Verstappen deny him that?”

-“He’s right behind him, the last man to beat Mercedes in a Grand Prix, the old dominating Mercedes-Benz in 2018” ”And if Leclerc’s going to do this, he’s going to fend off a mighty adversary”

-“Verstappen behind 1s” “Leave me alone” Valid

-“Bravo Charles Leclerc, that was brilliant defending” Honestly there’s no one like Charles when he’s defending from Max

-Aaaah Max!!!! “Max Verstappen has just sent Holland into ruptures!”

-The way everyone talks about this incident- it was less dramatic than they make it sound. I thought he ran into him on purpose or something

-“It’s one, two, three, four, five…six! victories in formula 1 for Max Verstappen!”

-“Max you drove a might race. You are the man. I mean, what a race, we are so proud of you”

-“You and Charles certainly did him [Niki Lauda] proud”

-“It’s hard racing otherwise you have to stay home” He has never changed

-It’s hilarious that Valterri is the one sharing this podium

-Max pointing at the Honda logo in the end was so cute

-Going to go watch Charles win his first race now. I’m expecting karma to come for Max there cause that’s how the lore between these two seems to work

[somethingsomethingwords]

Hello dear readers. It's really been a while. I'm here again because I want to get back into writing, and what day is better than this page's first anniversary??? Thanks to every single one of you, and let's hope in another year full of words.

As always thanks for reading. Enjoy💜

It had been one hell of a weekend. All fp sessions had ended because of a red flag, quali was postponed because it kept raining and raining, and when they finally started doing their outlaps, the track was still wet.

Both Aston Martins made it to Q3, with Fernando in p4 and Lance in p6, and both drivers wanted to get a podium.

The actual race was just as chaotic as the previous days: crashes and DNFs all around, with at least 3 safety cars issued.

It was a miracle no one got seriously injured.

Fernando couldn't complain: he barely missed the podium and defended well.

Despite the slight disappointment of missing the 15 points, he couldn't stop smiling, because Lance had gotten the podium.

With a masterclass of well timed pit-stops and overtaking, he managed to get to P3.

They were out celebrating in a club, when he was tapped on the shoulder.

"Ehi, podium boy"

It made the Canadian giggle, which in return made Nando smile even wider.

"Hi Nando. How's it going?"

"Can't complain now you're here. You? Enjoying your night?"

"Yeah, it's been intense" he said, eyes shining.

"Everything ok?" Fernando couldn't stop asking. He could see the boy was happy, but also something else was starting to show in the tense slope of his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah, just tired of the weekend"

"Want to go back to the hotel?" He could already see the objection on the other's tongue, and was quicker. "It's no problem, am tired myself and just want to sleep"

"Thanks, I think I lost my ride back when Este "disappeared" outside with Pierre and Charles. You know how it is"

"Of course. Come, let's go" he instinctively held out his hand for the younger one. Lance took it and intertwined their fingers.

"Lead the way" he simply said, smiling softly.

When they got to Fernando's car, the older man opened its door for his boy.

"Nando.." chuckled Lance when he did a formal bow, still holding the door.

"You deserve to be pampered tonight, and want to do it. Get in the car, mi vida" he said, loving the deep crimson shade spreading on Lance's cheeks.

With a small thank you, Lance sat in the car and made himself comfortable on the leather seat.

When Fernando got behind the wheel, he noticed how at peace the other man looked, with his head resting against the headrest, and his eyes closed.

The drive back at the hotel was quiet, no music breaking the light atmosphere.

When they arrived, Fernando left his car in the underground garage and once again opened the door for the other, and got a sweet kiss on his cheek for his trouble.

He would never admit that every gentle gesture still made his skin tingle and his heart stumble, but that was the truth.

When they started dating, he was so scared of involuntarily hurting the younger man, because he had had bad past experiences. No one could have prepared him for the tenderness Lance showed him and how he was always deeply touched by it. They had learned together how to be together, through thick and thin.

Now, after almost three years of dating, Fernando couldn't imagine his life without the other, and he didn't want to.

He was rudely awakened from his daydream by a light pat on his shoulder and a light chuckle.

"Already sleeping old man? Come on, let's get you to bed" Lance said, smile never leaving his face and slowly backing towards the elevators, still looking back at Fernando.

"¿Ay cariño, que voy a hacer contigo?" he said, an adoring smile on his face, starting to move.

When they got to their room (nobody even pretended to book two rooms anymore), Lance opened the door and, barely leaving his shoes at the entrance, he started undressing. In the middle of the room. The boy was soon going to give him an aneurysm, but Fernando couldn't complain. He also couldn't help himself from asking.

"Want some company there, handsome?" badly winking because he knew it always made Lance laugh.

Lance did laugh, and in only his boxer, got closer and closer to his partner.

"Mon cœr, I love you so much. But I'm so tired, and I know what sharing a shower would mean. So, regrettably, I have to decline. Pass and double it for tomorrow" he said, then kissed the already forming pout on Fernando's lips and quickly escaped to the bathroom.

"Ah, the things I put up with for you mi amor" he sighed, thinking about the contract of a bigger house already signed and paid, and a small box hidden in his luggage, waiting for the right moment to be shown.

Soon, he will find the right moment, romantic and intimate and perfect, he will kneel (hoping no too loud crack would escape his not so young anymore knees) and ask Lance to be his husband.

Soon, but not right now, when they are both tired and sleepy and ready to gain energy for a sex marathon waiting for them come the morning.

So he patiently waited for his turn, knowing Lance was far too tired for one of his hours long showers, but not tired enough to be sensible about the water temperature: when he opened the door, the stream erupted as if it was smoke from a dragon's mouth.

After appreciating his boyfriend, basically naked if not for the white towel wrapped around his hips, and a quick kiss to Lance's still wet shoulder, he entered the bathroom for a quick shower.

Nothing could have prepared him for what awaited on the other side.

When he reentered the bedroom, he found Lance sat on the bed, black pajama pants and pink shirt, back against the headboard with his eyes closed and a colorful plastic bag on his lap.

Perceiving his presence, Lance opened his eyes, and smiled at him like he was seeing the sun for the first time in his life. It made him feel powerful and precious and bigger than life itself, warmth spreading everywhere.

Lance patted the space in front of him on the bed and patiently waited for him to put some boxer briefs and one of his own t-shirts, so big it almost reached his knees.

When he sat, Lance handed him the bag.

"What's this for, mi sol? Is not my birthday, nor our anniversary" he said, a bit confused.

They weren't big on gifts, and even when they exchanged them it was always for a special occasion.

"Just open it" he rolled his eyes, impatient but excited.

Nando chuckled, and opened the bag to find some sort of peluche. It was a brown cat, with big brown eyes and a small smile. It instantly made Fernando smile. Cute.

"It's lovely, gatito. Just like you" he said raising his eyes and looking Lance in the face. He looked happy and satisfied, and kind of nervous.

Fernando looked back at the cat, studying its tail and its ears.

It was only when he heard Lance move again that he lifted his eyes up, only to see an open box, and a ring inside.

"Fernando, I could tell you about how much I respect you as a driver, as a colleague, as a person, but that's not even a quarter of what you mean to me. I could tell you I love you, but there will never be enough time to explain how much. I could tell you a million and one thing now, but I'd rather tell them for the rest of our lives. So, Fernando Alonso Díaz, will you marry me?"

"No" Fernando answered breathlessly.

"Mh, I kinda didn't think this would happen" he said, shifting awkwardly, hoping he didn't ruin their relationship, confused about what he did wrong.

"No, idiota, that's not what I meant. ¿Espera un segundo, vale?"

"Sure dude" Lance was starting to feel self conscious at the moment, and Fernando couldn't have it. So he rose and kissed him, leaving him dazed and breathless.

When he came back, Lance was still exactly where he left him, red cheeks and looking at the air. So Fernando kneeled again on the bed and presented the love of his life with his own ring, putting down a stack of papers.

"Lance, you beat me once again today. You arrived in front of me on the grid, and you proposed first. I want you in my life from here to the end. For the last few years, racing was feeling like running away from something. Now I think I was running towards you. Lance Strulovitch, be mine forever" he just said, no question nor doubt in his mind.

Lance stared at the ring, and then at Fernando. His eyes were misty, but his big smile revealed his true feelings.

Without wasting any more time, he grabbed Nando by his own t-shirt and pulled him in a deep and passionate kiss.

They went on for what felt like hours, and then they separated, leaning against each other.

"Yes, today and tomorrow and for the rest of my days. Now put it on my finger" Lance said, putting out his left ring finger. The golden band fitted perfectly, as did the tungsten black one he put on Fernando's.

After long minutes spent staring at their left hands intertwined, and at how the light shone against the rings, Lance realized there was another thing that Fernando brought to the bed.

"What are those? Already ready with the divorce papers?" he asked, nodding towards the small pile of paper, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah, very funny. Those are... no easy way to say that, so I'll just say... I bought us a house" he said quickly, waiting for Lance's response.

Lance's eyes widened, grin slipping off his face, mouth open because of the surprise.

"You bought a house for us?" he asked, incredulous and on the verge of tears.

"I didn't want to be rash, but I want a place that's only ours, where we can start the rest of our lives together, maybe a kid or two, no?" he simply said, keeping looking at Lance.

"You want to have kids with me?" he was now seriously crying, eyes red and snot coming out of his noise.

"I want everything with you" he answered, caressing his betrothed's cheeks and cleaning up the tears.

"I love you so much, mon ange" he said, gently kissing his lips.

"Forever"

"For always"

[ladycaramelli]

Loss

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x Bestie!George Russell

summary: in which y/n Verstappen finds out her boyfriend made out with another girl at an Party, she told him not to go to but it’s not the only thing she found out

TW: child loss!

a/n: englisch is my second language so pls be nice :)

„Charles, I told you and you went anyway!“, y/n told him, she was angry and sad, „I knew what would happen and I still trusted you!“, a single tear escaped your eye.

„It was not my fault you didn’t want to come!“, he searched for an excuse. „Are you kidding me?!“, y/n voice got louder, „Now it is my fault you went against me? To be exact Cheated on me?!“, y/n felt betrayed. „No that’s not what I‘m saying!“; he scratched his neck looking like a little boy who got in trouble infront of his mom, but he wasn‘t, it was his girlfriend.

„You know, I don‘t care what you are trying to say, just tell me what have I done to you?“, tears were streaming silently down her cheeks, „I thought everything was fine, going the right way…“. y/n couldn‘t look at him not right now, not anytime soon, she turned away facing the big window looking over Monaco.

She heard a sight behind her and the shuffling of his feet made her turn back towards him. Defeated, he let him down onto the couch. “I just found it out..”, she whispered covering in shock, “I know and I am sorry, I should’ve told you right away!”, Charles got frustrated going through his hair with his hand.

He got up and went over to her, trying to embrace her but she stopped him, laying a hand on his chest, that once felt so familiar now cold and strange. “No..”, she whispered so low he almost missed it.

“You know..” he let out a deep breath, “..may it be better if we would go separate ways…” Charles didn’t dare to look into her beautiful eyes, fearing he would regret his choice right away. The tears stopped when y/n looked at Charles after a long moment of silence, “Okay..” there was nothing she could say that would make his choice reverse. Without another word she packed her most needed things before leaving the apartment, going to her car and calling the only person she could go to know.

“Hey love, how can I help you so late?”, he asked. “Can I come over?”, y/n answered quietly. “Sure, you need something?”, “No, Thank you, George!”

*a couple weeks later*

It was cleared up with her doctor that it would be safe to race for her, since it would only be three more races of the season and quite some time between them. George the only one who knew, the only one that went through it along with her.

Seeing him, seeing Charles, two days in a row, wasn’t easy. They haven’t really talked since she packed a few bags and moved into George’s guestroom. And seeing him did in fact hurt as much as not answering his text or phone calls, even more than finding out what had happened that night.

The days were exhausting, it was hot, the car wasn’t at its best and so was y/n.

Qualifying was okay she made it into Q3, but then it happened the breaks weren’t working like they should and she drifted into the wall, it wasn’t bad the car was not too damaged.

But the impact did something to her, a sharp pain in her abdomen, like someone pressed onto it for a second then it was gone.

Qualify ended and she met with the others, George coming directly to her, embracing her in his large figure, “Hey, are you okay? You know!?”, while asking he looked down her body, she nodded, “I think so, there is a slight cramp, but I can mean nothing..”, y/n shrugged slightly before her brother reached her laughing, “Damn, even when you crash you will start third row!” Hugging her from the side, Charles came toward the group. “Good job guys! Can’t wait for tomorrow's race!”, he laid one hand onto max shoulder.

It was so close to her, too close. She felt the heat radiating from him, his racing suit bind around his hips, the fireproofs the right amount too tight.

Y/n felt like she could throw up, especially when his gaze shifted and he looked her right in the eyes. “Hope you good?!”, Charles casually said, it took y/n a second to get it was about her crash, “As always..” she just answered, looking anywhere but him. It was an awkward silence before George took her arm and dragged her alongside him, “See you tomorrow”, he waved the group goodbye.

“What was that!?”, “I don’t know, Georgie… It’s exhausting, like everything, him acting like we’re old friends as if he’s not hurting, not having texted me like a hundred thousand times or called…”, she let out a breath, they were on their way to the hotel. She hissed, out of nowhere the cramp got heavier, “Y/n, what is it? Do you need a doctor?”, “No, I don’t think so, it’s weird it came out of nowhere and now it’s almost gone. I read it can happen..”, she tried to calm George, he was so good to her the last few weeks and she was so grateful for it!

When she woke up there were these cramps again but she needed to race, for her and her team, and to prove it to Charles. Before the race she checked in with her Doctor via call, he told her it could happen due to her body changing, it could be something but on a low percentage.

She race went great, she ignored the cramps adrenaline rushing through her vein washing them away.

The podium was so close…. In the last few meters she got third place, overtaking Charles at the last chance.

Heavy breaths coming through the radio, “Y/n, congratulations! Are you okay? Copy!”, her team said, “thanks guys, I um..I feel a little lightheaded.., maybe the heat!” She said the truth.

George had to retire his car but waited for her at the barricade for her to celebrate with her team. When she got to him she smiled but he could see the pain in her eyes, Y/n' knees buckled when she was in his arms but he kept her steady no one would notice. “Something’s wrong, George..” she cried to him, but before he could say anything she was already on her way to her brother celebrating his P1.

In the cooldown room y/n took deep breaths to keep the cramps away, “Y/n, hey!”, Max shook her arm, she didn’t notice he had talked to her, “are you alright?”, she just nodded and held a cool water bottle against her head. She thought about the look Charles had given her, he had started from P2 and finished P4, overtaken by his ex. He was straddled to say the least.

Everyone had their trophies and sprayed champagne, when it hit her, fighting the dark edges around her vision she more or less stumbled towards Max, grabbing him, wide panicking eyes, “Something’s wrong..” then she fell unconscious, slumping into his arms. Max panicked, not knowing what was going on, calling for help, people rushing towards her, Lando who stood in front of the pair, shielding them from everyone.

And he stood there surrounded by people trying to give an interview, watching on a screen what happened, Charles' heart sank and he couldn’t deny it. They carried her towards an ambulance, George on one side trying to explain, Max on the other. And Charles watched from afar everything in slow motion, “I’m sorry..” he left the interviews.

“What do you mean, there is something she didn’t tell me, George?”, Max held the named one at his shoulder, “Max, trust me if we don’t get her in the Hospital NOW, there is no point in me telling you!”George said, erraging. Max looked defeated and they both got into the ambulance with her.

*in the hospital*

Tears streamed down her cheeks, when she woke up they didn’t have to tell her, she felt it, she knew it, she knew she had lost her baby…

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, Max asked carefully, caressing her head, while he leaned against him. “I don’t know…I thought you might be mad at me or him…”, y/n sniffled. Oh and he was mad at him!

It was better he did not know that Charles was sitting outside her room waiting for an answer. But Max just saw his little sister hurt and he needed to be there for her. The doctors came to check on her ignoring the man outside the door.

Her cries could be heard when the door opened and George came out. “Just so you know, you fucked up man! And be careful Max is not amused..and I am neither”, George had a not happy tight smile on his face, “I don’t even know what happened!?”, Charles was frustrated, his feelings were upside down and no one told him what the hell is going on.

“She lost it…Y/n, just lost your child, man..”, a tiny tear formed in George’s eyes, he was angry, he had wished y/n could be happy for once. “What!?”, Charles was confused, a baby?His child? But he didn’t get an answer from George he just walked down the hallway.

There was a light knock on the door before Charles entered the room, y/n wiped her tears away when she saw him. Max was basically fuming but she grabbed his arm, “Please let us alone..”. When the door clicked close there was a moment of silence when they were inspecting each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he stood at the end of the bed, still in his racing suit, hands on the bedframe. “George told you, hm?”, y/n said instead of an proper answer, “He did, but I wish it was you who told me..”, “I did..I wanted to!”, she sniffed, “But you didn’t let me keep talking…when I said I just found out…I didn’t…I didn’t mean..”,stears rolled down her face. “you meant the baby..” Charles finished her sentence realizing, she nodded defeated. A moment of silence embraced them, “May I?”, he pointed at the chair Max sat at a few moments ago and y/n nodded, suddenly wanting him close.

“Tell me more…” he pleaded, placing his hands on their sheets. “I was at four weeks when I found out and it would have been seven weeks, eight tomorrow actually…”, y/n couldn’t stop crying but she kind of felt a relief, “The doctors told me it would be okay to race due to my body condition, but those early weeks are always critical…”, she looked at him, head in one hand the other on the sheets, he looked sad, it was his child too, she told herself and took his hand in hers. Carefully as if it could break, “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t, how could I, you had hurt me so much…and then seeing you again, the crash yesterday, it was all too much..”.

Charles looked up at her, his eyes gleaming, a tear rolled down his cheek, “I am so sorry, I am the biggest asshole on this earth! I fucked up so hard…those weeks without you were the worst! I didn’t know anything, you never answered and I couldn’t sleep or eat or anything…I regret everything so fucking much!”, he cried, y/n had seen him cry before but not like this, not this deep hurting cries. „Mi manchi amore! E mi sarebbe piaciuto tanto avere un bambino con te!“, he held her hand to his lips, tears rolling down his cheek.

„I miss you too! But it will take time for me to heal and trust again!“, that was everything Charles needed to hear, he held her in his arms, never wanting to let her go again, „I don’t care! I will wait an eternity for you to be ready, ma per favore sii di nuovo mio!“, he whispered into her ear and when he felt her arms tightening and her head nodding, Charles could’ve cried even more but knew she needed him now to recover.

[kbagraces]

Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(Third person perspective)

!!explicit content warning: 18+!!

PART 5 -

CONVINCED ME

“You convinced me that I can't know if I never try. Love me like you do, you make me feel so new.”

Lando knew she wasn't for him. He was sick of being alone, almost the entire paddock had girlfriends, people who didn't doubt their relationship, someone who'd fight for him like he would do for her.

Lacy was passing time and that time had passed. After the call with Pippa he was inconsolable, no tears left his eyes, that wasn't how he dealt with things. But he was almost mute, only answering yes or no to any questions asked. He left Saskia in his bed no goodbye or anything and got on his flight to Singapore. Arguably the hardest race of the season, the weather was draining when you were out of the car, the sickness he felt within the car was unmatched. Until now. This loneliness looming over him couldn't be topped he felt.

Press day looming, he wasn't in any state to speak to anyone, act with his teammate or interact with fans. He wanted none of it. He wanted to do the race. Then fly to y/n. His flight was booked, no one knew he couldn't risk them telling her and her running away or attempting to convince her otherwise. He needed her in anyway, he just needed her.

She was aware of how he was feeling, she over heard max and him on the phone when she was visiting P. She couldn't pull herself away from the conversation. She ruined her chance with him and now she's destroyed his relationship with Lacy. She felt awful.

She planned before the album dropped to have a break from social appearances and interviews as once November 4th hit they'd be non stop. But her time was consumed with worry, about her future, about his, about everything. Her needed rest was anything but that.

She kept updated with Lando at the Singapore Grand Prix with his performance last year ending up second, all eyes were on McLaren.

Qualifying was here, Lando was in the zone flying in Q1 and Q2. She hoped he was channeling everything to keep him going. Q3 wasn't awful ending up 6th place, not the best place to start on the street circuit but similarly not the worst.

One thing she loved about Lando was his ability to let go as soon as his helmet was on, she's glad that was a trait he could still channel following the recent turmoil she'd caused for him.

She believed she'd blown all chance. Contact was less the minimum, his name didn't even grace her instagram likes anymore. Total radio silence. And she was struggling, the girls would take her out, introduce her to their friends. But the same rule applied, they weren't him. And although she couldn't have him, she certainly didn't want anyone else.

P2! Again Lando finished P2 in the race of his life it looked like. She cheered, reaching for her phone, only to put it down right away. It's not your place anymore she told herself.

Lando was ecstatic, the first positive emotion he'd felt in weeks. Although he wanted to celebrate with the team, he wanted to get to her more. Rushing out of the paddock jumping in his car, not before throwing his hat to a group of young boys waiting for him, watching them fight over it in his rear view as he drove away.

He rested for a few hours once he got to London, hoping no pictures of him had reached her timeline. A few hours of sleep he caught up on, before heading to her. He prayed she was in, it'd be just his luck if she wasn't.

It was 8pm, she's ready for an early night. Make up removed, hair falling slightly messily over her shoulders and matching pyjamas set covering her figure.

Making a cup of tea before bed, she pottered in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boiled when a knock made her jump out of her skin as it echoed through her apartment.

The face appearing before her was the last person on earth she expected.

"Lando? What? Um, hi. What?" So startled sentence ran through her head but failed to reach her lips. She stepped aside for him to come in not saying anything else.

He looked tired but gorgeous as always, he too didn't say a word he just looked at her. She couldn't read his expression, maybe due to it being so long since she's seen him or because he wasn't sure what he was feeling himself.

!!!

He finally spoke, "don't say a word." He demanded, grabbing both sides of her face and pushing his body against hers so her back hit the door behind her. He kissed her softly but only for a second before it intensified. She was lost in the moment, her hands lifting up to get lost in his curls, pulling on them as he leaves her lips abandoned before he continues kissing and biting down her neck to her collarbones.

Her mind catches up with her, her voice small and out of breath from the kiss, "Lando. Lando! Wait." He stopped immediately, worried he'd taken it too far.

"Are you sure you want this? Are you just going to leave me tomorrow? You have every right to be angry but I don't want either if us to regret this." She's right, it'll be their first time sleeping together, hell that was their first time kissing each other more than just a peck.

He knew he wouldn't regret it, he was still upset. But he wouldn't regret it, he's wanted this for the last 2 years, he's needed this for the past 6 months.

"Y/n/n, it feels right doesnt it? Don't worry about tomorrow, do you want this now?" God she does her legs are already weak from the kiss, doing there best to relive some tension rubbing together.

No words necessary she attached her lips back to his all the confirmation he needed.

His hands slipped below her bare legs hoisting her up, she instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, moaning softly into his mouth as she feels him, hard, rubbing against her. He wanders straight into her bedroom, she praises herself for doing some decluttering earlier that day.

He rests her down on the bed, taking her in hair splayed out, "candles, huh? Were you expecting me?" He jokes. Humour right now is not appreciated by her as she leans up grabbing his hoodie pulling him on top of her.

He rest between her legs once more, arms beside her holding his weight above her. He pulls back from her kisses once more to which she groans in frustration.

"I don't think you're in the position to be demanding anything from me baby."

Baby

She's desperate for him and he's taking his sweet time. "Lando please." She whimpers trying to pull him down again, missing his lips against hers.

"Fuck say it again baby. Beg for me. Show me that you deserve it."

"Please. Please. I'll be good. Touch me, kiss me anything. Please"

He dives back down lips attacking her neck straight away, kissing, biting, marks being made down to her collarbones.

"Can I take this off?" He slides the strap off of her shoulder signalling he wants her naked infront of him.

She nods staring at him almost bewildered, she can't believe this is happening. She's hidden her feeling for so long and here he is undressing her after she believed she wouldn't see him again.

He pulls off her top shorts leaving her completely vulnerable in front of him.  Her nipples hard point at him, he's staring think, God she's beautiful. Not a single imperfection in his eyes. Her skin smooth to the touch, freckles delicately scattered over her body, her lips puffy, cheek flushed and marks from him littering her neck.

She notices him analysing her and instinctively goes to attempting to cover her bare body before him. Her arms wrap themselves around her chest, wondering if he likes what he sees or if he's changed his mind.

He grabs her wrists, holding them about her head with one of his large hands. "Don't." He says.

"Please don't hide yourself from me. You're perfect. You're mine and you're perfect." He kisses her once more wrists still pinned, she tries to fight it desperately wanting to touch him, get him out of his clothes and inside her. The more she resists the more he tightens.

"Lando. Do something please I'm begging you." She's throbbing at this point begging for his touch, desperate for it.

"Whatever you want, baby."

He removes his hoodie, she gapes at his body one she'd seen hundreds of times before but never it hovering over her, fuck.

He kisses from her neck down her chest, flicking her nipples with his tongue earning another moan from her. Taking them in her mouth biting and sucking gently as his hand travels down her stomach and between her legs. He'd never felt someone this desperate for him before. His slender fingers toy with her clit as her back arches from the contact, he inserts one finger, followed by another, his thumb now concentrating on her clit. She's moaning and writing at his touch.

He shuffles down her bed lips now attaching her clit, tongue swirling in circles whilst his fingers dance inside her.

"Lando. I'm so- don't- don't stop." Her body quivering beneath him his unoccupied arm laying across or stomach now to try and limit some movement.

Her body shakes as she reaches her highs, chanting his name louder and louder.

"Fuck." She exclaims.

"We're not done yet baby. You going to let me take care of you again?" His fingers finding the drawstring of his joggers pulling them off completely.

"Let me do something for you Lan, please" she looks at him through hooded eyes, looking exhausted already.

"No baby it's all about you right now." He removes the cloth of his boxers, setting her knees up beside him as she lays on her back.

"You ready baby? Can you take it?"

"I need it. Please I need to feel you." She cries out, he taps his tip on her now extremely sensitive clit before allowing himself to sink into her.

"Fuck" he whispers, she's gripped around him in a perfect fit. She was perfect for him.

Thrusting deeper and deeper, as she chants his name gripping onto any part she can. His arms are tattooed with the marks of her nails raking down them as she reaches her second high of the night, it hitting her hard.

Lando slows the rhythm as she begs him to be gentle clearing becoming overwhelmed and overstimulated. "You going to let me cum inside you baby? Can I fill you up?"

"Daddy please. Please"

Daddy. That finished it for him, hoping he could go a bit longer but once that word left her lips he was done for. He swears that's the most intense it's felt.

He gently removes himself from her, entering her en suite, grabbing the first towel he sees. Re entering her room she's propped herself up on her elbows, looking for him as if he's disappeared, slightly delirious. He wipes off what's leaked from her. Urging her to move up under the covers.

"Thank you for coming Lan." She sighs, wrapped in his arms, she's deeply missed being his little spoon. "I don't know what changed your mind. But thank you for being here."

"I'm glad I'm here but I don't want to talk about that right now. Just want to enjoy you and that great sex we had." He smirks into her shoulder, avoiding the dressing topic they'd both have to face at some point.

"Hmm I'd give it a 3/10." She mocks, knowing that's a complete lie.

"That's why you were screaming daddy at me right, baby? Where did that come from?" His smile getting wider and cockier at the minute.

"Please don't. It's your fault anyway.”

If that's his fault, he'd love to be to blame all day everyday. She's finally back in his arms and for now he's enjoying this ignorant bliss.

Masterlist

[jamminvroomvroom]

on the weekends.

gr x fem!reader

finally done with the george win smut! sorry it took ages but we made it lol - mentally i am still in brazil. lemme know what you think ily ily ily!!

btw this is not linked to the george fic, this is a standalone! dedicating this one to @wetforwolff and @lovely-leclerc - you asked, you shall receive <3

warnings: 18+!! it’s smut!! bit of fluff, bit of angst, language, alcohol

3.5k words

you’d anticipated this day for as long as you’d known george. he looked like a winner, walked like a winner, talked like a winner. he fucked you like one, too.

back when you were just getting toto his coffee and george was making powerpoints, you knew this day would come. when you were taking on a bigger role and he was dragging the williams into q3, you knew this day would come. when you were finally at the top of the job ladder, draped in merc team kit in the garage every weekend and he was pulling a top five out of the bag every single time he got in the car, you knew this day would come.

you’d been stood in the back of the garage biting your nails, trying not to draw attention to yourself and your nerves. the humidity drove you insane, but not as much as he did. no one needed to know just how close you and george could get after a long weekend, and now wasn’t the time to publicise it. toto was back at the factory, leaving you exposed; usually you’d hide behind him when things heated up on track. you weren’t supposed to care which merc brought it home p1. a win was a win, a one-two was a one-two, and lewis was on the hunt. fair game. you knew you were fucked when you prayed that car number sixty three would come out on top. you knew it was foolish and selfish but a celebratory night in the sheets boded better than a consolation fuck.

a mercedes one-two and a meltdown at redbull rounded off your weekend perfectly. george had done it, just like you knew he would. lewis had pulled off the recovery drive that added more flavour to his greatness. a perfect day in the office, realised by three trophies to tell the tale.

toto was blowing up your phone. you answered, trying to wade through the masses in parc ferme. you lingered by the scales, pressing the big green button on your phone, toto’s face filling the screen, aged by a lacklustre season, masked by the elation of triumph. you beamed as you rambled about data and upgrades and and told him that you’d try and find george. you didn’t need to look much further.

a large hand ghosted over your waist, a shiver running up your spine and back down again. you turned, breath hitching in your throat. he was breathtaking; sweating, blue eyes clouded red, veins prominent in his trembling hands. his hair was a mess, body shaking from the adrenaline and his smile was so wide, so emotional that you almost doubled over. you couldn’t help but stare at him, at the blood, sweat and tears that had made him great. beautiful bastard.

you very rarely felt small in the presence of a man. you refused to, taking up space was the key to survival in your line of work. but for once, you allowed yourself to shrink, to succumb to it, the size of george. the size of success. he looked different, powerful. your thighs clenched.

all he did was stare back at you, a telepathic communication pinging backwards and forwards.

he was going to ruin you, and you were going to let him.

“are you there? hello?” toto grumbled, too excited to be mad at your ignorance towards him.

“oh- um,” you fumbled, thrusting the phone towards george. “it’s for you.” you smiled. his fingers brushed yours in the midst of the transaction and you shivered again. “someone’s very proud of you.” you murmured, eyes never leaving his.

you let your tongue swipe your bottom lip, hoping he knew that amongst all the chaos, you weren’t just talking about toto. it was dangerous to be so obvious in public, you could do that later, on your knees. with toto harping away in the background, george’s eyes darkened; it was too much, the adrenaline and your double meanings. dark blue eyes mentally undressed you, glancing hungrily over your body, and you felt naked in parc ferme. maybe one day you’d let him fuck you in the garage, you thought. perhaps if he won a title.

“i’ll bet.” he mirrored your action and licked his lips, the quickest wink being thrown at you, the most carefree you allowed him to be in public, and he turned his attention to your boss, who was bellowing away like the world’s proudest dad.

tonight was the night. brazil never disappointed.

-

hours passed, the muggy afternoon blurring into the hazy night. the champagne flowed, as did a few tears, the man of the moment being carried around on anyones shoulders and hosed down with alcohol. the team had craved this, worked for it, earned it. it was a bit like your relationship with george, really.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, your entire body tingling in anticipation for later. so when it was finally time to go, you tried to slip away, get back to the hotel as quickly as you could. but of course, nothing ever got past george. he was the right amount of tipsy to grab both of your hands in his, right there at the entrance of the hospitality suite, and insist that you just share his ride back. it was stupid, utterly reckless, but you were the right amount of tipsy to accept.

hands intertwined, you stared at each other some more, until someone cleared their throat and you were being ushered out into the exposure of the paddock.

he didn’t let go and you didn’t make him.

-

he didn’t leave you any time to go back to your hotel room, coaxing you easily straight back to his. the tension between you was suffocating, it had been all afternoon, but nothing beat the journey from the track back to his hotel.

you’d gotten stuck in traffic, just as you always did in são paulo, which sent hands wandering early, carefully hidden from the driver that had the misfortune of picking you up. he trailed his fingers from your knee and up, up, up, occasionally grazing the fabric of your panties. your thighs would snap shut every time he did, your face a flaming shade of red. you looked out the window with wide eyes, trying to mask the urge to roll your hips, and all he did was stare at you, a devilish grin spread across his face.

you’d hurried out of the car, stumbling into the hotel lobby. you both did your worst at pretending that you weren’t tipsy, straight faces wavering as his hand dipped too low on the small of your back. you gave in, foolish, letting yourself lean into his side, giggling up at him with your head rested against his shoulder. your were caught up in the moment, blindsided by lovesickness, as he guided you into the elevator.

your breathing shook, fingers balled up as you tried to resist the cliche make out session in the elevator. it’s as if he could read your mind, pulling one of your hands into his and intertwining your fingers. he didn’t take it any further, not yet, knowing that no matter what the pair of you may have wanted, there was a time and a place. both were rapidly approaching as the lift reached its destination and you were let loose into the corridor. suddenly, nothing was funny anymore. urgency takes over.

down the corridor, force the key into the slot, wait for the green light. your back is against the door the second it’s been slammed shut. you’re used to this, the sudden pounce of him. your relationship survived on stolen moments and hurried touches, rapid pleasure. it was intense and the need for more fuelled you both because once could never be enough. so when he kissed you, it was quick, carrying the force and speed of a race car. you found yourself realising that for once, there wasn’t a flight to catch, or someone just waiting to interrupt, and your hands flew to his face, taking control of the pace. you deepened the kiss, slowing him down and licking your way into his mouth.

he seemed to get the hint, and you felt the slow press of his body moulding against yours as your lips moved together, nice and deep. it was different. your heart grew about ten sizes, on the verge of exploding for him. you moved across the room in some kind of trance, floating to the bed. shoes were kicked off, merc embroidered shirts discarded in a painful reminder of a pile, unidentifiable fingers working in the darkness to undo his trousers, to tug down your skirt. in nothing but your underwear, you tumbled into bed.

you were a mess of touches in the dark, clambering on top of him, his hands finding your hips. he held you tight, close, encouraging the roll of your hips and you sunk into his body. you could make out his face in the dim light, his shadowy features contorting as he lost any remaining scrap of control.

you were on your back in a blink, kisses pressed to your sternum, over the lace of your bra, peppered down your navel. your panties were peeled off, flung behind him onto the floor, instantly forgotten. he’d been waiting to get between your legs all weekend, desperate for you after the sprint, forced to wait by the reality of your jobs. he couldn’t wait any longer, wouldn’t. he slung one of your legs over his shoulder, open mouthed kisses pressed from your knee, all the way down to your inner thigh, as his arm wound its way around your other leg, spreading you open.

he was ready to dive in when you pushed yourself up on your elbows, one hand reaching down to cup his jaw, making him look at you. his eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why you’d stopped him when he could see just how bad you needed him, the way you glistened for him becoming a familiar, welcomed sight.

“george,” you breathed, “supposed to be celebrating you.” all he did was smile at you, leaning in closer to where you were aching.

“couldn’t have done it without you, sweetheart.” and with that, he escaped your hold, licking a stripe through your folds.

you fell back into the sheets, eyes glazing over and quickly squeezing shut. george was messy with it, licking into your cunt with an enthusiasm that had you arching further and further into him. his large hands gripped harder on your thighs, tightening every time you moaned louder. his tongue swirled across your folds, alternating between long laps and featherlight flicks across your clit, the differing sensations having you embarrassingly close already.

“george, stop, i’m gonna cum. want you in me. please.” you begged, warning him of just how close you were to your undoing, desperate to feel him back on top of you.

he didn’t let up for a second, barely even acknowledged you. all he did was stare up at you, amused eyes twinkling through the darkness as he doubled his efforts. all of the sudden, you were numb with pleasure, writhing against the sheets. your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping at the dirty blonde locks so hard that it must of hurt, but just like everything else you threw at him, he seemed to be enjoying it, humming into your pussy as he helped you ride out your orgasm. it all felt too much, too overwhelming; you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him even closer.

finally the pleasure began to subside, relief washing over you for barely a second before he was pushing two fingers through your folds. his tongue continued to curl against your clit as he slid his fingers inside you. you whined at the overstimulation, grinding your hips to meet his movements.

“george, i can’t-“ you started, panting, only to be cut off.

“you’re gonna keep coming for me, sweetheart. okay?” he told you bluntly, fingers working into you quickly. “do you know why? because i won.” he smirked, “i won and this is my reward.”

you could already feel your second orgasm building, his words along making you shake, his fingers hitting your spot each time with ease. you were dripping all over him, limp from the pleasure, desperate to cum just so that he’d put you out of your misery and fuck you.

“one more for me, yeah? one more, darling, and i’ll stop.” george murmured, thumb brushing over your clit, fingers beginning a deep grind into you.

“please, george.” you whined, eyes blurry with unshed tears.

he kept going, going, going, until you were shaking once more, seeing nothing but white, hips bucking wildly, uncontrollably. he had his mouth back on you, lips wrapped around your clit and his fingers buried inside of you, until he was sure that you were finished. you laid there lifeless, the aftershocks rocking your body while he licked his fingers clean. your mouth parted at the sight, eyes fluttering shut when you felt his lips working across your thigh, to the crease where your leg met your body, up, up, up, until he was hovering over you again.

your fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck, twisting in his hair to pull him close. he kissed you, ferocious, pulling your thigh over his hip to line himself up with your entrance. your mouths fell open as he slipped inside of you, broken moans tumbling from your lips and into his mouth. you could hear his breath stuttering as he sunk deeper and deeper into you, until his hips hit yours.

“how does that feel, darling? being fucked by the race winner?” george groaned lowly, lips skimming the shell of your ear as he spoke. you tightened around him inadvertently, feeling a rush of wetness at his words.

“so good, you’re so good.” you whimpered, absolutely pathetic beneath him. all you could do was give in, let him have his way with you. it’s what you both needed.

“i know, love. i know.” he muttered, his arrogance as he fucked into you making you weaker and weaker. it was obscene, the way his behaviour was such a turn on to you. if any other man dared to speak that way, so unsubtly cocky, you’d roll your eyes and find the nearest exit. but for some reason, when george did it, you were ready to fall to your knees; you got off on seeing him succeed.

“you feel like fucking heaven.” george sighed, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slammed into you, rhythm never faltering, hard and deep into your dripping cunt. “all i could think about in the car when i crossed that line was you. knew you’d be soaked for me, darling,” he whispered. “knew it as soon as i saw you after the race, had that look like you were just waiting to be fucked. i would have done it right there, you know, in the middle of parc fucking fermé.”

you cried out, body shuddering at his admission, completely boneless on the bed as he rocked into you. you knew you were close, urgently approaching your orgasm, wanting to get him there too. you could tell he was getting closer to his end, breathing getting heavier, thrusts getting slightly more frantic.

“come on george, want you to cum for me. need it.” you pleaded, nails raking over his scalp and down across his shoulder blades, digging in to leave red tracks down his back. you could feel him tensing under your touch, chest to chest, breath mingling as he pulled away from your neck to look at you. to really, properly, look at you.

something happened, then, that you couldn’t quite grasp. it happened all at once, something changing in his eyes that you knew was mirrored in your own, something that you couldn’t articulate, that you’d never let him see before. you didn’t know if he was feeling it for the first time, or if he was like you, too scared of reality to let it slip through. as quickly as it happened, you were squeezing your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him on top of you, your legs tightening around his waist, trapping him against you.

you fell apart, levitating somewhere above the clouds, seeing nothing but white. the only thing that brought you out of it, back to life again, was the feeling of his weight crashing down on top of you, not a millimetre between your slick bodies. the groan he let out was carnal, utterly delirious as he came down from his high.

when he kissed you after, making no effort to get off of you, you let yourself have hope for the first time ever.

-

afterwards, it was quiet. it usually was between you. sometimes there was only time for the quiet moments, no time for whispers across pillows or to be held in his arms. tonight there was time. you could hear his breath slowing, you own heartbeat still ringing in your ears. next, there was the crumpling of the sheets as he turned towards you.

you were laying on your side, facing away from him. you needed these moments after to compose yourself, to take it all in before it was over again, until the next time. his hand grazed your waist, down to where the duvet covered you, grabbing softly at your hip. you could feel his body heat, turning slowly to look up at him. he was resting on his forearm, fingers trailing over any bare skin he could find.

neither of you spoke yet, there was still no need. you curled into him as he laid himself back against the pillows, enveloped in his arms. your head rested on his chest, a sense of total calm settling over you. you dreaded these moments, because it always felt the same. he made you feel safe and warm and relaxed, and it was awful. it was especially awful when there was only one race left before he would disappear off on holiday, and then go back to his family, and you’d submerge yourself in christmas drinks in london and making sure that the w14 wasn’t as god awful.

then, you’d see him again in february wondering if he’d finally gotten a girlfriend, despite that inkling of hope, or if he was bored of your face every time he shut the door of a hotel suite. you were far too scared to broach either topic and somehow he always came back to you. what if he didn’t, though? what then? you’d never be allowed to enjoy him all the time because what if? what if? you were only allowed him on the weekends. he could only be yours on the weekends, when everyone else stopped paying attention. looks shared in the heat of the moment did nothing to change that.

“i meant what i said. couldn’t have done it without you, you know.” he broke the silence, and you were thankful that you didn’t have to do it.

you let his words sink in. you hadn’t been able to before, submerged too quickly into the white hot pleasure to form a coherent thought.

“it’s a team effort.” you whispered. you didn’t move to look up at him. you couldn’t bare it for some reason.

“no. that’s not what i mean.” his voice was somewhat even, only slightly laced with annoyance. george never liked having to over-explain himself, he was very good at making people understand the first time. apparently that had never quite translated to you, too much time spent second guessing him, and more importantly, yourself.

“what i’m trying to say is thank you. for everything. for believing in me.” he murmured, lips pressing against your hairline. his fingers found yours in the dark, lacing them together. “with you, it’s a different kind of team effort. always felt like you were on my side. when i was at williams, when i joined you at mercedes, you always had my back.”

you stayed silent, unsure of what this meant, words being spoken softly into the darkness. it was overwhelming, having him vocalise his gratitude to you, something he’d never really done before.

“always knew you’d do it.” you whispered, words fanning across his chest. it was all a bit too intimate, unfamiliar territory being explored for the first time.

he turned into you, your head no longer resting on his chest, the low visibility doing nothing to hide the desire in his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you. it was slow, soft, that feeling from before nagging at you as your naked bodies moulded together. one hand cupped his neck, the other still held tightly in his.

this never happened after. ever.

how long could it last? slow kisses turned into sleep, held tight against his chest as the night faded into the misery of monday morning, and the weekend was over.

-

we love an ambiguous ending lol

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