#Michael Schumacher x reader

[maxillness]

╰┈➤Dinner? || MS7 x engineer!fwb!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, fwb, oral (f), fingering

Wordcount: 1.1k

Request: Michael in his prime at Ferrari and maybe a little fwb situation with an assistant or an engineer?

I know the request said fwb, but I love happy endings (unless you look at my tiktok), so did they end up in a committed relationship? Yes

Tag list: @isurvived3-11andimproud

Michael had won again, no surprise there

She walked up to his drivers room after she knew he had showered and changed. She knocked on the door softly, waiting for him to open up

“I told you to just walk in” He chuckled as he let her into the room

She turned around, walking closer to him, pushing him softly up against the wall “You won” She smirked slightly

“Nice observation. Good to know your eyes still work” He chuckled slightly

She stepped closer to him, trapping his body between hers and the wall, her hands working on his belt “Let me reward you” She said softly

He grabbed her wrists softly, pulling them away from him “As much as I like you on your knees, I’d rather have dinner with you tonight” He sighed, caressing the skin on her wrists with his thumb

“Dinner? Why? You never want dinner” She asked surprised

“Would you? My treat” He looked at her with the softest eyes she had ever seen. He never looked at her with that soft eyes, not even when he was needy

“I mean- sure” She shrugged slightly

“Good. Thank you” He leaned down, kissing her softly

She would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy the dinner, it was really nice, but she couldn’t help but be worried

He chose food over sex. He never chooses food over sex, not with her anyway

“Why are we at dinner, Michael?” She asked, putting her fork down beside her plate, looking up at him where he had stopped all movement of his body

“Can’t we just eat together?” He asked with a slight shrug

“Not when you chose it over sex. You never do that, and we never eat out together” She explained, her voice slightly worried

“You make it sound like I never treat you right- which you can tell me if I don’t” Now it was his turn to be worried- worried she felt used

“You treat me good, Michael- I’m just worried when you start doing things you never would’ve in the past” She had noticed it more recently, how he would start treating her more like a girlfriend than a fuck buddy

Leaving little gifts in her hotel room, or actually giving her them up front. Treating her to more snacks between sessions, sitting and talking to her more often than starring her down from the other end of the garage

“Look, I like this… Arrangement that we have but, I don’t want to just see you on race weeks, I want to see you everyday-“ He took her hand into his, his rough thumb caressing the back of her soft hand “-I want to wake up with you in my arms everyday, not just Monday morning after a race. I want to see you in my kitchen, preparing dinner because I can’t cook” They both chuckled slightly “I want to have you, y/n”

“You’re insane… For thinking I don’t want to have you too” She smiled softly

He was silent for a minute before he spoke up “You still want me to choose sex over food?” He asked with a slight smirk

They barely entered the hotel room before both their hands were on the other, kisses messy and wet- not that they cared in the moment

Her dress was quickly on the floor before he softly pushed her down against the bed, his head lowered between her thighs, kissing up and down the skin

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs, throwing them to the floor as well

She tugged at his hair softly, encouraging him to go closer to where she needed him the most

She gasped softly as he pressed his tongue against her clit, flicking it softly, his hands holding onto her thighs, keeping them open

She moaned softly when he slowly pushed two of his fingers into her, setting a soft pace as she got adjusted

He sped up his fingers and tongue, curling his fingers so he hit the spot that made her body shake, her vision blurry and his name falling off her tongue like a prayer

“Fuck- Michael- please. ‘M close” He knew by the way her walls were clenching down around his fingers and her thighs shook around his head

A few curls of his fingers more, and she came on his fingers and tongue, her body shaking and her throat sore from moaning too loud

She whined when he pulled away and out of her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after having wiped his fingers on her inner thigh

“Please… I need you” She panted, her voice husky

“A little needy, no?” He chuckled, removing his shirt and throwing it to the floor

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror recently? Why would I *not* be needy?” She was still panting heavily as he got rid of his jeans and briefs

“No, but I have seen you, and mein gott” He kissed up her stomach, up between her boobs, over her collarbone, up her neck and to her lips, kissing her softly

She moaned softly into the kiss, hooking her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her arms around his neck, keeping him close

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both moaning softly when he slowly pushed himself inside of her

One of his hands were on her hip, the other arm bent by his elbow, holding himself up as he set a slow pace, getting her adjusted before he started moving faster

Her nails dragged down his back, leaving red trails on his skin, her moans getting louder while her back arched up from the bed

Her mind were too fucked out to cipher the different languages of praises that were spilling out of Michael’s mouth between kisses on her shoulder

“‘M close” She managed to get out between her moans

“Come for me, Liebling” He moaned softly, his thrusts getting sloppier and out of rhythm

A few sloppy thrusts later, and she was almost screaming his name, her walls rapidly clenching down around him as she came, her body shaking as well underneath his

A second later, he came, his hips stilled, spilling his cum into her, her name spilling out of his mouth in a quiet moan

He softly laid on top of her, both their breathing heavy and their bodies glazed with sweat, their messy hair sticking to their foreheads

”Ich liebe dich” His words were mumbled into the skin of her neck, but she heard them alright

“I love you too” She smiled softly, kissing the side of his head, caressing his back softly

[s-awturn]

I'm in my F1 Dilfs phase, a little (very) obsessed with Fernando, Jenson, Mark, Seb, Kimi and Michael

So send me your favorite stories of theirs, I want to read ALL of them.

[iceman-kazansky]

Formula 1 Masterlist

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Ayrton Senna

The Burn of Jealousy

Michael Schumacher

Sebastian Vettel

Niki Lauda (Irl or Daniel Brühl in Rush)

Before Breakfast

Kimi Raikkonen

Mika Hakkinen (I can try)

[its-avalon-08]

could you do a schumacher!daughter reader fic pretty please😇 somethin g soft and sweet

anon you read my mind <3

little schumi (ms7!daughter)

(p.s. i showed by father this gif and he has tears in his eyes, side note: my dad loves michael schumacher)

The familiar scent of burnt rubber and ozone hung heavy in the air as Y/N Schumacher navigated the bustling Formula One paddock. Unlike her brother Mick, who was gearing up for qualifying, Y/N never felt the pull of the racetrack. Instead, she gravitated towards the human stories that unfolded around it.

A gruff but gentle hand landed on her shoulder. "There you are, little Schumi," boomed a voice that could only belong to Kimi Raikkonen. Y/N grinned, returning the signature Kimi side-eye. "Kimi! Did you see Valtteri's new helmet design? It's outrageous!"

Kimi snorted. "Looks like a flock of angry parrots attacked it." They shared a laugh, their easy camaraderie a testament to the years Y/N had spent soaking up the paddock atmosphere. Every driver, engineer, and mechanic knew her, a familiar smile in a world of high-octane adrenaline.

Fernando Alonso, a close friend of her father's, spotted them and sauntered over. "How's my favorite Schumi doing today?" he asked, ruffling her hair. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't you have a qualifying session to win, Fernando?"

"Practice makes perfect, but spending time with you is always a priority, pequena," he winked. Y/N knew the playful banter was a way to deflect from the unspoken. Her father's condition was a shadow that loomed over the entire F1 family.

Just then, a young reporter, all bright eyes and eager questions, approached Y/N. "Ms. Schumacher, a few words for Sky Sports? Can you share your thoughts on your father's health?"

Y/N's smile faltered. Everyone knew this was a touchy subject. Sebastian Vettel, who was just passing by, overheard and stepped in. "Let's leave Y/N out of this, shall we?" he said, his voice firm but kind. "She doesn't owe you a public statement."

The reporter looked flustered. "But sir, it's a question everyone wants answered." Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And everyone will have to understand that some things are private, especially when it comes to family." He offered Y/N a reassuring smile. "Come on, Y/N, let's grab some coffee before the chaos starts."

Grateful, Y/N linked arms with Sebastian. The paddock might be a competitive arena, but the drivers, the ones who understood pressure and risk, formed their own kind of family. They understood her silence, her need for normalcy in a world obsessed with speed.

As they walked, Y/N overheard snippets of conversations. "Poor Y/N," someone murmured. "She must be going through hell." Another voice added, "Leave her alone, haven't they been through enough?" Y/N offered a small, sad smile. It hurt, but it also warmed her heart. Her father, with his quiet strength and unwavering determination, had built a legacy that transcended wins and podium finishes. He had inspired loyalty, respect, and a fierce protectiveness that extended to his daughter, even in this fast-paced, unforgiving world.

Reaching the small coffee shop tucked away in the paddock, Y/N settled into a booth with Sebastian. "Thanks, Seb," she said, her voice soft.

Sebastian squeezed her shoulder. "Anytime, Y/N. You know, your dad would be proud of you. The way you handle yourself, your kindness… it's something special."

Y/N smiled, tears pricking her eyes. Maybe she wouldn't be on the racetrack, but here, in the heart of the paddock, amongst the roar of engines and the smell of racing fuel, she felt a part of her father's legacy.

time skip

The post-race debrief was abuzz with post-adrenaline chatter. Y/N, perched on the edge of Lando Norris' chair, listened with a half-ear as he recounted his epic battle with Daniel Ricciardo on the final lap. They may be from different teams, but their young love story was a paddock favorite.

"…and then I went for the undercut, and bam! Second place!" Lando finished, a triumphant grin splitting his face. Y/N leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Amazing job, my champion," she whispered, earning a playful swat on the arm.

Suddenly, Charles Leclerc burst through the door, his phone held aloft. "Did you guys see this?!" he exclaimed, brandishing a news article. Max Verstappen, who was sprawled on the couch next to Lewis Hamilton, snatched the phone. "What is it, Charles?"

Max's eyes narrowed as he scrolled through the article. "Seriously?" he growled, throwing the phone onto the coffee table. Y/N's heart lurched. It couldn't be good.

Lewis picked it up and read aloud, his voice heavy with disapproval. "'Mick Schumacher: A shadow of his father's talent?' This is ridiculous!"

Y/N's blood boiled. How dare they criticize her brother, especially so harshly? She felt tears prickling her eyes, her fists clenching. Before she could react further, Lando was by her side, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

"Hey, hey," he soothed, his voice a low rumble. "Don't let them get to you. Mick's a phenomenal driver, everyone knows that."

Carlos Sainz, ever the comedian, piped up from across the room. "Besides, who needs talent when you have good looks like Mick, right?" he winked, earning a playful shove from Charles.

Y/N forced a smile, her anger slowly simmering down. She knew they were trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated their support. "Thanks, guys," she sniffled. "It just… it's frustrating."

Lewis, his calm demeanor ever-present, spoke up. "Let the results speak for themselves, Y/N. Mick's still young, and he's already proving himself. This kind of trash talk doesn't deserve your attention."

Max, still fuming, grabbed the phone again and typed furiously. "There," he declared, showing the screen to the rest of them. "I just tweeted my support for Mick. Let's see how those journalists like that."

Y/N let out a laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. These weren't just her teammates, they were her family, her chosen tribe. They understood the pressure, the scrutiny, and the unwavering loyalty that bound them together. They wouldn't let some random article bring her down.

Lando nudged her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, you know who the real untalented one is," he whispered, leaning in close.

Y/N playfully swatted his arm. "Oh yeah? And who's that?"

Lando winked. "The one who keeps losing to me on the simulator, obviously."

Their playful banter erupted into laughter, the tension completely forgotten. Surrounded by her closest friends, Y/N knew that no matter what the headlines said, she had her own championship team, one that valued love, support, and a good dose of healthy teasing.

time skip

The air crackled with a bittersweet energy as the F1 paddock celebrated Michael Schumacher's birthday. Banners emblazoned with his iconic number 7 adorned the pit lanes, and mechanics sported specially designed caps. Yet, beneath the celebratory facade, a current of unspoken grief hummed.

Mick and Y/N Schumacher stood shoulder-to-shoulder, a united front against the tide of emotions. Their gazes were fixed on a freshly painted mural across the track. It depicted Michael, mid-race, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of red. The artwork was a poignant reminder of the man they missed terribly.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper.

Mick nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "They captured him perfectly." A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Mick spoke, his voice gruff. "It hurts, doesn't it? Seeing him… but not really."

Y/N reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's the worst kind of absence, Mick. We know he's there, but…" she trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

Mick pulled her into a side hug, his protective aura a familiar comfort. "I know, Y/N. I know. But you're not alone. We have each other, and we have Mom. We'll get through this, together."

Y/N leaned into her brother's embrace, finding solace in his strength. "I know," she murmured. "It's just… I miss him telling me bad jokes after qualifying."

A choked laugh escaped Mick. "Yeah, those were the worst." He paused, then added, "But he still loved them, didn't he?"

Y/N chuckled, a tear rolling down her cheek. "He did. He loved seeing us laugh."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, the paddock noises a distant hum. Y/N looked up at the mural, a flicker of determination replacing the sadness in her eyes. "We'll make him proud, Mick. Both of us."

Mick met her gaze, his blue eyes mirroring her resolve. "We will. We owe him that."

A hand landed on Mick's shoulder. Sebastian Vettel stood beside them, his expression solemn. "He is proud of you both," he said softly. "Every single day."

Y/N and Mick exchanged a grateful smile. In that moment, surrounded by the people who knew their father best, they felt a surge of strength. Michael Schumacher's absence might leave an aching void, but his legacy, his love, and the unwavering support of their F1 family would forever keep his spirit alive.

[vettelsvee]

I DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR WINNING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 2 here

summary: y/n thinks she's sick from f1 traveling stress, but what if that's not the reason of her sickness?

word count: 992

warnings: hints of having sex. mentions of wishing to die (because reader is sick af). use of y/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

It was barely five in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon of the city of Berlin. Sebastian and you, without having been able to rest after the German Grand Prix that had taken place just hours ago, were at the airport of the German capital, ready to head to Hungary, where the next Formula 1 competition would be held.

You were aware that following the lifestyle of a high-level racing driver was not easy. However, you didn't think that getting eight hours of sleep or having free time would become privileges that you would have, in part, during the holiday period. Despite the excitement that filled you every time you embarked on a new destination, you had been feeling unwell for several days, and no matter how hard you tried to remedy it, all you did was worsen it.

Seb, who knew you well enough to know that something was wrong, tried not to make a big deal out of it. He knew that you tended to get sick frequently, although the fact that you was quieter than usual and didn't have as much energy as usual started to worry the blonde who, at the moment of takeoff, observed carefully as your face grew paler, while you gripped the armrest of the seat tightly.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sebastian asked with concern.

You tried to breathe deeply to calm the wave of nausea you were feeling right now.

"Yes," you simply replied, faking a smile. "I just feel a little uncomfortable with takeoff, you know airplanes and I are not friends. Stop worrying, love. You'll see it'll pass soon."

Despite your multiple reassurances, Seb couldn't convince himself. Your eyes reflected how you felt, and he had no doubt that you were hiding something from him to avoid worrying him.To try to relax you, he leaned towards you to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I know you've told me you're okay, but if you start feeling worse, let me know, okay?"

You nodded, silently thanking the German for his concern.

Although he tried not to make a big deal out of it, the truth was that as the flight progressed towards its destination, you felt worse, even reaching the point where nausea turned into frequent trips to the bathroom to vomit, and constant dizziness into a desire to faint and not wake up for a few days.

"Seb, I swear… I can't deal with this anymore."

After suddenly getting up from your seat, hurrying to the bathroom trying not to cause too much commotion among the other passengers, you quickly locked yourself in the small cubicle, bending over the toilet to empty everything you didn't know you had inside yourself. Sebastian watched with concern as you fled, trying not to lose his composure under the curious gaze of those present, including a few Red Bull engineers.

“Y/N!”, Seb called out as quietly as he could, anxious because you weren’t responding. “Are you okay? Please, open the door.”

You didn't answer him, which only heightened Vettel's anxiety. He fixed his gaze on the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out and give him some explanation of what was happening.

After what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the bathroom with a completely pale face and a tired look. Sebastian simply pulled her close to his chest and held her tightly in an embrace.

"Love, what's wrong?" he said anxiously. "I need to know what's going on. Things can't continue like this if you're going to keep accompanying me. I'm sure it's getting to you: everything is overwhelming you and..."

Suddenly, you began to cry from the helplessness you were feeling, causing Sebastian to hold you even tighter, stroking your back to help you relax as much as possible.

"I can't take it anymore, Seb. I feel awful. I want to die right now."

"We should seek help," he said, wiping your tears away. "We'll see what we can do now to keep you as relaxed as possible for the remainder of the flight, okay? And when we land, we'll go to an emergency room to see what's wrong with you."

Sebastian then called one of the flight attendants in their area and explained the distressing situation, emphasizing that he wouldn't want anyone to find out to avoid conflicts with both the media and his team. The flight attendant simply nodded and informed them to return to their seats, immediately assisting the world champion's partner.

"Mrs. Vettel, here's some water and an aspirin," the woman kindly offered you. "Additionally, I've informed the crew about your wife's situation," she said, now looking at the blonde, "and they confirmed that if she gets worse, there's no problem in making an emergency landing at the nearest airport."

"I'm not Sebastian's wife..."

"Thank you very much," the driver interrupted, thanking the flight attendant for her assistance.

The German began to laugh at your reaction as soon as the woman left.

"You should have seen your face, Y/N. You can't deny that you didn't mind being referred to as my wife," Seb said, stroking your hair and opening the water bottle for you to take a sip.

The flight continued, and although the nausea had been brought under control, the discomfort persisted. The couple was aware that there was only, thankfully, about half an hour of travel left.

"Darling," Sebastian whispered sweetly. "Close your eyes and focus on your breathing: inhale through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. I'm here, hold my hand."

You followed your partner's instructions, allowing yourself to be guided by his voice, which was truly comforting in those moments, in each inhalation and exhalation. Gradually, you began to feel calmer, and you would even swear that you hadn't felt this way in several days.

Finally, the plane reached its destination. You felt greatly relieved that the flight, which had caused you so much distress, had come to an end as it had left her physically and mentally exhausted.

As soon as your feet touched Hungarian soil, Sebastian made sure that you felt as comfortable as possible before heading to the hotel. Despite the rush Britta, Sebastian's PR, took a moment in some small seats to rest and, as much as possible, recover from the turbulent journey they had just endured.

Although he knew he might hurt your feelings, Sebastian decided to broach the subject with a mischievous smile:

"Love, don't you think we've had enough intense Sunday nights celebrating my victories? Because I think it's led to something good."

At first, you were a bit confused, but a few seconds later you let out a shy and sweet laugh. The driver wasn't lying: sex had become your ritual to bid farewell to the weekend and, above all, as a celebration of Seb's victories that season. Now that you remembered, there were quite a few occasions where you didn’t use protection, so you thought that the possibility was even more up in the air now.

"It could be, Seb," you said with a knowing smile. "If I am, we could have a pretty big problem..."

"Please, love, don't say that," Vettel drew closer to you, taking your hand and gently tracing small circles on it with his fingers. "If you're pregnant, I'm sure you'll be an amazing mother. Besides, I know we haven't talked about this, but I've always wanted to be a father and I can't imagine anyone better than you to fulfill this dream."

Tears began to form in your eyes, and you hurried to wipe them away to prevent your boyfriend from noticing.

"So, what do you say? Should we tell Britta that we need to go to the pharmacy and buy a test? That way we can find out, and if it's a no, we can keep trying," you clarified eagerly. "What do you think about tonight?"

Feeling excited, after you explained the situation to the woman who had become another member of the family, and who, obviously, had been thrilled at the possible news, headed to the nearest pharmacy to avoid arousing suspicions among the journalists and paparazzi, who were lurking around with the intention of getting the latest scoop on the man of the moment.

Alone together and holding the small bag containing the test, you began to feel nervous as they approached their room. Upon entering the suite, you both sat on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to calm themselves before checking whether you would become parents.

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath, "I'm ready."

After that, you opened the box containing the test and went to the bathroom, where you followed the instructions carefully. Once finished, you placed it on the surface of the sink and returned to where Seb was, waiting for the indicated time to pass to see the result.

You approached your boyfriend, who gently stroked your back once again to comfort you. He knew you were nervous and scared. He felt the same way.

"Whatever the result is, I'm grateful to have a woman like you in my life. I'll be by your side no matter what, ok?" Sebastian reassured you.

Tears filled the your eyes again, and as you looked at your watch and saw that the waiting time was over, you ran as fast as you could to the bathroom, followed by an anxious Sebastian.

Quickly, you took the test in your hands and saw the result:

"It's positive!" you shouted, your voice trembling. "I'm pregnant, Sebastian!"

A wave of emotions engulfed you both, not knowing what to do except to embrace tightly as you felt a mixture of astonishment and joy, as well as uncertainties about what could happen from that moment on.

"Well, it turns out that in the end I'm not just good at pointing with my index finger when I win," Sebastian teased you mischievously.

"I find it surreal that you're making dirty jokes after finding out we're going to have a child."

"I guess," the driver continued playfully, "we'll have to tell this little one that his dad is a two-time, for now, Formula 1 world champion, and that his mother is a champion in other aspects."

You laughed at your boyfriend's quips, finding them unbelievable.

"Come on, Seb, don't act modest now saying you didn't have merit. You know perfectly well that I motivated you quite a bit during those baby-making sessions."

"Of course, I'm not saying otherwise," the German continued jokingly. "I'm sure the baby will become the royalty of Formula 1. Who wouldn't want to have Vettel and Schumacher genes?"

Both of you burst into laughter, filling the room, giving way your thoughts on how you would tell your families, the media, your respective coworkers... Especially, you spent a few minutes sharing your expectations about what your life would be like from that day on.

"Miss Schumacher and future Mrs. Vettel, let me tell you that now that we know we're expecting a little miracle, I propose we celebrate it in a more... intimate way."

"You can't even give me a day's break, can you? I don't know about you, but I'm convinced my father wouldn't find it amusing to hear his daughter screaming to ask her boyfriend for more," you said, knowing your father would be in the adjacent rooms.

"I know," Seb simply said, "but I’ve won in life, and I don't apologize for winning."

[bunny-norris]

Clearing out my dads things today and he is a massive F1 fan and always has been - here are some of the magazines i found and scanned!

(don’t worry, these will not be thrown out they’re staying with us, but you all deserve to see them!)

if re-used please repost or like or give credit!

[silversurfersx]

Films of Anger

Sebastian Vettel x Schumacher!Reader

-- Brocedes 2.0 basically. Childhood best friend's fight on track turns into a fight in real life

Light Angst with a bit of fluff sprinkled in xD

"Papa, let me go!" Michael Schumacher's arms around you were the only thing that stopped you from attacking Sebastian right now. You fought against the stone grip around your body, trying to reach for Sebastian, who was held back by Kimi, though he wasn't exactly fighting much against the Fin's grip.

Michael moved his head down so it was leveled with your own. "You have to calm down." His usually soft voice when he spoke to you, was stoic. You were scared to look at him after hearing it so close to you.

"He almost killed me!" You insisted, voice firey as you stared Sebastian down. Your statement was followed by aggressive shouting from both you and Sebastian, catching the attention from all around. Although most of the people couldn't understand the angry german words leaving either of your lips, the tone spoke more than words could.

"If you drove properly, neither of us would have DNF'd." Sebastian shouted. Once again you started to fight your fathers iron grip, trying to fight Sebastian. You heard your father huff, and felt your feet leave the ground as the man behind you lifted you up in the air, to carry you off.

"Papa!" You shouted, wiggling your body. "Let me down!"

"I let you down if you promise not to try and beat up Sebastian and come and talk to me."  He announced carrying you around the paddock. The more distance he brought between you and Sebastain, the more embarrassment started to fill you after noticing the many judging looks people threw at you. Cameras were locked onto the two of you, filming the whole ordeal.

"I promise. I swear, we can talk, just please let me down." You said quickly. Michael nodded and let you down, his hands though stayed put on your shoulders to make sure that you won't run off.

"Do you want me to grap your mother?" Michael asked, looking down at you, but you just shook your head. You didn't want to see the disappointing look in her eyes, knowing that she probably saw the whole scene live on TV in the garage. "No." "

Alright." Michael nodded, one arm thrown around your shoulders, the other gripping the other. Silently he led you through the paddock. You kept your head down, still feeling eyes and cameras set on you, trying to get a look at your face. Your father threw each and everyone a look that silenced them without doubt.

He was well aware of the stupidity of the situation you and Sebastian acted upon, but he didn't think that it was anybody's business to know what truly went on.

When you passed the garages you frowned, thinking that Michael was gonna drag you into a silent corner of the Ferrari or Mercedes garage, but your journey went on towards the motor homes. Pushing into the Ferrari Motor home, you went through the halls up to your drivers room.

When the door closed your shoulders dropped, sluggish you moved to the couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions. You felt your father's presence standing by the door and without a look, you knew what he looked like. Like waves, the questions rolled off of him.

Trying to waste time before you had to speak, you opened your driving suit to let your body cool down from the heated situation.

"What happend?" His voice broke the tension. You thought you were prepared for anger in his voice, but all you heard was sympathy, and that broke you. Tears filled your eyes, while you tries to keep it together you looked up through swimming sight. Your voice was on the verge of breaking as you spoke.

"I messed up, Papa." Michael sighed at the sight of you. He wanted to be angry, but how could he when you looked so broken. He shook his head, moving to sit next to you and pull you in his arms.

"What happened?" He asked again head on top of your own. You had your head pressed against his chest, breathing heavily.

"I think I broke our friendship off." You muttered thinking about what happened just after the race.

__

1996

The first time you met Sebastian was when your were seven years old. He was nine and just won a race. Your father was the one handing out the trophies.

You weren't old enough to drive in the same league as Sebastian yet, but you were always tagging alongside your father when it came to anything racing related. It was your thing. Papa and Y/N's thing.

Racing was what connected you. The hours you spent in your garage building on your kart alongside your father. Nothing brought you more contentment than that.

It was lunch time when you were standing by a concession stand waiting for your food, when little Sebastian approached to order his own.

"What did you get?" He asked noticing your wide eyes looking up at the counter, waiting impatiently on your food. When the little blonde boy spoke, you looked over. An adorable smile graced his face when he noticed your wide eyes.

"Currywurst. For me and my Papa." You had announced to him, giving a toothy grin. Sebastian nodded excitedly.

"It's his favourite." You added whispering as if it was the most important secret. Sebastian laughed leaning over to you to answer in the same hushed voice. "It's my favourite as well."

Giggling filled the air around the two of you.

"I just saw you race." You told him after the giggles stopped. "I think you were really good, and so did my Papa."

The blonde boy blushed lightly looking down at his shoes.

"Thank you."

"Did you race as well, or a sibling?" He asked but you shook your head. "I do race, but I'm not old enough to race with you. I'm here because my Papa was giving out the trophies."

Sebastian halted, his eyes were wide as he stared at you. You titled your head at him, although you were used to these types of reactions from people, it never seized to amaze you what kind of presence your fathers name had on people.

"Your father is Michael Schumacher?" Sebastian stuttered, making you nod. Humming you agreed with a bright smile. Pride swelling in your chest at the thought of your dad and his impression on the young boy in front of you.

"That is so cool." Sebastian exclaimed, jumping on the spot. You giggled at his excitement, listening on to Sebastian's words. "He's my hero. And one day, I'll be just like him."

That was your first of many meetings with the blonde haired boy you would call your best friend for many years. At one point you started karting together, slowly moving up the leagues until you both landed in formula one.

Sebastian had already been in formula one. Having moved from Toro Rosso to RedBull, when you finally joined formula one as well, signing your contract with Ferrari. The announcement didn't just make you beyond happy, but Sebastian and Michael as well. It was what you all had dreamed about, the three of you driving together in formula one. Sebastian and you driving alongside your childhood hero. Driving alongside your best friend and your father.

It was like a fairytale come to life. And even the hate and doubts from the outside world couldn't kill the joy you felt. It was all magical, until the inevitable had to happen.

It was always a fight on track. Even if you were friends beside it, on track everyone was your enemy. And especially when you were young and wanted to prove something, that could mean nothing less of reckless behaviour. Sebastian was a model example of exactly that. It was an one on one between the two of you.

You were leading, Sebastian wanted through. Obviously you didn't want that so you defended. And that was the moment when it all went down. You were coming out of a curve. Sebastain was on your right, overstearing, you still weren't sure if that was on purpose, but almost knocking you off the track.

Trying to keep your car steady, your front wing interlinked with his car. You both noticed too late what was happening, simultaneously trying to pull away from the others, and knocking you both out, while trying to get away from the other.

In your mind it was clearly Sebastian's fault for overstearing. In Sebastian's it was you for hitting his car trying to get back in track.

Michael sighed. He hadn't had time to watch the footage of what exactly happened, yet. All he knew was that the two of them had an accident and DNF'd no one told him what exactly happened. He was just on his way to rewatch the accident and to look for his kid to make sure she was alright when he came across the screaming match.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad." He told you.

You shook your head against him, tightening your arms around the man. "That wasn't the bad part. I tried to talk to him after, but he was mad, Papa. Like proper mad."

__

When you were wheeled back into the garage, you couldn't stop tapping the wheel out of impatience. You were itching to give Sebastian a piece of your mind.

What in the world was he thinking, trying to push you off the track. Was he crazy?

When everything was good you stepped out of your car, took off your helmet and the HANS, before storming off. A few of the Ferrari mechanics tried to stop you, but you moved out of their way, before running off towards the RedBull garage.

It was the last lap, how could Sebastian be so stupid to risk it all at the last lap.

From afar you could see the grimace your friend had on his face as he spoke to his engineer. When he saw you, his brows furrowed and his face formed into a grimace, similar to the one you had.

"Sebastian, are you fucking crazy or what?!" You shouted in german fron afar as you approached the boy. The blonde looked at you angrily. 

"Me? What were you thinking crashing right into me? This isn'tfucking bumper cars."

"Yes, exactly, it isn't." You agreed, stopping beside him right in front of the RedBull garage. "So why in the world did you think knocking me off track was a good idea?"

"Knocking you off track. Fucking hell, there was enough space a fucking hippo could have walked past." He hissed back, eyes filled with an angry fire. "It's your fault, you can't fucking drive. The only reason your even in formula one is because your father is fucking Michael Schumacher."

"Oh, let's be fucking real, Sebastian." You shouted. "You know that that is not the reason, I fought for my place, just like you did. And if you look at the listing you would see that I've got the numbers to prove it, because I am in front of you."

"Oh, piss of will you." He shouted back.

Neither of you noticed it, but your voices hot louder and angrier the more you spoke catching the attention of many bystanders and drivers getting back to the pits after finishing the race.

"If you think you're so much better then get on with it, will you. But I will prove to you that I am much better than you are, little rich kid"

You saw red at his indication. Of course you had the money, you knew your family was rich, but you told the boy often enough that you hated being reduced to simply that. That the thought of being reduced to only being a spoiled little kid was something you despised.

That was the moment you tried to leap at him, though Kimi Räikkönen pulled him back before you could get to him, while you felt your fathers arms around you.

As you told him exactly what happened you felt his arms tighten around you. You knew he was angry with Sebastian about talking to you like that, but he tried to hide it.

"Oh, Schatz." He mused strocking a hand over your hair. "I'm sure it is only half as bad. You both probably just need some time to cool off and the you speak again."

Michael was trying to be reassuring. Always the positive thinker, the joy bringer. He was always trying to see the best in people and he knew that Sebastian wasn't a bad person. He's known him since he was a little boy. Michael hoped that it really was all just because of the heat of the moment. Even if the words spoken were cruel in nature, he hoped that they had not broken your friendship, which had gone through so much already.

"It's gonna be alright, Maus." He muttered into your hair.

[cutielando]

why don’t we go there? | m.s.

synopsis: in which you help him believe in himself again

my masterlist

The clock in front of your eyes moved incredibly slow. As you inched closer and closer to the paddock, your heart began beating out of its chest.

Some time ago, coming to the paddock to watch the race was a dream come true. You enjoyed every moment of it, feeling like you were a dream and you never wanted to wake up.

But now, that dream turned into a nightmare.

You knew the risks you were taking when you began your relationship with Mick, seeing the other partners and what they had to go through just for being with a driver.

Ever since you announced your relationship to the public, the problems started creeping in.

Fights between the two of you, his fans dragging you through the mud, the media outlets tearing your relationship to shreds from the outside.

You felt like a stranger into your own relationship, like an outsides looking in as everything was going to shit right under their eyes.

It tore you apart. Every Grand Prix you attended represented another nail in the coffin of your relationship with Mick.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, hearing Mick’s voice calling out to you.

Looking out the window, you noticed that you were already in the paddock parking lot, Mick having already turned the car engine off.

“Sorry, I was just thinking” you forced a smile out of you, trying to mask how much you dreaded going into the paddock.

Mick eyed you suspiciously, but nodded nonetheless.

You thanked God that he couldn’t read through tour facade, not wanting to risk having another fight with him in such a public place.

After you got out of the car, Mick reached out and took your hand in his, trying to give you a sense of comfort. But even he knew that it was in vain.

“Why are you so tense?” he asked, scanning your passes and smiling at some photographers.

You smiled with him, not as naturally as you would’ve maybe liked.

“I’m not, I’m just a little tired. Didn’t sleep that well last night” you said, hoping he would buy it.

Of course, he wouldn’t even know how you slept last night. He came back to your hotel room late, opting to crash on the couch instead of your shared bed.

He nodded, not giving you a second thought as you approached the Mercedes garage.

Just like he always did.

“I’m gonna go talk to my engineer before practice. Find a place to sit and do your thing” he said, giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead before disappearing.

You sighed, looking around at the place your boyfriend had been calling home for years now. And yet, despite the many times that you had been inside that very garage, you felt more as an outsider than ever before.

Between the neglect you were suffering from Mick, the hate you were receiving from his fans, the way the media was painting you as a bad influence on Mick, you didn't feel you belonged anywhere in his world.

"Y/N?" you were shaken out of your thoughts once again, meeting George's worried eyes scanning you.

"Oh, hi George. Sorry, I'll be out of your way" you grabbed your purse tighter and went to leave and go to the hospitality, but he grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away.

"Are you okay? You were spaced out for a good while there" his expression was worried, which was exactly what you had wanted to avoid.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I'm gonna go hang out in hospitality, wish you guys luck with your practice" you nodded and left before George could say another word.

♡♡♡♡♡

Being alone in your hotel room while your boyfriend was out somewhere with his team allowed you time to contemplate.

You loved Mick, and you loved being with him. But lately, it seemed like you were the only one present in the relationship. He would barely touch you, look at you or speak to you when you would be alone together.

You had never thought that going public would cause your relationship to completely collapse. It broke your heart, and you didn't know what to do to fix it. If there was even anything left to fix.

The door opening grabbed your attention. "Y/N?" Mick called out, his footsteps growing louder as he came closer and closer to the bedroom.

You quickly tried to wipe your tears, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell you had been crying. But you weren't fast enough.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice not sounding bothered at all.

"Nothing"

"I know something's wrong. Tell me what's going on with you"

Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was his choice of words, or maybe simply the fact that you were so tired of holding everything in that prompted you to completely break down and let everything out.

"We're not doing okay, Mick. Ever since we went to the paddock together for the first time, nothing has been the same. We barely talk to each other, you barely touch me or look at me unless you have to, your fans and the media are tearing me to shreds, calling me a gold digger and saying I'm only with you for your money and your fame and you couldn't care less. I barely see you anymore, it seems like you're doing everything to make sure you're not around me. You're staying out late, I don't know where you are half of the time and you can't wait to ditch me whenever we go somewhere together. I'm tired of fighting for a relationship that I'm not sure is worth fighting for" and with that you started sobbing, curling up on the bed and hiding your face in your hands.

Mick was shocked beyond words.

He knew he had been in the wrong. He realized he had been doing exactly what you had said. He'd been neglecting you, and the worst part was the fact that he didn't have an answer as to why. He saw the hate that you had been getting, and he didn't think it was worth it to say something in your defense. Why? He didn't know.

But as he heard your sobs fill the room and saw your body shaking with the intensity of your crying, he realized how much of an asshole he had been towards you.

"Shhh" he enveloped you in his arms, hugging you tightly and squeezing you close.

This was the first time he had touched you in weeks, you had even forgotten what his embrace felt like. In your vulnerable state, you forgot about the last few weeks, the hate and everything, completely melting in the arms of your boyfriend.

"It's okay, I'm here, let it all out" he kept whispering in your ear, kissing the top of your head and petting your hair.

As you slowly started to calm down, you didn't make a move to pull away from him, having missed his touch too much.

"Can we talk now?" his voice was soft, in contrast with the icy tone he had had when he had come back to the room.

You nodded, clearing your throat and slowly pulling away from him.

"I know I've been a shitty boyfriend lately, and there's no excuse for how I've been acting. I've been under a lot of stress from the team and I've been taking it out on you, which you didn't deserve. I'm sorry for how I've been treating you, I'm sorry for not standing up for you to my fans and the internet and I'm sorry I haven't been around. I love you, and I promise that I'm gonna do better, I'm gonna be a better boyfriend and I'm never going to make you feel like this ever again" he was holding your face in his hands, his eyes tearing up.

You knew you shouldn't cave in so easily, make him work for it more than this. But you loved him, and you could never resist him.

"I love you too" you whispered, caressing his cheek and connecting your lips, sighing at the feeling you had been missing.

Despite your rough patch, you both knew you were going to be alright, as long as you had each other.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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REQUEST HERE

[httpsleclerc]

here’s an idea for mick & vettel!reader :) they go go karting as young kids & at the track some rude boys make fun of her for being a girl & mick stands up for her

THANK YOU ANON I LOVE THIS

You beamed up at your dad, your wide, excited smile evident on your face despite the helmet you were wearing. Sebastian smiled as he situated you into the go kart, making sure that you were strapped in tight, since you were on the smaller side and tended to sometimes slide around the small seat.

"Feel okay, liebling?" He asked you, nodding and grinning as you gave him a thumbs up in response, looking over as Michael helped Mick into his own go-kart, going through the same routine he did with you. "Remember, you and Mick are on the same team, you don't need to beat Mick, just the other boys, okay?"

"Okay daddy," You responded, once again giving your dad a double thumbs up just to emphasise how much you understood what he was telling you. "Are you and Mick's daddy gonna watch us?" You asked your dad hopefully, Sebastians heart swooning at your puppy dog eyes which were visible through the visor on your helmet.

"Yes, Liebling, we'll be right over here cheering you both on, okay?" Your father assured you, stepping off of the go kart track as a whistle was blown, Michael coming to stand beside the younger German. The two watched and commented as you lead the rest of the boys for more than half of the allocated laps, with Mick taking over your lead in the second half, but watched as you pulled what could only be described as a stunning overtake last minute and winning overall.

"Daddy! I won!" You cheered as you came pelting towards your father, tossing your helmet to the side as you ran towards your dad, your small self colliding with his legs with a small grunt. Sebastian smiled as he picked you up, holding you at his hip so he could place a small kiss on your cheek as a congratulations.

"I know! You did so good, liebling!" Sebastian congratulated you as he pointed to the small gold medal hanging from your neck. "Mick did really well too, didn't he?" You nodded and grinned at the mention of your best friend, whose silver medal hung proudly around his neck as his own father congratulated him. "Me and Mick's dad are going to get you two ice cream, so you two stay here okay? Do not move." You nodded, understanding how stern your dad was being.

"You did so good y/n," Mick smiled at you as the two of you sat on the bench previously occupied by your fathers. You blushed as you looked away from him, going shy at the praise from your best friend.

"Thanks, I might let you win next time, Mickey," You teased him, the two of you giggling at your joke. However, your laughter didn't last long as you were soon pushed from your seat on the bench, landing on the ground on your hands and knees with an oof. "Ow! Hey!" You whined, tears bubbling in your eyes.

Three boys, who you had beaten, were clearly unhappy with the given result of the race - Which was a bit ironic since it was a kids go-karting race and not a real Formula One Grand Prix.

"What are you even doing here? You're just a stupid little girl, shouldn't you be playing with barbies or something?" The boys friends laughed at their jabs at you, laughing even further as you started quietly crying, at this point just wanting your dad and to go home. "Aww, poor crybabies upset. Maybe you should just go home, little girl." Their jabs at your age were almost laughable, since you were 6 and these boys were 8, you had driven laps around them during the race.

"Leave her alone! You're just jealous that she's better than you and that her dad is here," Mick tried to be as formidable as possible towards the older boys, who did seem taken aback at the young Schumachers words. "You're just being mean to her because you are not as good as she is, she did a lap around you and you so maybe you should go home and play barbies!"

Following Mick's defence of you, the older boys backed off and left the two of you alone, leaving Mick to help you up off of the ground and back up onto the bench.

"It's okay y/n, they are bad drivers anyway," Mick tried to make you laugh, but you continued crying due to the seething pain in your skinned palms.

"My hands hurt, Mickey," You cried to him. Mick, knowing a way to help you which his mom always did, picked up your hands gently and placed small kisses on each of your palms.

"There! All better."

[dzala-va]

what’s a one word to describe Michael?

[daisybianca]

pairing: mick schumacher x femalereader

summary: mick loves to give you hickeys. but now, after a restless night of love and sweat, you have to cover them up so as to accompany your boyfriend to a race as one of the most adored wags of the paddock.

warning: mostly fluff, mentions of sexual activities, slight swearing

"FUCKING HELL." You muttered as you examined your latest love mark.

The night before was sensual, and Mick--like always--had made you feel special and so goddamn sexy. However, he had also given you multiple hickeys that seemed to cover most of your neck. And today just so happened to be the day you ran out of concealer. You were moody and had to accompany your boyfriend to the upcoming race in a couple of hours.

“What is it, baby?” Mick grumbled; he was still in bed and had lazily only covered himself in the top white linen sheet you had picked out for his birthday.

He looked like a mess, and from his actions last night, you didn’t expect him to be able to get out of bed until past noon. You wish you could just stay with him in bed, but since it was a race day, you had to cover up the mess your boyfriend had made.

“Mick… you covered my neck in hickeys.” You replied as you rummaged through the drawers of your vanity.

All this sudden movement caused Mick to finally sit up in bed. Yawning, he slowly moved toward you. “What’s wrong with my love bites, babe? You didn’t seem to hate them last night.” You stopped looking through your drawer and turned to glare at him, but it fucking backfired. Even in his sleepy state, he still managed to turn you on. His colorful eyes were dazed out, and his silver locks were pushed off to the side, and he had clearly had his fair share of hickeys as well. But knowing him, he would most likely not even cover them for the race. More likely than not, he’d walk around the paddock in a tank top and show everyone the hickeys you had given him.

“Baby, don’t be mad, but I can’t go around the paddock with a neck covered in hickeys. My neck looks like a fucking giraffe neck.” Mick laughed at your words and his blue eyes lit up.

You finally found some old concealer hidden in the back of the last dresser drawer. You smiled and began applying it on the soft and sore surface of your neck.

Mick scoffed as he watched you apply the cover-up. “Baby, you should just know that I’m going to give you even more now that you said you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them. I just can’t go to your race with them. Besides, you can cover my belly with as many hickeys you want.”

“Really? Can I start now?” His eyes were widened and filled with joy, but you couldn’t waste another minute or else you both would be late. “How does 1:30 sound?” You bargained.

He frowned and shook his head. “Sounds like ages, babe.”

“Oh well, if you behave, you might just get blown after you finish marking up my stomach.” With that, you finished applying your makeup and began to collect your things in order to shove them into your backpack. Only to have him pull you in close.

“You don’t need makeup, you know that, right?” You shook your head and kissed him. “I know. But, if you don’t get ready for the race right now, I’ll take away your hickey privileges." Mick kissed you and ran to the closet so as to grab his clothes.

●○•°•○●

requests are always open for my wags <3

[maxillness]

╰┈➤You’re Gonna Help Me || MS7 x Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f), drivers room sex, fingering

Wordcount: 1k

Request: Have you seen the clips of Michael storming down the paddock to confront someone (David C, I think). Just after that, that’s all I have to say 🫣

Michael had almost lapped Coulthard, but the two of them collided, making him DNF

Michael was beyond mad. He stormed down to the McLaren garage

Everyone at Ferrari tried to stop him, but was at no use

Everyone was trying to pull him back and get him back to his own garage

She stepped infront of him, pushing at his chest “Stop it” He looked down at her “It’s not worth it”

He sighed softly before taking a grip on her bicep, pulling her with him down to the Ferrari garage

“Michael! What- let go of me” He dragged her into his drivers room, pushing her up against the locked door, his lips on hers

She took his face into her hands, pushing him slightly away. He groaned slightly at the absent feeling of her lips

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing?” She asked confused, feeling the slight stubble under her hands

“I’m mad and you’re gonna help me, okay?” His tone was demanding, but still made sure to check if it was okay with her

She hesitated slightly, but nodded “Yes” She barely got the confirmation out before his lips was back on hers

She moaned softly into the kiss as his hands gripped her hips, pushing her further up into the door

He licked her bottom lip, and she wasted no time to open her mouth enough for him to push his tongue into her mouth, pressing against hers

She gasped slightly at the new feeling of his tongue against hers, swirling slightly around eachother

His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw and to her neck “You’re gonna have to be quiet for me” she mumbled against her skin “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Yes” She choked out, covering a moan

“Good girl” He Said, placing open mouthed kisses on her neck, making her release small whimpers

He chuckled slightly against her neck while one of his hands worked on getting the button of her pants open

“Michael, please” She whispered in a needy tone when he slid his finger beneath her panties

She whimpered slightly as she felt the rough pad of his finger against her clit

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this” Michael panted over a soft chuckle, his lips softly on her jaw

“Michael… Please” She whimpered, her hips moving against his hand, her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair

She yelped slightly as he picked her up by the back of her thighs, lifting her over to the couch before laying her down on it softly

She whimpered softly as he lifted her hips up so he could pull her pants down and off of her

He placed open mouthed kisses from her knee and down to her inner thigh, drawing out small whimpers and whines from her

“Michael-“ “Shh. Patience” He shushed her whine, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, slowly pulling them down her legs

She had to bite down on her hand to muffle a moan when he started attacking her clit with his tongue, his hands tight on her thighs

One of his hands went from her thigh to his fingers teasing her entrance

Her hand was tight in his hair, her other hand covering her mouth as he pushed in two fingers

“Michael, please” She whimpered as he started curling his fingers upwards, hitting her spot perfectly

Her thighs shook slightly as he continued the movements of both his tongue and fingers, feeling herself get closer, her walls clenching down around him

Michael pulled out and away from her, making her whimper from the loss of touch and stimulation, her hands now both down by her sides

She panted softly as Michael leaned back on his knees, pushing his suit down just enough to get his cock out

He leaned over her body, positioning himself between her legs

She wrapped her arms around his neck subconsciously

Michael’s hand went over her mouth as he pushed himself into her, covering a moan

His hips were stilled letting her adjust while his lips worked on her neck, hearing her soft panting through the gaps of his fingers

She moved her legs to be wrapped around Michael’s hips, encouraging him to start moving which he did, slow and soft

He rested his head into the crook of her neck, smirking slightly as he heard her mumbled moans as he went faster and harder with his thrusts, but making sure to not to make any significant sounds between their skin

“Fuck, you’re pretty” He groaned softly, kissing the side of her neck, feeling himself getting closer to his orgasm

Her nails were digging into his shoulders through his fireproofs, sure to leave marks for him to feel later

“Close” She managed to mutter out behind the palm of his hand, her walls clenching down around him

“Come for me, Liebling” He moaned softly, watching as her eyes were shut closed

Her nails dug further into his shoulders, keeping herself from screaming his name as she came, shaking around him

“Hold on, Schatz. Just a moment longer” He spoke softly, hearing her whines and whimpers of overstimulation

He grunted softly, stilling his hips as he spilled his cum inside her

They both panted softly, his head in the crook of her neck, his hand now away from her mouth, caressing her thigh instead

She was standing in front of the small mirror in his drivers room, trying to fix her messy hair before giving up and just putting it into a bun “Y’know… If you ever need to ‘de-anger’ again…” She looked at him through the mirror “You know where to find me”

He stood up slowly, walking over to her before wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her shoulder softly “I’ll hold you up to that”

[s-awturn]

Carlos Sainz and his Brazilian girlfriend:

Carlos: You love me?

Y/N: Of course, love

Carlos: More than them? *Shows photos of Ayrton Senna and Michael Schumacher*

Y/N: No, know your place.

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngingeer Reader.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 5- here’s the LINK to the previous part. Jen is quickly becoming the most popular girl in Red Bull, and making quite the impression on the paddock. As months pass she’s a delight to work with and Sebastian feels like he’s losing his mind whenever he’s around her. He’s not so silent about his feelings towards her, and the two find themselves flirting at any given chance. Sebastian thinks she’s so important to him he wants to introduce her to a close friend of his…

Just a pre-warning the next chapter will include spice so be prepared 🌶️

This gif makes me want to cry, great xxx

Silverstone, England, June 30th 2013. “Ah, well done, well done!” I clapped my hands together excitedly seeing Mark embrace his wife, Anne. Afterwards I gave him a quick hug, congratulating him for 2nd place and a spot on the podium. “Such an amazing drive, you should be so proud.” I nodded as the Australian’s grin was undeniable. I’d hoped for first place for Mark, but the myself and the team was overwhelmingly happy with second, especially after Seb’s gearbox failure.

“Thank you, thank you. I appreciate it.” He smiled as I offered him another before he went on to be congratulated by the rest of the team. Not too far away, I noticed Sebastian was finished talking with Christian nearby. His head was hung low and he looked a little awkward. I hated the feeling that churned in my lower stomach, I knew this could pose a threat to his potential championship win, but I was positive without the gearbox failure he would’ve won. I was also positive he would win the next race. It was always more frustrating when something completely out of the drivers control effected the race results.

I slipped over, sliding a hand on his shoulder. “Hi.” I gently smiled, his head perking up and a soft smile appeared. “Hey.”

“You alright?” I tilted my head up to look at him. “Yeah, just frustrated but- these things happen.” My hand slowly slid off his arm.

“I know, it’s so frustrating. You drove so good this whole race though.”

“That’s why it is even more frustrating.” He scratched the back of his neck as I winced, maybe I shouldn’t have rubbed that in. “I know.” I gently spoke as he tilted his head back up from the floor.

“These things happen.” He shook it off, “are you free, right now?”

“Pretty much.” I glanced around, “I don’t think anybody needs me for anything; I just wanted to get a head start on looking at this track at Nürburgring.” Seb’s smile widened.

“Come take a break you smarty pants.” He slapped my arm gently, his disappointment still faint on his voice. “I’ve got somebody I want you to meet.”

“Right now?” I knotted my hands together, toying with them nervously. “Yeah.” Sebastian smiled. “And I wanna get out of here before anybody else asks me about today.” “Okay.” I agreed. “Yeah?” He smiled as I nodded, allowing him to lead me out of the garages. “Who are we meeting?” I then asked, skipping to keep up with his long paces.

“Somebody.” He was grinning ear to ear. Whoever it was must’ve been special. “Somebody? Is that all you’re gonna say, what is it the queen?” “Michael Schumacher.” I stopped dead in my tracks. Eyes widening as an excitement bubbled in my chest. “No!”

“Yeah.” He laughed, “c’mon.”

“I can’t, Sebastian, I’m scared!” I felt my nerves seeping through me. Sebastian had turned around now, laughing out loud as he grabbed at my hands to pull me. “Why?” He giggled. “Because I love Michael Schumacher, I’m nervous.” I planted a hand on my chest. “He’ll love you, come.” He began tugging on my hand as I stumbled forwards, my hands moving onto the back of his shoulders. “No, I’m worried!”

Sebastian turned around with a grin, “do I have to drag you?”

“Yeah.” I teased, not expecting him to fully lift me up over his shoulders. I gasped, grasping onto his shirt as he held the back of my legs, holding my dress down. “Sebastian! No!” I choked out, my hands gripping at anything I could possibly get a hold of. He was laughing mischievously, jogging out through the garage as I bobbed on his back.

“Seb, Seb, Seb! Sebastian!” I cried out, half in horror half in enjoyment as I felt like I was gonna go backwards over his shoulder. “Oh, hallo, Sebastian.” An all too recognisable voice made my eyes widen in complete surprise. “Hallo!” Sebastian greeted, beginning to put me back down on my feet.

“Wer ist dein Freund?” (Who is your friend?).

I spun around, the blood rushing to my face as I pushed my hair back in surprise. Stood there was Michael Schumacher and his wife looking amused at the position I’d just been in. “Hello!” I practically giggled.

“Ah, this is Jenna.” Sebastian put a hand on my upper back, still laughing from my previous panic. “This is Michael and Corinna.” I greeted both of them politely.

“Girlfriend?” Michael grinned back to Sebastian as I spluttered nervously. “No, no, she’s the design engineer for us.”

“Ah, really?! I’ve heard of you before, I’m glad you’re here actually…” What ensued was a conversation about the Nurburgring track and it’s safety, I never thought I’d have such an in depth conversation with Michael Schumacher, I was pretty starstruck. He and his wife were so friendly, although they did like to keep referring to me as Sebastian’s ‘girlfriend’ which got me all red in the face. “I’m glad you met him.” Sebastian spoke when we walked back to where he was supposed to be present at the F1 after party. His arm was slung over my shoulder as I smiled up to him in amazement. “Me too, I’m in shock.” I held my hand to my chest. Seb’s hand slowly crept onto my arm, rubbing at the exposed skin as I bit down onto my shoulder. His touch was warm and his hands were so big, big enough to engulf any part of my body.

“They liked you. I knew you’d get along with Michael anyway, you’re so clever you know everything that he finds so interesting.” He complimenting, playfully pulling me in front of him and squeezing at my shoulders. As he did, I let out a burst of laughter at the ticklish sensation, squeaking as he began laughing, pulling me closer into his front. Oh god, I was a flustered mess, it felt like we were a couple. “What was that?!” He asked in amusement, grinning as he spoke, my hands holding onto his fingers. “I’m ticklish, don’t do that again.” I felt him squeeze once more as I tensed, giggling out until he pulled me flush against his chest, arm wrapped over my chest. My body was against his, every time he took a step forwards, his crotch would inch against my bum and I felt borderline perverted at the fact it was turning me on.

“I’m sorry.” He grinned, squeezing me gently as I held onto his arm. “You’re a wind up.” I slapped his skin lightly. “A what?” He glanced over my shoulder. “A wind up, you know, you torment me on purpose.” I explained, stumbling over my words slightly as he simply smirked in response, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. His lips looked so plump and kissable, our faces were so close, I wanted to kiss him so bad. The months of the close friendship had only made me feelings and attraction grow deeper for him. “Oh, here come the love birds!” Christian Horner’s voice exclaimed as I snapped my attention towards the red headed man, Seb’s arms sliding off me slowly as he left one hand resting just behind my shoulder.

“There you are! We’ve been searching for you!” He spoke to Sebastian. “Ah, sorry we were talking to Michael.” “Talking to Michael, canoodling, whatever you were doing.” Christian teased as I tensed my jaw out of a slight shyness. Sebastian had to hurry on stage after that, offering me a pat on the back as I was left feeling uncomfortably frustrated when the cold rush of air replaced where his hands and body had been. I was turned on by him. I couldn’t deny that, how cheeky he was, how cuddly and close he got to me. I felt my lower core ache and it felt like my mind was on fire, too occupied by the idea of his hands roaming further down my chest to focus on anything else…

[its-avalon-08]

tell me why you're here (dc14)

anon you're a star! istg such good requests, thanks alot for reading <3

pairing - David Coulthard x ferrari!driver!reader

The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of exhaust fumes and the thrumming tension of a championship fight. 2001, Monza. You, the undisputed Scuderia Ferrari Queen, and David Coulthard, your McLaren nemesis, stood on opposite sides of the grid, a simmering rivalry stretching back years reflected in your steely gazes.

There was something undeniable between you two, a spark that ignited on the racetrack and flickered in the post-race interviews, veiled in thinly veiled barbs and stolen glances. But the truth was, unspoken fears kept you both tethered to your teams. The scarlet of Ferrari was your armor, the prancing horse your symbol of unwavering loyalty. McLaren, for David, was a second family, and Mika Hakkinen, his teammate, a brother-in-arms. To break ranks, to chase something more, felt like a betrayal.

The lights flicked out, the grid a blur of red and silver as you surged forward. Every lap was a dance on a knife's edge, pushing the limits of the car and yourself. You battled wheel-to-wheel with David, the roar of the crowd a distant echo in your helmet. Then, disaster struck. Bottas, the Williams driver, misjudged a turn, clipping your rear wing. The world tilted on its axis as your Ferrari went airborne, a sickening weightlessness before a bone-jarring impact with the barriers.

The cockpit filled with dust and the acrid tang of burning rubber. Your head throbbed, vision blurry. Disoriented, you fumbled with the release lever, the silence deafening after the symphony of the engine. You stumbled out, shaken but miraculously unharmed. The red car, however, lay broken and unmoving, a testament to the violence of the crash.

David, having witnessed the horror unfold in his mirrors, felt a primal jolt of fear course through him. It was a fear that transcended their rivalry, a raw, visceral terror that left his palms slick with sweat. But he clenched his jaw, a silent apology lodged in his throat. McLaren needed this win, and Mika was hot on his heels. He couldn't afford to falter.

Fear, raw and primal, clawed at his throat. It was a fear that transcended their rivalry, a terror that left his palms slick with sweat.

He couldn't take his eyes off the dust cloud engulfing the spot where your car had disappeared. The championship fight with Michael was a distant thought, the roar of the crowd a dull thrum in his ears. His voice, when he finally spoke, was tight, a mask of professionalism barely containing the tremor of worry.

"Get me a status check on the red two," he barked into his radio, his gaze fixed on the dissipating smoke. "Accident at Lesmo. Looks bad."

"Copy that, David," his race engineer, Dave Masten, replied, his voice laced with concern. They both knew the dangers lurking on the high-speed corners of Monza.

David pressed his foot down further, the car a blur as he pushed for every last millisecond. He knew he couldn't afford to lose focus, not with Mika hot on his heels. But every corner, every bump, sent a fresh jolt of unease through him. Images of your crumpled car, of you… he pushed them down, burying them deep. He couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment. Yet, with every passing lap, the worry gnawed at him, a relentless current beneath the surface.

"Any word on Y/N?" he finally asked, his voice clipped, betraying none of the turmoil within.

"Medical team's on the scene," Dave responded promptly. "We'll get you an update as soon as we have one."

David grunted, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He couldn't let this distract him. He had a race to win, for McLaren, for Mika, for himself. But a silent vow echoed in the confines of his helmet. He would see you, Y/N. He would get to you, somehow, the moment this damn race was over.

The race raged on, the roar of the crowd a distant echo in David's ears. He drove on autopilot, the image of your crumpled car seared into his mind. Finally, the checkered flag. A hollow victory, a McLaren 1-2. Relief washed over him, tinged with a gnawing worry.

As he climbed out of the car, the first person his eyes met was Michael, a grim expression etched on his face. "Y/N," he started, his voice tight, "they're taking her to the medical center."

David's heart lurched. All thoughts of the win, the championship, faded into insignificance. He didn't care about points or podiums. All he wanted was to be by your side, to see you safe. But duty, that ever-present burden, held him back. He could only nod curtly, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air, a promise he hoped he wouldn't break.

The post-race celebrations were a blur of forced smiles and hollow champagne toasts. David felt like a fraud, the gleaming trophy a cold reminder of a victory that felt hollow. He couldn't shake the image of your car, a mangled sculpture of red against the asphalt. The medical center visit had been a whirlwind – you were shaken, sore, but thankfully unharmed. Relief had washed over him, a tidal wave that left him weak at the knees.

But the relief was laced with a bitter aftertaste. He hadn't been able to see you. Team protocols, the swarming media, a suffocating sense of duty – all conspired to keep him at bay. Back at the McLaren motorhome, the silence was deafening. He showered, the hot water failing to wash away the lingering dread. Just then, a knock on the door startled him. It was Mika, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Mind if I intrude, mate?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

David sighed, gesturing for him to come in. "Fire away, Mika."

"Look," Mika began, his usual playful demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness, "I know what just happened out there scared the living daylights out of you."

David flinched. He hadn't spoken a word about his terror, yet Mika saw right through him.

"Don't worry, DC," Mika chuckled, "your secret's safe with me. But seriously, mate," he continued, his voice softening, "you looked like a ghost out there. You haven't been yourself since that crash."

David stared down at his hands, guilt twisting in his gut. "I just… I couldn't believe it. One minute she's pushing me hard, the next…" he trailed off, unable to voice the terrifying image that haunted him.

Mika placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of surprising tenderness from the usually stoic Finn. "You care about her, don't you?"

David met Mika's gaze, his own filled with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. "It's complicated, Mika. We're rivals."

Mika scoffed. "Rivals who can't seem to keep their eyes off each other. Come on, DC, we both know this dance you two have been doing is getting old. You think I haven't noticed the sparks flying whenever you're around her?"

David opened his mouth to protest, but Mika cut him off. "Look," he said, his voice firm, "life's too damn short for these games. You almost lost her today. Don't waste another minute wondering what could have been."

Mika's words hung in the air, a challenge and a dare. David looked into his teammate's eyes, seeing not just a competitor but a friend who understood. Maybe Mika was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding, to stop letting fear dictate his actions. He wouldn't let another day pass without knowing the truth, without letting you know how he truly felt.

A resolute expression settled on David's face. "Thanks, Mika," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "You're right. It's time."

The sterile white of the medical center walls had been a blur as the doctor droned on about rest and recovery. Back in the familiar confines of your driver's room at the Ferrari garage, however, the events of the day crashed down on you like a tidal wave. The mangled wreckage of your car, the searing pain that had mercifully subsided, the chilling realization of how close you'd come to...well, anything but a podium finish. You curled up on the small cot, exhaustion warring with a nagging anxiety. A soft knock at the door startled you.

Wiping the tears that had sprung to your eyes, you called out, your voice hoarse. "Yeah, come in."

The door creaked open, revealing a sight that made your breath hitch. It was David, clad in his now-unfamiliar McLaren overalls, his face etched with a worry you wouldn't have believed possible just a few hours ago. Before you could even process his unexpected appearance, he was striding across the room, his expression uncharacteristically intense.

The next thing you knew, you were enveloped in a warm embrace. His arms, surprisingly strong, held you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair. It was a gesture so foreign to the typically stoic David that you froze, unsure how to react. He'd never been one for displays of affection, not even in the fleeting, celebratory moments of a podium finish.

"David?" you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "What's wrong?"

He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes holding a depth you'd never seen before. Concern, something akin to fear, flickered in their depths. "I heard you were back," he said, his voice rough. "I... I just needed to see you, to make sure you were alright."

You blinked, your mind racing. This wasn't the David you knew, the one cloaked in professional rivalry. This was a man stripped bare, his emotions laid raw on the surface. A warmth bloomed in your chest, a counterpoint to the lingering chill of fear.

"I'm fine," you said, your voice finding its strength. "Just a bit banged up." You reached out, hesitantly placing your hand on his arm. The contact sent a jolt through you, a familiar spark you'd long suppressed.

A wry smile tugged at your lips, the memory of countless post-race interviews flashing before your eyes. "You don't exactly strike me as the huggy type, DC," you teased, the playful jab a way to mask the fluttering in your stomach.

David's jaw clenched for a brief moment, a flicker of his usual competitive spirit igniting. But then, his grip on you tightened, surprising you with its intensity. "Maybe," he murmured, his voice husky, "accidents have a way of changing things." He buried his face in your hair, the familiar scent of Ferrari leather and adrenaline a strange comfort. "Don't push me away, Y/N. Not now." The words were a plea, raw and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the composed facade he usually maintained. You felt a lump form in your throat. This wasn't just about the crash, you realized with a jolt. This was about something deeper, something unspoken that had simmered beneath the surface of your rivalry for far too long.

You let out a shaky breath, the playful facade crumbling under the weight of his unexpected vulnerability. "David," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, "why are you really here?"

He held you tighter for a moment, his silence a thrumming tension in the air. Then, slowly, he pulled back, his blue eyes searching yours. "Because," he began, his voice low and husky, "the thought of you… of almost losing you… it scared the hell out of me."

Your heart hammered in your chest. This wasn't just about concern for a fellow competitor. This was something more, something you'd only dreamt of.

"Scared?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

A wry smile touched his lips, laced with a hint of self-deprecation. "Scared enough to break all the damn rules," he admitted, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Scared enough to realize that this stupid rivalry… it doesn't matter anymore. Not compared to you."

The dam inside you broke. All the unspoken feelings, the stolen glances across the podium, the simmering tension that had fueled your every race – it all came flooding out. "David," you breathed, your voice trembling, "I thought… I thought you never felt the same."

He cupped your face in his calloused hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. "Always," he confessed, his voice a mere thread. "Always, but the timing… the teams… it never felt right."

A tear escaped your eye, tracing a warm path down your cheek. David leaned in, brushing it away with his thumb, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

David cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. He confessed, his voice a low rumble. "This whole time, this stupid rivalry… it was a shield. I was afraid to admit how I felt, afraid of what it would mean for our teams, for everything."

A bittersweet smile touched your lips. The fear you'd harbored for years, the fear of rejection, mirrored his own. "David," you said, your voice catching slightly, "I… I felt it too. The spark, the tension… I thought it was just competition."

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "It was always more, Y/N," he murmured, sending shivers down your spine. Then, his lips found yours in a hesitant kiss, a tentative exploration that quickly deepened with newfound urgency. The taste of adrenaline and relief mingled with something sweeter, a taste that promised a future neither of you dared to dream of.

He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. A soft laugh escaped his lips, tinged with disbelief. "Who knew a near-death experience would lead to this?" he whispered, peppering your face with gentle kisses, each one a silent apology, a promise.

The first kiss landed on your temple, a whisper-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The second brushed your cheek, lingering just long enough to leave your skin tingling. Then, a third, softer still, grazed the corner of your lips, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh, your voice barely a whisper. "David," you breathed, your hand reaching up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the firm line of his jaw.

He chuckled, a deep rumble that vibrated against your chest. "Don't tempt me, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. His lips danced across your jaw, trailing a line of fire down your neck before finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. A gasp escaped your lips as he lingered there, sending delicious shivers radiating through you.

His kisses were a whirlwind, a mix of apology and exploration. Each one whispered a story – the fear he'd felt watching you crash, the relief of seeing you safe, the yearning he'd kept buried for so long. You surrendered to the feeling, letting out a soft sigh as your arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer.

The world outside your small driver's room faded away, replaced by the intoxicating rhythm of your heartbeats and the warmth of his touch. In that moment, there were no rivalries, no teams, no championships. There was only you and David, two souls bound by a love that had finally found its voice.

The tender scene unfolding in the driver's room was a stark contrast to the usual post-race chaos. A few doors down the hallway, Michael Schumacher and Corinna were winding down after a celebratory dinner with the rest of the Ferrari team. Michael, still buzzing from his podium finish, was regaling Corinna with an anecdote about a pit stop mishap. But his voice trailed off as his gaze drifted towards the window overlooking the driver's area.

"What's wrong, Schatz?" Corinna asked, following his line of sight.

A sly grin spread across Michael's face. "Looks like Mika owes me a hefty sum," he chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

Corinna's eyes widened as she saw David, his McLaren helmet abandoned on a nearby chair, holding Y/N in a tight embrace. Her normally stoic teammate was peppering her face with kisses, a sight so unexpected it brought a smile to Corinna's lips.

"Aww, they're so happy," she murmured, a hint of fondness in her voice.

Michael chuckled again. "Remember that bet we made before the season started? Fifty bucks says those two wouldn't confess their feelings by Monaco."

Corinna rolled her eyes playfully. "Fifty bucks? You know you just wanted an excuse to see them squirm."

Michael shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe a little. But hey, at least they finally stopped dancing around each other."

Corinna couldn't help but agree. As she watched the tender scene unfold, a warmth bloomed in her chest. The rivalry between Ferrari and McLaren was fierce, but beneath the surface, there was a certain camaraderie, a respect for the talent and dedication of their competitors. And seeing Y/N and David find happiness, even amidst the high-octane world of Formula One, brought a smile to her face.

"Looks like Mika needs to pony up," Michael declared, reaching for his wallet with a triumphant grin.

Corinna swatted his hand away playfully. "Don't be a sore winner, Michael. Just be happy for them."

Michael feigned a hurt expression. "Fine, fine," he conceded, pulling her into a hug. "But you have to admit, this is a lot more interesting than that story about your dodgy pit stop crew."

Corinna laughed, the sound echoing down the hallway, a counterpoint to the soft murmur of confessions and the gentle rhythm of two hearts finally beating in sync.

[vettelsvee]

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 1 here

summary: a little bit of your pregnancy journey with seb

word count: 2809

warnings: none of it! just seb and reader being cute (at least that's what i think sjsj). settled on 2012 season

a/n: I love dad!seb bye, pls send me requests bc he's literally the seb i love to write the most about

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Yours and Seb's families

It had only been two weeks since Sebastian and you had discovered you were going to be parents in that room in Hungary, and you wanted to start sharing the news with your family.

After much deliberation on how you could do it in such a special way, you decided to organize an intimate dinner at the house they shared in Switzerland.

As you enjoyed the delicious dishes you prepared yourself with the useless help of your boyfriend, nerves filled you both as you prepared to share the news at the end of the dinner. So, when desserts arrived at the table and you enjoyed them while chatting animatedly about trivial matters, Vettel gently took your hand under the table. With a glance, you knew it was time to tell your parents what you had been hiding.

You took your glass of wine, from which you hadn't been drinking, and stood up, causing the attentive gazes of the three present to focus on what you were about to say:

"Mom, Dad. Heike, Norbert," you began. "Today you're not here just because I'm showing off my ridiculous cooking skills, but for a more special reason."

Confusion arose among the older couples, who exchanged confused looks with each other.

You began to get emotional, finding it impossible to articulate your words. Therefore, Seb took over for you, continuing with the improvised speech:

"I know it might not be the right time," the younger German expressed, taking your hand, "but you're going to be grandparents."

"Wait… What do you mean, Sebastian?" your mum asked curiously, doubting what her son-in-law just told them.

"That's right, son," Norbert agreed with your mum. "What are you trying to tell us?"

"We're going to be parents," you whispered, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm pregnant."

As soon as your mum heard from your own mouth that you were expecting a child, she rushed to hug you tightly, immediately joined by Vettel's mother, causing all three women to have teary eyes. Norbert immediately ran to hug his son, shouting in excitement as he did so, and your dad, on the other hand, was in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Wait a moment, Y/N," Michael commented, rising and positioning himself next to his son-in-law. "Are you saying that you've been accompanying Seb all season while pregnant, and on top of that, you've kept it from me?"

You started laughing at your dad’s comment. Sebastian, on the other hand, began to feel fear for the first time in his life towards the man who initially became his idol and, over time, not only his friend and mentor, but also his father-in-law.

"Dad, no!" you denied. "I haven't been pregnant all this time. I'm currently about three weeks along, and we found out as soon as we arrived in Hungary because I was nauseous and dizzy the whole trip," you explained.

"I'm sorry if this caught you off guard," your boyfriend apologized, especially to Michael. "It’s not like we haven't been hiding the pregnancy," the young man declared, "but we needed time to process it and make sure it wasn't a false alarm."

Schumacher sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around his wife. Heike hugged her husband, who still couldn't believe he was going to be a grandfather for the first time.

"Yeah, okay…" your dad finally replied. "I'm glad to know that my eldest daughter hasn't been taking unnecessary risks and that, furthermore, you've been celebrating Seb's victories properly."

The mention of this made Sebastian wish he could disappear at that moment just like you.

"Michael, don't say that to them!" your mum exclaimed, hitting her husband's arm. "I still can't believe we're going to be grandparents. It's wonderful! Congratulations, guys!"

Once you exchanged hugs and congratulations, the quartet returned to the table to finish enjoying dinner. The truth was that your parents were concerned about your condition, but for different reasons: on one hand, Michael knew how stressful Formula 1 could be day in and day out, and he didn't want his eldest daughter to suffer accompanying Sebastian, so he would have to have a serious talk with you. Corinna, on the other hand, knew they still had to break the news to Gina and Mick, who would be aunt and uncle in about nine months. As for the Vettels, there was nothing to comment on or exceed: in a few months, the family would grow even more, and the excitement of having the little one in their arms was overwhelming them at that moment.

The former decided to stay silent for the moment, pondering when he could have a chance to talk to you alone. Corinna, however, decided to ask you about what how would you break the news to your siblings:

"Y/N, dear," she immediately captured your attention despite being deeply engrossed in a conversation with your father about Seb's performance that season. "Don’t you want to share the news with your siblings? I think they would like to know that you're pregnant, they would be quite happy..."

"Yes, of course..."

"For now, we would like to enjoy this stage of the pregnancy privately," Vettel interrupted you, "although that doesn't mean we won't tell them. For heaven's sake, Corinna, my siblings don't know anything yet either!"

The woman glanced at her husband, who shot her a look to calm down. Indeed, both families continued to celebrate the new life Seb and you had created and, in due time, would reveal to the rest of their loved ones and possibly the whole world.

Mick and Gina

You couldn't keep the secret any longer. It had only been a couple of days since your parents and in-laws found out you were going to be parents. The same went for Seb's siblings, whom you finally called on the phone because they couldn't come to Switzerland at the moment.

Now it was time for Gina and Mick to find out they were going to be aunt and uncle at fifteen and thirteen years old.

Summer vacation was coming to an end for both teenagers and the eldest Schumacher. The kids had to go back to school, while you would be traveling the world again with you father and you boyfriend in early September.

For that reason, and because you were really excited to see her siblings' reaction, you decided to tell them that afternoon they would go to the mall.

"Guys," you said as you ate your bowl of cereal, "we're going to the mall today. I want us to spend some time together and, well..." you dropped a hint, trying to be mysterious. "I have some news to share, actually."

Gina's eyes widened in surprise. Mick kept his gaze fixed on his buttered toast with jam, pretending not to hear although he was actually really excited.

"Of course, Y/N!" Gina exclaimed excitedly. "I can't wait to buy some new clothes, especially to hear what you have to tell us."

"Exactly that," replied the youngest brother, mouth full. "You're acting very suspiciously, as if you've killed someone. Have you killed someone?"

Gina flicked Mick on the head, who immediately protested, sparking an argument. You simply cleared away your breakfast dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, leaving the kitchen seconds later, not believing that those arguing over a trivial matter would later discover they were going to be uncles.

Once at the mall, the three of you strolled through the aisles, looking for stores of interest and, especially, trying to blend in with the crowd, surprisingly succeeding.

The truth was that days earlier, you and Sebastian had agreed that to break the news to the kids, they would invite them to dinner at their favorite restaurant. However, to avoid raising suspicion, you would say that Seb couldn't make it because he had scheduled a meeting with Red Bull to discuss a few strategy matters. This way, you thought, the kids would be even more surprised.

As the afternoon wore on, your nerves, along with bags of clothes for the kids, and a few indulgences for themselves, grew.

"Y/N, is Seb coming with us?" Mick asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Oh, no, I forgot to tell you! Seb mentioned he had a Skype call or something with Horner and Red Bull about strategy, so he can't make it."

You hated lying to your siblings, especially about Vettel-related matters, particularly to the youngest. They had a very good relationship and sometimes seemed more like siblings than the three Schumacher kids together.

"I know you were excited to see him," you continued explaining, "but I'm sure in a couple of days, or even tomorrow, I can tell him to come over."

"Exactly, Mick," Gina chimed in, "let's enjoy an afternoon with siblings, there will be plenty of time for you to see your brother-in-law!"

After a while of strolling, you finally decided to take your siblings to the restaurant they held in such high regard. As soon as you entered, you spotted the Red Bull driver sitting at a table checking emails on his phone.

Sebastian looked up and found a preteen Mick Schumacher running towards him, receiving a hug the moment he reached him.

"What are you doing here, Seb?!" Mick exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "We thought you had a meeting with your team!"

Sebastian tousled the boy's hair and stood up to greet both Gina and you, who were giving him knowing glances at what was about to unfold.

"I guess these past few months I've become quite the expert in lies," you said. "And you're not here for just any reason."

Mick and Gina exchanged glances, not fully believing what their older sister was telling them.

"Indeed," Vettel continued, "before we order anything, we'd like to tell you that, around March next year, we'll be adding one more member to the family."

"You're going to be aunt and uncle, guys."

Both of them stood there speechless, trying to process what they had just heard.

"Is this for real, sister?!" Mick whispered cautiously, aware that you were public figures and attention would be on them at that moment. "We're going to have a nephew, Gina!" he turned to his younger sister, who was still in disbelief.

"This is incredible, guys!" Gina exclaimed. "I can't wait for March next year now... And I thought the best thing that could happen to me was going to see One Direction that month!"

You and Sebastian exchanged a knowing glance, realizing that the joy the younger ones were feeling at that moment was even greater than they had initially expected.

"We're so happy that you're part of this beautiful journey ahead," Seb explained, giving them both a hug. "I'm sure, and I know your sister and your parents are too, that you're going to be amazing aunt and uncle. The baby is so lucky to have a family like yours."

You wiped away tears. You hated getting emotional over the slightest thing, but at the same time, you were grateful to be surrounded by so much positivity and support from the early stages of her pregnancy.

"That's for sure, Seb," Mick replied jokingly. "But you have to understand that I'm going to be the funny uncle, and most importantly, his favorite."

The dinner continued with laughter, anecdotes from the teenagers that Seb and you had missed because of the Grand Prix races and, especially, future plans they would make when little Vettel-Schumacher decided to make his way into the world.

Mark Webber

After a month-long break, 2012 Formula 1 season was finally back in Belgium.

You, despite being about three, almost four, months pregnant, decided to continue accompanying you boyfriend for the remaining nine races.

Friday, before free practice sessions began, you were in Seb’s room at the Red Bull Racing hospitality. The German held an instant camera in his hands intending to take a few pictures of you, something that had become routine to document your pregnancy. You, reclined on the sofa in the space, simply caressed your increasingly prominent belly.

The flash of the camera snapped you out of your trance, immediately feeling embarrassed.

"Seb, I've told you a thousand times I don't like you taking pictures of me when I'm not ready," you commented, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Sebastian couldn't care less.

"You're perfect, Y/N Schumacher," Sebastian replied, taking another snapshot of you. "Come on, stand up for a moment and pose with our son for your future husband. You don't have to worry about looking good or not, you're doing enough work creating a life in your belly."

You agreed to your boyfriend's proposal, excited enough to hug your belly and shed a few tears.

Hormones were acting like crazy on you, and Sebastian Vettel might too if he kept being so good to you.

The blonde raised his camera again and once more took a picture of the scene in front of him, highlighting your smile above all.

As the photo was revealed and Sebastian, sitting on the floor, was admiring it, the door to the room opened, revealing a somewhat angry and surprised Mark Webber.

"Well, well…" the man exclaimed. "What do we have here?"

Sebastian and you exchanged looks, a mix of excitement and nervousness. No one beyond your families knew you were expecting a baby, and with the way the Australian was acting, you knew that would soon change.

"What you have here is the future best mother in the world, Webber," Sebastian explained, gesturing from top to bottom at you and then touching your belly once he stood up.

"That's incredible, guys! I'm really happy for you!" Mark approached you and hugged you, genuinely pleased with the news you had just revealed and especially by the trust you had in him to do so.

"Well, it seems Horner will be pleased when you tell him the news," Seb's teammate continued, "because I'm sure he'll want to sign the little one as soon as he's old enough."

"Of course, Mark," Sebastian replied. "Not every day you create offspring with both Schumacher and Vettel blood."

"The royalty of Formula 1, if I may say," Michael Schumacher interjected, entering the Red Bull garage despite not being part of the team. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to see how my daughter and my grandchild are doing."

You asnwered with a small ironic laugh at her father's remark, who was mistaken at that moment to think that Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would be a boy.

Kimi Räikkönen

The penultimate race of the 2012 season finally arrived, and you and Sebastian had finally revealed to the world that you were going to be parents. Although there were mixed reactions and comments, the majority of people who discovered that the eldest daughter of Michael Schumacher and the two-time world champion were going to have a child were quite pleased.

Both of you were in the paddock, arriving a bit later than usual. 

"Vettel, hey," Kimi called out as soon as he saw you two. "I heard rumors that you have a new passenger in your very own car. Is that true?"

You burst into laughter at Räikkönen's irony, who maintained a cool demeanor.

"Yes, Kimi, it's true," Seb replied, still chuckling. "The baby is due in March, so just a few months to go."

You nodded in agreement with your boyfriend's statement.

"So, there will be a new fan running around the paddock soon..." Räikkönen commented. "Make sure he doesn't miss the races, Y/N."

"Of course, no need to worry about it..."

"But, hey," Kimi interrupted you, "don't let him stay up all night watching replays of my victories, okay? He's needs some rest too."

Sebastian was bewildered. However, you were laughing even harder at Kimi's antics.

"Don't worry, mate," Vettel replied, "I assure you I'll train her in such a way that she'll be taking you on track before she's even ten."

"Yeah, right, whatever you say" the Finn said ironically. "Just make sure that when she decides to enter the world, you invite me to her big welcome party."

You nodded, playing along with the Lotus driver.

"It's surreal that you've won another victory, Vettel," Kimi continued. "And remember: invite me to the party. I want to welcome the little one with alcohol, lots of alcohol."

Kimi lowered his head in farewell and continued on his way to his garage, letting you both get on with your day.

You and Sebastian knew Kimi well enough to understand that most of his comments were sarcastic, but within the sarcasm, there was genuine happiness for them.

Who would have thought that years later, Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would become the apple of her godfather, Kimi Räikkönen's, eye, every time she visited the paddock with her mother.