#WAVE Single Championship

[wrestlingmgc]

Regina di WAVE Champion Hikaru Shida

[rickybaby]

“I knew my personality would make me a fan favourite.” Daniel on the Sunday Mirror

[blorbocedes]

On: different parenting approaches

so keke rosberg has a world championship, and a newborn son. he retires the sport a year after, the shadow of tragedy following him -- the fatal crash of his friend and f1 driver elio de angelis being the reason.

now keke has a blonde baby that looks like its mother and babbles in german. he bonds with his son in the language he knows best — no, not his mother tongue rusty with disuse — racing.

so he builds a track in their garden in ibiza and sticks his son in the two person kart beside him before he is old enough for the helmet to even fit properly.

keke takes nico to the last race of his career in DTM, in a smaller replica of his exact uniform. keke tells him to wave. the roar of the crowd terrifies nico. he can't. he wants to be a racing driver when he grows up.

and you know this part of the story. the boy follows in his father's footsteps. in the sport of nepotism, keke rosberg is the only world champion father who lives to see his son become a champion.

so nico rosberg has a world championship and a newborn daughter. he retires the sport a year after she is born. he knows the same fatality of the sport his father does, has experienced and lost firsthand.

now nico has a blonde baby that looks like its mother and babbles in german. nico wants to bond with her in every way he can. he wants to be hands on in every way.

he speaks 5 languages, went to an international school and both she and her sister are enrolled in the same one. he reads parenting books, has tea parties with them, and drops them to school.

the thought of his daughters following in his footsteps terrifies him, and he understands now why his mother could never stomach to watch a single race of his. this glorious unforgiving sport of his, and his father's, that doesn't care who it takes. and it seems unthinkable to put a child in a racecar, even though that was his childhood.

but if she really wanted, like he really wanted -- he would not deny it.

so he takes her to a indoor go kart track in monaco, in a helmet that's bigger than her. he's tucked right behind her, safe. they share so many languages in common, french growing up in monaco, german at home, english at school, some spanish from going to ibiza. and this -- although it's been a while since he's really spoken it, his father's language-- is one of them.

[cutielando]

a baku special | l.n.

synopsis: in which Y/N is there for the Baku GP

my masterlist

To say that Lando was excited for the Azerbaijan weekend was an understatement. Baku was probably one of his favorite tracks, and he was excited to finally be back after a year away.

He was especially excited that you were finally able to attend the race, having been stuck at work ever since you came back from the summer break. You were just as bummed that you had to miss the Dutch Grand Prix, especially since his family was there for Lando, but you finally managed to get some time off of work to join your boyfriend.

The entire team was grateful that you were able to tag along, frankly. They never failed to let you know just how mopey Lando was every time he had to leave you behind at home, how down he was and how much it took to get him to even smile or seem excited about the race.

Poking fun at him with Jon and Will was one of your favorite things, in truth. Even though he always got embarrassed, you knew he secretly loved seeing you get along so well with the closest people to him from the team. 

The weekend started very promising, to say the least. Both Oscar and Lando seemed very consistent and quick during the runs they did in the free practice sessions, and everything was looking very well for the qualifying session later that Saturday.

Lando had a very good feeling about it, jumping up and down in excitement in the last half hour he had free before he had to get in the car.

“You look excited as hell” you commented as Lando brought you with him as he started getting ready, smiling at how bouncy and energetic he was.

“I have a good feeling about this weekend, just wait and see” he smiled, giving you one last kiss before putting on his balaclava and his helmet, making you press a kiss to it before he made his way towards the car.

It had become your little ritual whenever you attended a race, giving his helmet a little kiss before he would get into the car. It made him feel more confident when you did that, reminding him that you were there with him, supporting him like you always did. 

But as the minutes ticked by during Q1 and Lando exited the garage with 2 minutes left on the clock, your heart started racing a little and panic started creeping into your veins. 

They had left it very late, and with the amount of yellow flags that have been shown during every single session so far in the weekend, you worried that something was going to go wrong and he wouldn’t be able to set a fast lap in time.

And, unfortunately, that was exactly what had happened.

He was doing so well, his lap times were so much faster than his previous lap and he was so close to the finish line when the marshals decided to wave that yellow flag for Ocon’s car, ultimately ending your boyfriend’s quali run in that exact moment.

Slamming on the breaks just mere meters away from the finish line, Lando slowly limped back to the pits, the session over for him much earlier than anyone had expected.

You didn’t need to see or hear him to know how gutted and disappointed he was by the pure bad luck he had with the timing of that yellow flag, the fight for the World Championship now more intense than ever. There was no room for mistakes, everyone knew that, but what could you do when things out of your control happen?

Will was just as disappointed as Lando when he had to tell him he did not have the time to start another flying lap, Jon was just as sad as you were to see him aborting and coming back 17th, and you… you had no words left in your body.

Lando got out of the car quickly, taking off his helmet and balaclava before accepting the water bottle you had been holding for him, his expression neutral, but you could see the turmoil happening in his eyes.

You slowly approached him as he drank from his bottle and stared off into the distance, pressing a hand on his back as you leaned in to whisper in his ear “Do you want to go back to your driver room for a bit?” 

He nodded, his mind still somewhere else but he allowed you to pull him with you, not even glancing at anyone in the garage. He felt bad enough as it was, he didn’t want to see the disappointed faces of his entire team, it would only make him feel worse.

You silently walked through the motor home, smiling slightly at people passing you and praying that none of them say anything to Lando. He just needed to be alone and away from everyone for a moment, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from the media just yet.

He deserved to be alone for at least 5 minutes following that qualifying.

The moment you got to his room, you locked the door behind you as he sat down on a chair, staring at his feet with an absent look on his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you kneeled in front of him, taking the bottle out of his hands and taking his hands into yours.

“The championship battle is over” he muttered, biting his lip as he sniffled. 

You shook your head, squeezing his hands into yours.

“Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that. You had back luck, baby, everyone knows that. You would have been P2 if that yellow flag hadn’t happened, and you know it. It had nothing to do with your performance, baby. It was FIA's mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ll come back stronger in tomorrow’s race and you’ll show everyone what a brilliant driver you really are” you said, punctuating every single word.

“What if I can’t do it? P17 is not really an ideal start” he said, but the corner of his lip threatened to lift upwards.

He was slowly coming back to you, slowly realizing that this wasn’t the end of the world, and it certainly wasn’t the end in his championship battle with Max.

“You will fight like hell and you will come back from this. I’m sure others will receive penalties and you’ll move up either way, but you’re a brilliant driver and this is nothing but another challenge to prove to everyone just how good you are and how much you deserve to have a quick car and win with it” you declared, your heart growing fonder once you saw the small smile Lando had on his face.

Just for the moment, he didn’t care about the race tomorrow, or about the fact that he had to start at the back of the grid. The only thing he cared about in that moment was that you were there with him, and that was all he needed in order to push through.

Just you.

♡♡♡♡♡

The morning of the race was very busy for Lando, having woken up a good while before you and left for the track so he could discuss the strategy with his team thoroughly. 

You didn’t wake up until 10am, having taken your time to get ready before heading to the track alongside Jon. 

Meeting up with Lando took longer than you had expected, him finally emerging into the motorhome an hour and a half before he had to be in the car to start the race.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked once he came into your view, joining you as you were grabbing breakfast.

He sighed, resting his elbows against the table and his head against his palm.

“I’ve been up since 7, going over different strategies since 8:30. I’m starting 15th, by the way. Pierre and Lewis are both starting from the pitlane, so that’s some good news” he said, making you smile and squeeze his arm.

“Remember what we talked about yesterday?” you asked, making him nod. “This is just another day where you have to drive your best and show everyone just how talented you are with a good car. Don’t think about how many cars you have to overtake, just go out there and have a good time. I have faith in you” you smiled and kissed the side of his head, resting your forehead against his shoulder as your hand caressed the hair at the back of his neck, the soft curls waving between your fingers.

“Sometimes I don’t know how I manage when you’re not here with me” he said, resting his head against yours.

You smile sadly, wishing that you could attend every single race in order to be with him. 

The two of you had had some talks during the course of your relationship, with Lando suggesting that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to work because he had more than enough money to comfortably support the both of you.

But you liked your job, you liked the feeling of belonging to a place just like Lando belonged in the racing world, and you liked earning your own money (even though you barely used any of it because Lando always insisted on paying for everything). But when there came times like these, when your fiancé just needed you to be there for him, you wanted nothing more than to quit your job and just follow him around the world.

That was a conversation you would have after the race, though.

“I love you, never forget that. I’m always here for you, even if I’m not physically here. I’ll support you from whatever corner of the world I am at, never doubt that” you turned his head towards you and kissed him, pouring every single emotion into the kiss.

Lando melted at the feeling of your lips against his, the feeling of kissing you never having less of an effect on him than it did when you first got together. The butterflies were still there, and he still giggled on the inside whenever you two kissed, like a teenager in love.

Because he was in love with you, head over heels, and he would never get over it when it felt so good.

“I love you too”

♡♡♡♡♡

Frankly, the race was one of the most stress-inducing races you had ever attended personally. 

You were biting your lip every time the screen would cut to Lando overtaking someone, the sight of the walls coming at him at very high speeds making your heart jump every single time.

But seeing him climb through the order as fast as he possibly could made you prouder than you thought you could ever be.

The last sting on the mediums trying to catch and overtake Max had you the most stressed. You knew it was a pretty high gamble, one that both Lando and the team were willing to make, but you also knew how badly Max defended his positions, whether he had the car to do it or not.

Painful flashbacks of their fight in Austria came at you with high speeds, the unfortunate retirement on Lando’s side with just a couple of laps to go still haunting the both of you.

But then, he got closer and closer to Max, with fewer and fewer laps to go, and then he was in front of him. You didn’t remember cheering as loudly as you did in that moment with the team, not even when he won in Miami or Zandvoort.

Crossing the finish line in P4 was more than anyone could have wanted, and with Oscar winning the Grand Prix and McLaren leading the Constructors Championship, it was an amazing day for everyone in the team, every single person involved.

But especially for Lando.

You were anxiously and excitedly waiting for him to get back to the garage, ready to congratulate him on a superb drive that he should be nothing but proud of.

And then when you finally saw him approaching, you couldn’t stop yourself from running over to him, jumping straight into his arms, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your legs locked around his waist.

“I’m so fucking proud of you” you whispered against his neck, tears running down your cheeks from how proud you were of him.

“Who would have thought, right?” he joked, sighing against your neck as he took in your scent and your presence, his adrenaline starting to wear off as your presence calmed him down.

The world around you seemed to not even exist anymore, it was only the two of you locked in a tight embrace, ignoring every noise other than the steady breathing and heartbeat between you.

“I never doubted you for a second. I know what you’re capable of and you proved everything today on track” you lifted your head from his neck and took his face in your hands, not wasting another second before pressing your hungry lips against his, kissing him like he was your oxygen and your life depended on him.

And so, in those moments, after such a disastrous start to the weekend, the love of your life prevails, with you by his side.

Like always.

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[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— SO HIGH SCHOOL !

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. popular quarterback bf! jake sim x fem! reader synopsis. in which you and jake are complete opposites, but you couldn’t be more in love with each other. he knows how to ball, and you know.. aristotle? genre. fluff ,, 1% angst. wc. 2026. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ omg i actually love this ☹️. 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! ‹𝟹

THE FINAL BELL RANG, signaling the end of another school day. but today wasn’t just any day—it was the championships game day. the entire school buzzed with excitement, and the air was thick with anticipation and tension.

students hurried through the halls, chattering about the big game and what it meant for the school’s reputation.

banners hung from the walls, declaring support for the football team, and especially for jake sim, the golden boy and star quarterback.

jake was everything a high school hero should be; charming, athletic, handsome, and kind. his perfect, heart fluttering smile and easygoing, honest demeanor won him friends and admirers from each and every corner of the school.

but what set him apart was his relationship with you.

you were jake’s girlfriend, and that fact alone made you a huge target. girls envied you, whispering behind your back, spreading rumors, and sometimes outright insulting you to your face.

it was hard, but jake made it all worth it. his love and support overshadowed all the negativity, and with him by your side, you felt like you could conquer anything just to be by his side forever.

as you walked to the bleachers that evening, you felt a mixture of pride, excitement and anxiety. jake had give you his jersey to wear, and of course you wore it to support jake.

but unfortunately that came with the cost of multiple dirty looks thrown your way, as expected.

you sighed as you told yourself it didn’t matter, you were there to support jake.

the stadium was packed with students, parents, and teachers, all eager to see if the team could win the championship.

you found a seat near the front, your eyes scanning the field for any sign of jake. the game hadn’t started yet, but the players were already warming up, their movements precise and practiced.

“look at her,” a girl behind you whispered, her voice dripping with disdain.

“she thinks she’s special because she’s dating jake!”

“i know, right?” another girl replied.

“she’s so plain. jake could do so much better.”

“right, she looks like such a pick me wearing that jersey, she probably stole it from jake!”

the girl said as her friends nodded in agreement sneering at you.

you tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the field where jake was running drills with his teammates. he looked up and caught your eye, giving you a reassuring smile that made your heart flutter. you waved back, feeling a little better. he always had that effect on you.

the game started with a roar of excitement from the crowd. jake took his position as quarterback, his confidence and skill evident in every single move he made.

the first quarter was intense, with both teams fighting hard for every yard. the tension was thick, and you found yourself gripping the edge of your seat, your eyes never leaving jake.

but the girls behind you didn’t let up.

“she’s probably only with him for the attention,” one of them said.

“i bet she doesn’t even really care about him, unlike me, I could treat him better.”

“yeah,” another girl added.

“she’s probably just using him to become popular.”

their words hurt you deeply, but you tried to focus on the game. jake needed your support, and you couldn’t let these girls get to you. still, their voices echoed in your mind, making you feel smaller and smaller, it was hard to concentrate.

the second quarter was even more intense than the first. jake made some incredible plays, his agility and precision leaving the crowd in awe.

you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him to be the best. it was one of the qualities you loved most about him.

at halftime, the score was tied, and the tension in the stadium was thick. you got up to stretch your legs, feeling the need to clear your head.

as you walked down the steps, you overheard more whispers.

“she’s so pathetic. look at her, trying to act like she belongs here, walking around like she owns the stadium.”

“i don’t know what jake sees in her. she’s so..average.”

you clenched your fists, trying to hold back the tears. it wasn’t fair. you loved jake, and he loved you. why couldn’t they just be happy for you? why couldn’t they treat you as well as they treated jake?

you found a quiet spot near the concession stand and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself and get yourself back together.

“hey, you okay y/n?” a familiar voice asked.

you turned to see one of jake’s teammates, mark, standing there with a concerned look on his face. he was a good friend of jake’s and had always been the kindest to you.

“yeah, i’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile at the sweet boy.

“just needed a break.”

mark nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “don’t let those girls get to you. they’re just jealous, you know.”

“i know,” you sighed.

“it’s just hard sometimes.”

he patted your shoulder. “jake’s lucky to have you. we all see how happy you make him.”

“thanks, mark,” you said, feeling yourself cheer up at his sweet words.

“that means a lot.”

you headed back to your seat, feeling more reassured and comforted. you were here for jake, and that was all that mattered.

the third quarter began, and the intensity of the game only increased. both teams were giving it their all, and the crowd was on the edge of their seats.

as the clock ticked down to the final moments of the game, the score was still tied. the tension was almost unbearable, and you found yourself holding your breath with every play. jake was in the zone, his focus unshakable. you knew he could do it. you believed in him.

with less than a minute left on the clock, jake made his move. he dodged the defenders with a grace and agility that left everyone in awe. you could see the hunger in his eyes, the fire that was driving him the entire game.

he threw the ball with perfect precision, and it sailed through the air, seemingly in slow motion. the crowd held its breath as the receiver caught the ball and ran into the end zone.

touchdown.

the stadium erupted in cheers, the noise deafening. you jumped to your feet, your heart pounding with excitement and relief. the team had done it. they had won the championship. you watched as jake was lifted onto his teammates’ shoulders, his face beaming with pure joy.

as the team celebrated, jake’s eyes found yours in the crowd. for a moment, everything else faded away. he broke free from his teammates and ran towards you, his face lighting up with glee.

you met him halfway, running down from the bleachers, your heart racing.

the girls’ voices were still in your head, but they were drowned out by the sound of the cheering crowd and your own pounding heart.

when jake reached you, he didn’t hesitate. he lifted you off your feet, spinning you around before setting you down and cupping your face before kissing you deeply.

the world seemed to stand still as his lips met yours, the intensity of the kiss as the noise of the crowd faded into the background.

when you pulled back, breathless and smiling, jake looked at you with a lovesick look that made your knees weak.

“i love you, y/n!” he shouted, his voice carrying across the field. “i love you so much!”

your face flushed with embarrassment as the crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, spotting mark hooting in the back, making you giggle.

the girls who had been talking badly about you moments ago were now screaming in delight.

“they’re so cute together!”

“i knew they were serious, i told you guys!”

“girl what… you said that she was average-“

“when? they’re like a fairytale couple!”

suddenly, the rain started to fall, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a downpour. people began to scatter, running for shelter, but you and jake stayed where you were, oblivious to everything but each other.

the rain soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care. all that mattered was the feel of jake’s arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

“you’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with love and admiration. “no one's ever had me like this, not like you.”

tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks as you nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings.

“i love you too, jake,” you replied, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

as you stood there, wrapping your arms around his neck kissing in the middle of the field, the rain pouring down around you, you felt invincible.

it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or said. you and jake were so deeply in love, and that was all that mattered.

eventually, the crowd started to return, umbrellas popping up everywhere. but you and jake stayed in your own little world, holding each other close.

the rain was cold, but being near jake felt like sitting in front of a lit fireplace on a snowy winter day.

the championship game would be remembered for years, not just for the victory, but for the love story that played out in the rain.

you and jake were the high school sweethearts everyone envied, the couple that defied the odds and found happiness in each other.

as you walked off the field hand in hand, you knew that this was only the beginning of your story together.

the days following the game were celebrated with school spirit.

everywhere you went, people congratulated you and jake. the story of your kiss in the rain had spread like wildfire, turning you both into the most talked-about couple in school- and even reaching other schools.

despite the newfound attention on you, jake never wavered in his devotion to you. he held your hand proudly in the hallways, kissed you in front of everyone, and made sure you knew how much he loved you.

the girls who had once whispered cruel things behind your back now looked at you with a mix of envy and admiration.

a week after the game, you and jake found yourselves sitting on the bleachers after school. the field was empty, the stands quiet— a noticeable contrast to the noise and excitement of game night.

jake had his arm around you, and you leaned into him, savoring the peaceful moment.

“do you ever think about the future?” jake asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

you looked up at him, his face serious but his eyes filled with warmth. “all the time,” you replied.

“what do you see?” you say with a gentle grin.

he smiled, a soft, almost wistful smile. “i see us, together. graduating, going to college, living our lives... getting married, i can’t imagine any of it without you.”

your heart swelled with the emotion of pure love.

“i see the same thing,” you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

jake leaned down, kissing you gently. “we’re it for each other, you know? no matter what anyone says to you, you’re it for me.”

you nodded before cupping jake’s face and kissing him softly, as the sunset had faded into a dark field illuminated with the stadium lights,

you knew with your whole heart that jake was it for you as well, even though you two were complete opposites.

© won4kiss 2024

taglist open <3 @luvlyhee @sjyunnsworld @shawnyle

send an ask or lmk in the comments if u wanna be added !! <3

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: First Times

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: they know you’re their mom … you know they’re your kids … but these are the first times you all say so out loud

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Champion of the World

The roar of the engines has faded, the race has ended, and the stands are filled with jubilant cheers. Among the sea of fans waving flags, the color of the Orange Army is predominant. Max Verstappen has just clinched his first World Championship.

As confetti rains down, Max climbs atop his car, soaking in the euphoria. His face displays a myriad of emotions: triumph … relief … elation. During the celebratory chaos, he searches for a familiar face, and as his eyes find yours, a calm settles over him.

As you approach, he jumps down and without a moment’s hesitation pulls you into a tight embrace. Over the din, he murmurs something almost inaudible.

“Thanks, Mom.”

You pull back, a bit taken aback. The weight of the single word isn’t lost on either of you. Max, ever the tough racer, has tears glistening in his eyes.

He clears his throat, trying to mask the emotion, “I mean, after everything, you’ve been like a second mom to me. I couldn’t have done it without your support.”

Sebastian joins the moment, a proud smile on his face. “Welcome to the champions’ club,” he jokes but the underlying pride in his voice is unmistakable.

You wipe away a tear, “I’ve always believed in you, Max. And no matter what, you’ll always be one of my grid kids.”

Charles Leclerc: What If

The race is intense, the energy palpable. But in a split second, the exhilaration turns to horror as Charles’ car careens off track, crashing into the barriers. The scene is chilling and the paddock holds its collective breath.

Time seems to stretch endlessly until, finally, the screens show Charles moving inside his cockpit. It's a sign — he's conscious. When he is carefully extricated from the wreckage and gives a thumbs-up to the cameras, relief washes over everyone.

As he is taken to the medical center, your grid kids gather, their usual playful banter replaced by anxious glances and silent support.

When you’re finally allowed to see Charles, his face is pale, eyes reflecting the trauma of the crash. Despite the bandages and evident pain, he manages a small smile upon seeing you.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

You lean over, brushing the hair from his forehead, your touch filled with motherly concern. “Hey yourself. You gave us all quite the scare.”

He swallows hard, gaze locking onto yours, vulnerability evident. “I thought ... for a moment there ... I thought I wouldn’t ...” he trails off, the gravity of the incident heavy in the room.

You take his hand, offering comfort and strength. “But you’re here, Charles. You’re here.”

He nods, tears forming. And then, in a voice filled with raw emotion, he murmurs, “Thank you, Mom.”

The title that slips out isn’t one of blood or birth but of bond and heart.

You squeeze his hand, “Always, Charles. Always.”

Lance Stroll: Who Needs Wrists Anyway?

After Sebastian’s retirement, life quiets down somewhat. The raucous race weekends are replaced with peaceful moments gardening and beekeeping. But the bond with your grid kids remains as strong as ever.

One evening, a call disturbs the calm. Lance had taken a hard fall while biking and had broken both his wrists. The news shakes you, memories of crashes flooding back. Without hesitation, you pack a bag and book the next flight out to be by his side.

When you enter Lance’s room, you're struck by the sight before you. Both his hands are in casts, his usually playful eyes clouded with pain and frustration. However, seeing you brings a faint smile to his face.

“You didn’t have to come,” he starts, though the gratefulness in his tone betrays him.

You chuckle, pulling a chair beside his bed, “How could I not? I can’t let you starve or wear the same clothes for weeks.”

Lance laughs, “Well, there’s always the option of going commando.”

You both chat, the room filled with light-hearted banter in an attempt to lift the mood. As you prepare to leave for the night after ensuring he is comfortable and has everything he needs, Lance’s voice halts you.

“You know,” he starts, hesitating, “Even after Seb retired, you still ... you’re still here for us, for me. It means a lot.”

You turn back, smiling gently. “Once a family, always a family.”

He swallows, emotion causing his voice to waver, “Thanks, Mom.”

You reach out to squeeze his arm in comfort but remember the reason for your visit. Pulling back before you could hurt Lance, you say, “Get some rest. We’ve got a lot of healing to do.”

George Russell: King of PowerPoint

The rookies sit in the dim room, fidgeting in their chairs, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. They’re about to receive their initiation presentation by none other than George Russell, now the Director of the GPDA — an annual tradition to welcome the new drivers, give them insights into the world of F1, and ensure they understand the guidelines, all while keeping it light and enjoyable. It’s also an excuse to give a PowerPoint … and George never turns down an opportunity to put his prowess to good use.

George steps up to the podium, clicking the remote to begin his presentation. The slides cover everything from safety protocols to media interactions. But then, a slide pops up with a familiar face on the screen: yours.

The title reads: “The Heart of Our F1 Family”

George pauses, taking a deep breath. “Now, for those of you new to Formula 1, there’s someone you need to know, someone who has been instrumental for many of us drivers, both on and off the track.”

He clicks to the next slide, showcasing a larger image of you, radiant in the middle of a race weekend while giving one of your famous pep talks to the grid kids.

“This,” George says, voice filled with warmth, “is Y/N Vettel. To the world, she’s known for her contributions to the sport, her philanthropy, and so much more. But to many of us drivers,” he glances at the familiar faces of the other grid kids sitting at the back, “she’s known simply as Mom.”

There’s a hushed silence, the emotional weight of the moment evident.

“She’s our anchor, our guiding light, and sometimes,” George grins, “our stern disciplinarian. If you ever find yourselves needing advice or just someone to talk to, you know where to turn. Welcome to Formula 1!”

Lando Norris: Stream and Shout

Lando is live on Twitch, engaging with thousands upon thousands of fans from around the world while deeply engrossed in a racing simulation game — swerving, overtaking, and trying to claim the top spot. Along with the intense gaming, he’s also juggling questions from fans.

“Hey Lando, any tips for new racers?” one fan asks.

“Just keep training, mate. And don’t get disheartened by failures,” Lando replies, narrowly avoiding a virtual crash.

Another question pops up in the chat, “Who’s been your biggest supporter in F1?”

Lando doesn’t hesitate. “Well, there’s my team, my family, and of course,” he pauses as he navigates a tricky turn on his screen, “there’s Y/N. She is ... well, she’s like a mom to many of us on the grid. Actually,” he corrects himself with a grin, leaning closer to the mic, “She IS mom.”

Fans catch on quickly, and the chat floods with comments.

“Mom? That’s so sweet!”

“Tell us more about her!”

Lando chuckles, “She’s just ... amazing. Always there, always supportive. We’ve had our fair share of fun, chaos, and love. If you’re ever around the paddock, you’ll know. Y/N is magnetic in the best way.”

Mick Schumacher: Drunken Adoration

The end-of-season party is in full swing. It is a tradition where everyone lets loose by either celebrating their successes or shrugging off the stress of the competitive year. The atmosphere is electric with loud music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.

Mick has perhaps indulged a bit too much. His usually composed and calm demeanor is replaced with a giddy, slightly wobbly version of himself.

As you navigate through the crowd, ensuring everyone was having a good time and not getting into too much trouble, you find Mick seated at the bar, a glass of something strong in his hand.

“Hey!” you call out, approaching him, “Having fun?”

Mick turns, his eyes slightly glazed but recognizing you instantly. A wide smile spreads across his face, “Hey! You know, you’re really awesome.” He slurs, the alcohol evident in his speech.

Laughing, you reply, “Thanks, Mick. Maybe we should switch to water now?”

He shakes his head, trying to focus. “No, no, you don’t get it. You’re not just awesome. You’re ... you’re like ... my mom. Like, a second mom. But also the first because you’re always there and ... you get it, right?”

You chuckle, moved by his inebriated but sincere confession. “I get it, Mick. And thank you. That means a lot.”

Helping him off the stool, you decide it’s time to get him some coffee and maybe a sandwich. “Come on, let’s sober you up a bit.”

As you lead him away, Mick continues to mumble about how great you are, his drunken words filled with genuine affection.

The party continues but for you, that heartfelt albeit tipsy confession is the highlight of the evening.

You: Sons and Spotlights

It’s a grand evening and the room glistens with opulence. Influential personalities from various fields gather, all in the name of charity and giving back. The annual International Philanthropy Awards Gala is an event where the most generous hearts are recognized, and this year, you’re among the honorees.

As you take the stage to accept the award for your contributions to various charities, the spotlight shines brightly but among the crowd, you spot familiar faces — Charles, Max, Lando, Mick, George, and Lance sitting next to your husband. Their presence is unexpected but deeply touching

You begin your speech, gratitude evident in every word, “Giving back is a principle I have always lived by. We are blessed in so many ways and it’s our duty to share those blessings with others.” As you continue, mentioning the various charities and initiatives you work with, an overwhelming wave of emotion grips you.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you glance once more at your grid kids and say, “I have had many titles over the years — friend, daughter, wife — but one that has been among the most precious to me is simply being Mom.”

The room seems to hold its collective breath.

“These young men,” you continue, gesturing towards them, “are my sons in every way that matters. Not by birth but by bond. Charles, Max, George, Lando, Mick, and Lance are my source of strength, joy, and sometimes, a bit of frustration,” you add with a twinkle in your eye, causing a ripple of laughter.

“But more than anything, they are my family. And tonight, in this room filled with so many esteemed individuals, I want to take a moment to thank my sons. For their love, for their constant support, and for making me the best possible version of myself.”

As applause fills the room, your grid kids stand, pride evident in their glassy eyes that mirror your own, joining the crowd in honoring you. They might be champions on the track, but off it, they are just sons, celebrating their mom.

Bonus: A Family Holiday

Mother’s Day arrives and you wake to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers on your doorstep accompanied by a heartfelt note that reads:

For the woman who has been a mother to us all.

Touched by the gesture, you make your way to the living room. As you enter, warm smiles greet you and the scent of a homemade breakfast wafts through the air.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” your grid kids chorus, raising their glasses.

Max grins, “We know you’re not our biological mom but you’ve definitely earned the title.”

Charles, holding a tray with a stack of pancakes, adds, “We couldn’t ask for a better mentor and friend.”

Lance, with a card in hand, steps forward, “And we wanted to show our appreciation.”

You take the card, and as you read, your heart swells. It’s filled with their personal messages, anecdotes, and memories — marking the journey you’ve all shared.

George, holds out a gift bag with a sheepish grin, “We thought you might like this.”

Inside the bag is a beautiful necklace with six interconnected rings, each representing one of your grid kids. It symbolizes the bond you share, a connection as unbreakable as those rings.

Tears well up in your eyes, “This ... this is so thoughtful.”

Mick smiles softly, “You’ve always been there, through everything. This is just a small token of our gratitude.”

You pull them all into a group hug, the love and warmth radiating through the room. “Thank you, my sons. This means the world to me.”

And as you all sit down to enjoy the homemade (only slightly charred) breakfast, the simple yet emotional celebration of Mother's Day reminds you that family isn’t just about blood ties. It’s about the connections forged through shared experiences, tireless support, and love that transcends convention.

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[sweetbans29]

Bowling - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Date night with Caitlin - headcanon (based on THIS request)

Warnings: nothing, fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am a huge fan of bowling. Am I good? No. I used to go weekly with friends and had gotten progressively worse.

You told Caitlin you wanted to go out for a date night but wanted to do something normal. Caitlin, of course, was completely on board and said she loves normal. You laughed at her and know the two of you have a different idea of normal. Your idea of normal was going out and having a fun night with your girl - maybe some sort of activity like bowling or an escape room. On the other side of that, your girlfriend is the single most competitive person you know. Sometimes not to her advantage. She hates to lose. And you don't blame her but she takes it to a whole other level. You thought it would be different with you, but you were very wrong.

"Okay, you owe...$320," you say and you hear her puff. "No way in hell do I owe that much," she says as her blood begins to boil. "Do you think I am lying?" You say with a laugh, you pass her the property card and point out the hotel cost. "I own this property and it had a hotel on it, therefore it is $320. Pay up, babe!" She reluctantly hands you the fake money and she rolls the dice again, landing on doubles again. She moves her piece the number of spaces and lets out another angry groan when she lands on another spot of yours. You tell how much she owes you but she refuses. "If you refuse - that means you forfeit and therefore lose," you tell her and she gets up. "This is stupid," she says and walks away from the table. "Hey, you are the one that chose the game - I am just playing it with you. It is not my fault that you don't know how to play Monopoly," you call out to her. She mutters a string of profanities and waves you off. You packed up the game and went to find your girl. She was lying in bed with a replay of a game on the TV. You come over and poke at her leg. She moves it away from you. "Babe, come on," you say and sit facing her. She doesn't say anything and keeps her attention on the game. Sighing, you move to sit next to her and try to cuddle into her side. She doesn't initially move as you wrap your arm around her waist and put your head on her shoulder. It was only when you began to fall asleep that you felt Caitlin's arm shift, bringing you to her side and rub your back. You know she isn't mad at you and you learned how her drive to win wasn't only on the court - it was in all areas of life.

You knew when you told Caitlin that you wanted to go out and do something that it would have to be something that she was decent at. So when you suggested either bowling or an escape room, she chose bowling.

It was a Thursday night and the two of you had just gotten to the bowling alley. You both got your shoes and headed to your lane, grabbing your choice of ball on the way.

You finish putting your shoes on and look over at your girl. "Ready love?" You ask and give her a hug. She kisses the top of your head. "You'll still love me regardless of how this game goes, right?" You ask in a joking manner. "Mmmhmm," she responds but you are not satisfied with her answer. You pull away and look at her. "Caitlin, you will love me regardless of who wins, correct?" You are looking her dead in the eye now as you wait for her response. "Of course, babe. Of course," she says as she leans down to give you a kiss. You turn your head so she kisses your cheek instead of you lips. "Good, because you are going down." You say sweetly and begin your turn.

The two of you took every frame like it was the championship game. You had made your tone clear that this wasn't going to be a friendly game but rather a full-blown competition - completely abandoning your initial stance of a 'normal' date. You knew that any time the two of you did something competitive it would never be normal. The game is neck and neck.

You step up, ball in hand. It is the last frame and Caitlin is up by 13. She got a spare in the final frame putting her comfortably in the lead. You would need to do the same to put yourself within winning distance. "Don't mess up," your girlfriend says in a teasing tone. You know she is nervous when she tries to get in your head. You take a deep breath and bowl. You get a strike. A smile dawning your face before as you walk to grab another ball to finish the game off. You finish off the frame, beating Caitlin by 4. You walk over to shake her hand but she just sits there with her arms crossed. "Babe, you did good - that was the best game either of us have bowled." You tell her as you squat in front of her, putting your hands on her crossed arms. She rolls her eyes and lets out a cute little huff. "Come on - there is still time for you to beat me in the arcade," you say and she stands. She begins walking to the arcade area but not before grabbing your hand to make sure you are with her.

Before you get too far you bring her back to change your shoes out. She was so focused on going to the arcade that she forgot she was still wearing her bowling shoes.

Once you both return the shoes, Caitlin and you walk hand in hand to the arcade games. As focused as she is on winning - she makes sure you are next to her.

You follow her around and play all the games that Caitlin wants. You don't take it easy on her but you do let her take the lead every now and again. You love winning but you love your girl more.

She ends up winning more tickets than you and is happy with her win. The two of you head over to the prize counter and she chooses a Nerf basketball while you choose candy and a little plastic dino.

When the two of you get home, you lounge on the couch. She turns on some game highlights and you curl up next to her. "I love you, but we should never do anything that involves a winner and a loser for a date ever again," you say. She lets out a little laugh and rubs your shoulder. "I think we can - we just need it to be on a group date and we need to be on the same team," she says and kisses the top of your head. "Ooo I like the way you think, I can call Lexi and her boyfriend - maybe we can go on a double date next weekend," you say scrolling through your phone. Caitlin laughs and brings you closer to her. "Whatever you want, babe," Caitlin says.

AN: I can't imagine Caitlin not being competitive but let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[cllightning81]

Favour

Summary : You need help during a race weekend and after asking everyone you could, Liam suggests you ask Max an old friend

Pairing/s: Max Fewtrell x Engineer!Single Mum!Reader, Paul Aron x Engineer!Reader (Platonic)

Appearances : Bryan Bozzi, Liam Lawson, Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Oliver Oakes

Warning/s : Mention of death

Word Count : 5.3k

Masterlist

Max Fewtrell Masterlist

Tag List

Being a race engineer was hard enough as it is, but being a race engineer with a little baby was even harder. Normally, you were able to find someone within Hitech to watch your baby girl -Aurora- but this week everyone was a little bit more busy than normal 

“You know if I wasn’t racing I’d watch Rory” Paul smiled, waving his hands at the baby in your arms 

“I know you would, Paul, but we’re on pole today, and we’re going to convert it to a win” You smiled, rubbing his shoulder 

“I want to top the championship again” You nodded with a proud smile 

“We’re going to get you there” You nodded, placing Rory down on the office floor. Going over the data from last year and the last race with Paul was not as easy as it looked because he was always getting distracted by the smallest things, including Rory, who was playing with her toys. 

It was an hour later when you were walking through the F1 paddock to meet up with Bryan, who you were helping slightly with his new role within Ferrari. Sat in the Ferrari meeting room with Rory in a sling as you talked Bryan through some basic information he’d need to know for this race about the race engineering side of things. 

“You don’t fancy babysitting, do you?” You asked Bryan as you walked out of the Ferrari garage 

“Sorry I’ve still got my performance coach jobs to do” You nodded 

“Was worth a shot anyway” You sighed 

“Hey Y/N” Liam smiled instantly, going to play with Rory like the biggest child he was. 

“Hey there, sweets. Hey, what are you saying today, hmm?” Liam asked Aurora 

“She’s asking if her favourite non-biological uncle wants to babysit her?” You asked with a smile

“Sorry Y/N/N VCARBS got me on standby cause Yuki isn’t feeling the best after his crash yesterday” You sighed with a nod 

“Well good luck if that happens” You smiled, rubbing his shoulder. Liam was your first driver when you joined Hitech, but at that point, you were still on probation and starting to learn everything. 

“Max is in the Mclaren garage though” He shrugged, and you smiled 

“Liam Lawson, you are the best. I really hope you get that seat, but I’ll keep the rest of my opinions to myself” You hugged him as he said bye to Aurora. Walking back to the F2 paddock, you searched out the old phone number you hadn’t used in a very long time. 

You and Max used to be close because he was good friends with Liam and used to hang around the Hitech garage and being the same age it was easy to get along with him. 

You sat Aurora down on a play mat in the meeting room as you sat to work on quick information before qualifying for the day. Paul walked in a couple of minutes later, sitting down opposite you with his elbows on the table and head resting on his hands 

“Hello there, Mr Aron” You looked at him, and he smiled 

“There’s a guy here to see you” He smirked, and you frowned 

“A guy? Does this guy have a name?” You asked, glancing at Aurora to make sure she’s okay. 

“Max. That’s all he said, but it’s Norris’ friend Max. I can’t remember his last name” He shrugged, getting up and walking out

“Paul” you called, and he stuck his head in through the door 

“Tell him where I am? He knows his way about” You asked with a polite smile 

“Only cause I’ve got to listen to you” You chuckled, turning back to the data finishing up the report you were writing for Paul. There was a knock on the door, and you turned to look at it. A smile grew on your face as you spotted Max waving him in as Aurora waved her hands at the new figure. 

“Hey stranger” He smiled, and you chuckled a little 

“I’m not the stranger. You’re the one that doesn’t visit” 

“Touche” Max nodded, and you motioned him to sit down, to which he sat down next to you 

“Still focused on data, I see” You nodded

“You know I’m a sucker for some good data” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“So how are you doing?” He asked 

“Stressed but happy, I guess” You shrugged 

“How about you? Saw you’ve gained quite a few followers on twitch” You smiled, and he nodded 

“Yeah. Taking a break from racing was really the thing that I needed, and I’m glad I did it” You smiled 

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing better” You nodded as Aurora clapped her hands. You looked down at her, picking her up 

“This little cutie, why you’re stressed?” He asked as Rory grabbed his finger 

“Yeah she’s also the massive favour I need” You bit your lip, and he nodded 

“Need a babysitter?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You’re totally free to say no. I know you’ve never actually met her in person and just seen pictures on instagram, but if you could, I would be so grateful and would pay you back however you wanted” You sighed 

“Can I?” He asked, holding his arms out, and you nodded, handing her over 

“She likes attention, so as long as she’s got that she’s the happiest baby ever” you explained, and he nodded 

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. I just know he would have been the greatest dad” You nodded with a sigh 

“She looks so much like him sometimes it hurts” Max placed a hand on your knee, gently caressing it 

“Sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up” You placed your hand on top of his gently, holding his hand 

“Do you need a babysitter all weekend?” You nodded 

“Unfortunately. I can normally find someone within the team or someone that I know, but unfortunately I’m not able to this weekend” Max nodded 

“Then I’ll watch her all weekend if you need” He smiled, and you hugged him 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” You smiled, letting out a breath 

“But I’m taking her to the Mclaren garage tomorrow” You chuckled 

“Forget about your own past then and go to your future” You joked, and he jokingly shoved you away 

“But honestly, whatever you want in return I’ll do it” You sat back, rubbing your face in relief 

“Go on a date with me” He whispered, and you looked at him

“What?” You asked 

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for years and now that you’re due me something in return I feel like now is the perfect time to ask” He hummed with a slight smirk hidden underneath a smile 

“Fine. On Sunday as payment” You nodded, and he smiled, looking at the wall 

“You need to get ready for qualifying. I’ll wait in here with this cutie” He smiled 

“Aurora or Rory. I think you probably already knew that though” Max nodded 

“I did. I follow you on instagram and check up on you every so often” You chuckled, getting up kissing Rory’s head 

“Thank you again, Max. If she needs her diaper changed there’s diapers in my office. Same place that it used to be. She’s been fed, so she’ll be fine until after qualifying. Any other worries, please just text me. Don’t even think about crossing the pit lane” Max nodded 

“Please don’t worry about her. I promise she’ll be okay in my care. Are you okay if I call LN over, though?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Yeah it’s fine” You smiled, grabbing your pass and walking out of the meeting room. You let out a breath, knowing that you could do your job without worrying about Rory. 

And that’s what you did. Paul had a good qualifying session for both the sprint and feature race. Once that was over, you quickly rushed back to the meeting room. Max was sitting on the floor with Rory, who was giggling at him as she pulled on his beard. You chuckled, sitting down at the desk as Max looked up at you 

“She’s a little cutie, but she’s also a trouble child” You nodded with a laugh 

“Did I forget to mention that part?” You joked 

“Do you need me to stay until after the debrief?” Max asked 

“That would be really helpful, but I’m not sure that’s allowed” you replied, and he nodded 

“What if I take her for a walk? Is she due a nap?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Actually that would be really helpful. If I put her in the pram, would you be okay with taking her for a walk?” You asked 

“I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t okay. I can walk her over to the F1 paddock, and you can get her from there when you’re done for the day” He suggested 

“Thank you again, Max. I really appreciate this just being sprung on you after us not talking for ages”

“For this little troublesome cutie I’d do it more often if you needed” You chuckled 

“Trust me, you won’t be saying that by Sunday night” You smiled, grabbing her pram from the side of the room before building it and putting her in it. You gave her her binkie before turning to Max. 

“Okay she should be good until I’m finished for the day” You smiled, and he nodded, walking with her just as everyone started filling the room. After debriefing, you packed up Rory’s toys and your own stuff before walking over to the F1 paddock and over to the Mclaren garage. 

“Hey Y/N” Oscar smiled, standing at his car 

“Hey Oscar. Have you seen Max?” You asked, and he pointed towards Lando’s side of the garage

“Thanks” You walked over and into the garage, smiling at the mechanics that you knew 

“There she is” Max smiled gently, rocking the pram 

“Hey babysitting, looking good on you” you joked, looking into the pram

“She makes it easy” You laughed as he let you take the pram 

“Thank you again. I’ll text you later with my meeting times and all that kind of thing” Max nodded 

“See you tomorrow” You walked out of the Mclaren garage, ready for the best sleep of your week. 

When the next day rolled around and you were walking into the F2 paddock, you knew that Rory was going to be in safe hands and that you just had to be ready for the race ahead. 

Max was standing outside the Hitech garage leaning against one of the walls, talking to one of the mechanics he knew as Rory played with our hands strapped to your chest 

“Hey Y/N” Max smiled as you walked over 

“Hey there, Mr Babysitter” you joked

“Is the nugget ready for her big day with lots of affection?” Max asked, and you nodded 

“She sure is, but I’m gonna keep her for the morning if that’s okay” Max nodded 

“Of course it is. Want me there?” He asked 

“If you don’t mind sitting on the floor with her again” Max shook his head 

“Would be my pleasure” You smiled, leading him inside and to the meeting room that was going to be used for the day. Setting up Rory’s stuff on the floor before setting her on the floor beside Max 

“Thank you again Max” You smiled, and he nodded. Sitting down to do morning brief, Paul walked in, instantly going over to Aurora

“Hey maiustus (sweets)” Paul smiled, squishing her cheeks

“Paul please sit down, the whole team is just waiting on you” You complained and he sat down going over yesterday’s data and things that had to be done today to get a good finish in the sprint. 

Once all the other members of the team had finally left, you turned around to Rory. Paul was still sitting next to you as he scrolled through his phone, definitely avoiding his trainer but not wanting to admit it. Rory reached her arms up with a giggle as you picked her up 

“Hey little troublemaker” You kissed her head as you got up from the seat, Max, stretching his back as you chuckled at him 

“I know I said she needs attention to be happy, but you don’t have to sit on the floor with her” You smiled as he got up 

“Easier to get down to her level rather than bring her up to mine” He shrugged 

“She likes sitting on the table” you shrugged, closing the meeting room door and pulling the blinds down so that no one could see in as you heard Paul whine 

“Thought you were hiding me, but I just saw the time” You laughed, ruffling his hair as you sat down again 

“You really need to go start your warm up and do media though Paul” You sighed, feeding Rory as Paul groaned, getting up 

“Only cause I wanna win” You laughed as Max stood awkwardly 

“You can sit Fewtrell” You chuckled at his face. Poor guy was uncomfortable even being in the same room as you fed Aurora. 

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable” He frowned, and you shrugged 

“I’ve been doing this for the past four months with strangers. We’re not strangers. Therefore, I don’t care” you replied, looking up at him as he sat down. 

A little while later, Aurora was finished feeding, burped, and had her diaper changed before you handed her over to Max for the day who was taking her over to the Mclaren motorhome. You explained where everything in her bag was kept along with how to warm some milk up in case she needed it. Max assured you multiple times that she would be okay and that you could just come to the Mclaren garage to get her at the end of the day. 

Throughout the day, Max was subject to some teasing from Lando about his babysitting as Lando knew about his crush on you and had for many years. 

Once the race and debrief were done, you were finally able to leave the F2 paddock with Paul trailing behind you because he didn’t want to be alone again. In reality, he was hiding from the ice bath he was meant to be in, but he’d never admit that to anyone. 

“Hey Y/L/N” Andrea Stella smiled as you walked over to the Mclaren garage 

“Hey. I’m looking for Lando. Well I’m assuming he’s with Lando” You shrugged 

“Oh he’s in the hospitality with Max and a random child?” He frowned, and you nodded 

“Perfect. That’s my second born” you joked, nudging your head in Paul’s direction. Andrea laughed 

“I’m on three or so now” He joked, and you laughed 

“They learn to listen any better any time?” You asked, and he shook his head with a laugh 

“No. Never” You laughed, shaking your head 

“Damn it. Well I’m gonna find my baby and her newest babysitters” You walked off to the Mclaren hospitality with Paul trailing behind you, scrolling through his phone. You walked inside, looking about as Paul instantly walked over to Rory, picking her up off the table. You followed him over, rolling your eyes as Paul picked up his role with Rory. 

At this point, Paul was like Rory’s big brother, and there was nothing you could do to stop how much he actually loved your little girl. You took another picture as you leaned against the chair Max was sitting in, smiling at Lando, and Oscar was sitting opposite him. 

“Hey. Looked like a good race” Max smiled up at you as you nodded 

“Hey. It was a very good race considering the pit stop errors” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“How was Aurora?” You asked him, looking over at Paul and Aurora

“Think I’ve got a bald spot in my beard now. However, apart from that, she was an angel” Max shrugged, showing you a picture of Rory sitting in Lando’s car. You chuckled 

“If she looked tiny in the F2 cars, she looked even smaller in that F1 car” You chuckled, and he laughed 

“You in a rush out of here?” Max asked, and you shook your head 

“Nope. I do need to stop by and see Liam, though. Wish him luck for tomorrow” You shrugged, and Max pulled out the seat next to him, and you sat down

“Still wouldn’t move up to F1?” Oscar asked, and you looked over at Rory and Paul, who were sat on the floor 

“I think if Paul was to move up, then I would, but only with Paul, he actually listens to me” You glared at Max, who shrugged 

“I wasn’t your driver. I was just there to annoy you” Max shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Over the next half an hour, you spoke with Lando, Max, and Oscar, but Lando and Oscar soon had to go get ready for qualifying, so it was just you and Max. Paul was rocking Aurora to sleep as you watched him with a tilt of your head. 

“I keep losing my daughter to my driver” You chuckled, getting up

“Same time tomorrow?” Max asked, and you nodded

“Only if you’re still okay with looking after her for another day” You rested a hand on the back of his seat. Max was doing you a favour, and you didn’t want to push him to do something he wasn’t completely comfortable with. 

“Yeah, of course I’m okay with it. Actually I’m more than okay with it because I get something out of this as well” He smiled looking up at you to the outside world it looked like he was deadly in love but to yourself it just looked like Max was happy.

Sunday was always a busy day. However, this weekend just felt like it was an even busier day. Sat in your office, Aurora sat in her pram asleep as you sat with your headphones in going over some basic work you didn’t hear Max come in. 

He stood next to you, gently pushing a piece of hair out of your face as you sat back in your seat, looking up at him when you felt his presence standing next to you. You smiled up to him, taking your headphones off 

“Morning” He smiled, taking the pen out of your hand and placing it down on the table 

“Hey. Didn’t hear you come in” You hummed, looking up at him after following his actions with the pen 

“That’s because you were so caught up in your work that you didn’t hear anything, including Paul” You frowned, looking at the time. You hadn’t missed any meetings or events that you were due to be at. 

“It’s fine he just wanted to see if you wanted anything to eat” You nodded slightly 

“I had breakfast before coming here” You looked at the time again as Max sat down next to you 

“I’m gonna take Aurora a walk around the paddock then into Mclaren, and I was thinking that you could always come watch the F1 race with me from there?” He offered, and you nodded 

“I quite like the sound of that” You smiled, tilting your head slightly 

“And I was thinking about our date” He started, and you quickly interrupted him 

“Can we do it back home? My flight out of here is tonight, and I can’t get it changed unless I pay for it and after” You paused, glancing over at Rory 

“Let me worry about that. I’m the one that asked you out on the date, so I’ll worry about that” He smiled, gently resting his hand on top of yours. 

“So how’s the little darling today?” He asked, looking over at Aurora’s pram. 

“She’s quite sleepy today, so bonus for you, I guess. However, it's just because she’s starting to teeth, so she might get a little fussy or bite you” You shrugged, and he nodded, getting up just as Paul and his trainer walked in Paul was clearly in a mood about something as you raised your eyebrows. 

Max played with your hair as he stood behind you, and you couldn’t help but smile a little. He used to do that when Liam was your driver a few years ago. It’s like to this day even after limited contact, he still knew when you were hiding your stress 

“He won’t let me have a chocolate bagel” Paul huffed, throwing himself down on the chair Max was previously in as you looked at his trainer who shrugged 

“Too many carbs before a race. Especially when it’s half an hour away. I suggested alternatives, but that wasn’t good enough” The man just shrugged before turning and walking out the room, clearly not wanting to have this fight again

“Paul, we've been over this. You can’t come expecting me to solve your carb problem. I’ve already snuck you enough this weekend as it is. Why don’t you have a smoothie? I know you’re just bored, which is why you’re eating” Paul gave you a look as if you’d just suggested murdering his whole family. 

“You can get me and Max one while you’re there” you suggested, knowing that Paul would do anything for anyone else if offered the opportunity, so Paul got up and left the room again. You looked up at Max the top of your head resting against his stomach 

“I know I asked you on a date and agreed to babysit your child, but have I ever told you how good you look doing your job?” He asked, and you raised a brow thinking about it 

“I believe you may have back when I was a taken woman” You shrugged with a slight smirk 

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He asked as you tilted your head to the side a little, turning around to fully face him 

“Me? Never? That’s all Aurora, and she doesn’t even get it from me” you joked, and he laughed, looking down at you. You couldn’t help but smile up at him. 

“How long does it take for Paul to get some smoothies?” Max asked, and you shrugged

“No idea? In a rush to go somewhere?” You questioned, and he shook his head 

“No. Was just wondering” You nodded, turning back to the data, and he sighed, sitting down 

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” He questioned 

“Nope. I am not. I need to get this finished before the race starts” You sighed as he moved your hands away from the laptop and shut the lid, forcing you to look at him 

“If I was to kiss you right now, would it stop stressing out about the data?” He asked as your eyes widened

“What did you just ask?” You questioned 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. I didn’t mean to say that out loud” He panicked as you turned to fully face him, leaning forward in your seat 

You looked into his eyes, trying to see any kind of emotion behind them to make sure what he was saying was actually true. You got up out of your seat, taking his hand and giving him a slight pull-up as you did. Max stood up, standing in front of you 

“Sorry. I really didn’t mean to say that” You leaned up, pressing your lips against his with a slight smile. Max froze for a second before kissing you back. One hand resting on the small of your back as the other stayed in your own. 

“Ew” Paul groaned loudly before there were a couple of thuds and the door slamming. You pulled back, looking over Max’s shoulder to see Paul covering his eyes outside. You couldn’t help but laugh a little 

“I get a life for the moment, and that’s how he reacts” Max laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder as he rested his own on your head. You waved Paul in through the window as Max rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but laugh a little again as Paul walked back in carefully 

“Warning next time, come on. With Rora in here as well?!” He exclaimed. You rolled your eyes as he picked Aurora, shielding her face from who knows what. Only he’ll ever know because it’s not a question that you were planning on asking him anytime soon. 

“I got your normal and for Max, I just guessed” Paul pointed towards the smoothies on the table 

“Thank you. Now, will you please put Rory back down and go warm up. I promise you can cuddle her after the race. Promise” You smiled, and he nodded, placing her down and walking out as you sat back down, turning to look at Max 

“Well if Paul’s away getting ready, I guess I have to let you get ready” He smiled, looking into the pram at Aurora. 

“Same as yesterday, but I’ve left a bottle in her bag. You just need to warm it up a little bit” you explained, and he nodded slightly 

“How do I do that?” He asked, and you chuckled, walking over 

“So take the plastic cover off ,obviously, then just put it in the microwave for like thirty seconds but make sure that it’s lukewarm on the inside of your wrist” Max’s head quickly turned around at that and you rolled your eyes with a laugh 

“It’s just formula, Max. Don’t worry, I just pre-made it for you” Max nodded, picking up her blanket and placing it over the handle of the pram. 

“Okay. We should be okay. If need be, I can text you, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Of course you can. Oh, and in the diaper bag next to her bottle there’s a little something for you” You smiled, leaning into the pram and pressing a kiss to Aurora’s head. 

“We’ll be good,” Max nodded with some kind of fake courage. You smiled 

“Be good for Maxie hmm” You kissed the babies head before standing up again and taking the few steps over to Max, who smiled down at you as you rested your chin on his chest 

“Don’t worry. Go do your job. We’ll be watching, or I will. The little muffin will probably be sleeping” You grinned, standing up on your tiptoes just a little to kiss him. You grabbed your computer before walking out of your office and out to the garage. 

“Did you get my email?” Oliver asked, and you nodded 

“I did. Congratulations. You’ll do good in F1” You smiled, shaking his hand as a congratulations 

“Thank you. There will be an email coming your way soon, no doubt” You couldn’t help but frown at that as Oliver walked away. Getting everything set up for Paul’s race both in the garage and the pit wall before the pre race mechanical stuff happened while you just sat there waiting.

Max did keep sending you pictures throughout the race that you couldn’t help but smile at when the notification kept coming through. Paul’s race went brilliantly as good as it could possibly get as Paul won. After the podium, you got yourself changed out of the wet Hitech uniform as Paul decided to pour the last of the champagne over your head during the pictures.

 You packed up everything after the debrief and headed over to the Mclaren hospitality again. It currently felt like you were never away from that place. As you walked through the paddock, you couldn’t help but still wonder what Oliver meant by there will be an email for you soon. It really did worry you a bit. 

You smiled at the woman standing outside the hospitality before walking in and spotting Max sitting in the corner with Aurora asleep in his arms all cuddled up. You couldn’t help but smile as you sat down on the couch next to him 

“Oh how I wish I could fall asleep like that” You sighed, and he chuckled 

“She’s been out for about twenty minutes. I gave her her bottle and she just fell asleep” You nodded 

“Sounds about right” You smiled, looking down at her. Her cheek pressed against Max’s chest as her tiny hand held onto one of his fingers. You couldn’t help but take a picture as you watched them. 

“Race went really well” Max grinned as you looked at him 

“It went really well. I’m so proud” you beamed. Eyes flicking down to Aurora 

“Do you want me to take her? She’s okay if you want to put her down in the pram” You frowned, knowing how easy it is to get a dead arm while holding her 

“She’s okay. I’m actually enjoying the cuddles rather than her pulling my beard out” You chuckled, caressing her cheek. 

“You still want to stay to watch the race?” He asked, tilting his head so he could see you better

“Yeah that would be nice” You grinned, getting more comfortable on the couch, knowing that Max wasn’t planning on moving to watch the race by the way he was sitting. Max smiled down at you, looking at your emails 

“Oliver said there’d be an email coming my way soon. Now I can’t stop looking at my emails” You sighed 

“Oliver Oakes?” Max questioned, and you nodded 

“Any idea what it was about?” Max asked, and you shook your head 

“Honestly, I have no idea. As long as I’m not being fired” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“I’d comfort you, but your daughter has stolen both my hands” You laughed 

“There’s worse ways for you to have your hands stolen” you replied 

“Guess that’s true” He smiled 

You sat for the next two hours with Max in the Mclaren hospitality watching the Formula One race. It was an experience you’d never actually forget. Not even just because you were sitting in the F1 paddock but because Max’s reactions to something so tiny were so large. 

As you were walking out the paddock with Aurora in her pram, Max walked next to you while Lando and Oscar trailed behind Max, turned his head to look at you

“I sent you an email during the race with the details for our date and for after it” You frowned 

“After it?” You asked, and he nodded 

“Got you on the flight with Lando and I so you could spend another night here” He explained 

“You didn’t have to do that” you replied 

“I know I didn’t have to, but I saw the perfect place for a date here. Couldn’t let it go to waste” He smiled

Coming Soon

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[roosterforme]

You Can Handle It | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When your husband dominates on the pitchers mound in his recreational league game, you're a little bit turned on. But when you get him alone in the dugout, you realize that having your big, sweaty pitcher all to yourself might just be your fantasy.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut, role-play, sweaty sex and blowjob

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

You were on the edge of your seat on the bleachers at the ballpark near the naval base. Bradley was pitching for the Navy Waves, and they were about to win against the team of Marines that came in undefeated. Until now. 

The sun was setting, and the stadium lights were buzzing to life. It was hot out, but Everett was on your lap anyway, and you were cheering so loudly you thought you might lose your voice. You were both wearing your matching BRADSHAW shirts and hoping for a win. "Come on, Bradley! You can do it two more times!"

Everett cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Let's go, Dad!"

And when you turned to look at Molly, she was bouncing Charlie on one knee and staring intently at the game and Bob in the outfield. "Holy hell, the Marines are undefeated," she said, gasping as Bradley threw another strike. 

"Not for long!" you and Everett said in unison. Bradley just needed to get this batter out and then one more. And then the Navy Waves would be the only team in the rec league with a perfect record. 

When the catcher threw the ball back to Bradley, he held it in his glove and removed his hat. He turned to look in your direction as he wiped his forehead with his forearm. You could tell he was exhausted. He looked like he only had a few pitches left in him after nine innings, but he still smiled at all four of you. 

"I know you can do it, Coach!" you shouted, and he nodded before turning back toward home plate. 

"He's gonna do it," Molly said softly. And then you watched your husband strike out the batter. 

You and Everett were on your feet and cheering as another Marine came up to bat. This could be the last one. Bradley just needed to control his pitches. He was so proud of you now that you could tell apart his slider, fastball and curveball, and you watched him wind up and throw his signature slider. You gasped as the bat made solid contact with the ball, sending it up high in the air. 

"Come on, Bob!" Molly shouted as the ball seemed to hang out in the air deep over the outfield before falling down into Bob's glove. And then the game was over. The Navy Waves had won. 

You, Molly and Everett all screamed while you covered Charlie's ears. They would get to go on to play the championship game in two weeks, and you would get to cheer them on in your BRADSHAW and FLOYD shirts. 

Everyone in the Waves uniforms crowded Bradley on the pitcher's mound, and the other team of disgruntled players all walked back to their dugout and started packing their equipment. "Can I go down yet?" Everett asked, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

"Yeah. Go ahead." You watched your son take off down the steps and walk through the opening in the fence. And as soon as he started running across the infield, Bradley broke free from his teammates and went to pick him up in a big hug that had your heart melting. 

Molly nudged you in the side, and you smiled at her. "Why don't you let us take Ev home for the night. It's Saturday, and he can play with Charlie tomorrow morning."

"Really?" you asked, stroking Charlie's cheek with your thumb while he sucked on his pacifier. 

"Yeah, Ev loves playing with Charlie, and it will give me a little break, too. Besides, I can tell you want to do some nasty shit with my turd-in-law," she said with a grimace.

You bit your lip and said, "Thanks. Ev will love this idea. And so do I."

"Honestly," Molly huffed, "he makes it hard for me to be mean to him sometimes." She nodded toward Bradley where he had Everett sitting on his shoulders on the pitcher's mound. Your son seemed happier with each passing day that Bradley was in your lives. 

The players were starting to disperse now, and Bob was headed your way with his bag as you passed him on the stairs. "Nice catch," you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

He blushed and thanked you, and you watched him wrap Molly and their son up in a hug before you headed down onto the field. Bradley's hat was on backwards now, and while he still looked worn out from the long game, he was smiling as you got closer. 

"Nice job, Coach," you said as you pressed your hand to his sweaty jersey, and he leaned in to kiss you while Everett ran around. With a soft grunt, you felt your husband's hands wrap around your waist. The overhead lights were bright, and his body was arm, and everything felt right. 

"Did it for you. And Ev," he whispered, his mustache brushing your skin. 

"We love you. You're the best," you replied, rubbing yourself against the front of him. When your hand skimmed his white baseball pants, you felt hard plastic.

Bradley chuckled and said, "That's just my athletic cup, Kitten. But if you want me hard for you later, I'm sure that can be arranged."

You glanced over your shoulder and saw most of the rest of the players and coaches had cleared out. "Hey, Ev," you called out to your son. "Do you want to have a sleepover with Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob?"

His eyes lit up. "Can I play with Charlie and help feed him breakfast in the morning?" he asked. 

When you nodded he ran over to hug you and Bradley before racing off to Molly who then shouted down, "Have fun. But don't tell me anything about it later."

"What does that mean?" Bradley asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. He smelled like fresh sweat and his deodorant. The strands of hair that peaked out from his cap were damp, and you absolutely did not want to wait until you got him home. 

You unbuttoned the top of his jersey and pressed your nose against his chest hair. "Do you know when the stadium lights turn off for the night?" you asked before pressing a kiss to his chest. 

"I think they're on a timer," he rasped as you unzipped his pants. And then the most wonderful thing happened. The bright lights started to dim as the bulbs shut off, and you grinned up at him. He still looked a little puzzled as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his jockstrap. "You remember your ballfield fantasy that you told me about?"

His eyes lit up as the lights got dimmer. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

Bradley tipped his head back and groaned. "The sexy bat girl gives me head in the dugout?"

"Only if you want it."

You screeched as Bradley picked you up and hauled you off the field like it was on fire. "Oh, I fucking want it, Kitten," he growled, setting you down next to the bench where it was dark. The last few cars were pulling out of the lot, and you could see their headlights reflecting on the concrete wall at the back of the dugout. But it was quiet and covered and Bradley smelled so good as he caged you in against the wall, pressing his hands to the cool concrete on either side of your head.

"That was a really good game," you said softly, tugging him closer by the open fly of his snug pants. 

"Yeah? You liked that?" he grunted.

"Mmhmm," you moaned. "All the bat girls think you're the best and hottest player on the team. I wish I could wear your name on the back of my shirt." 

Bradley smirked as you braced your hands on his biceps and licked a long stripe up his neck and along his jaw. You could feel his stubble and taste the salt of his drying sweat, and you had to squeeze your thighs together against your arousal. 

"I have an idea," he whispered, pressing his lips to yours briefly. "How about you take that sweet tongue a little further south. You suck my cock just right, and I'll let you wear Bradshaw on your back as much as you want, Baby."

You were tight up against the wall, but you instantly dropped to your knees for him. It was really getting dark now, but you could still clearly see the dirt stains on his pants as you pulled them down a little further. You kissed along his thigh and licked at his coarse hairs peeking out from his jockstrap. He was sweaty. So sweaty. And he tasted delicious. He smelled even better. You moaned so loudly as your fingers wrapped around the elastic and pulled down until you could remove the athletic cup that was being held in place. 

He was already semi hard, and you looked up at him as the plastic cup clattered to the dugout floor next to you. "You're massive."

"You can handle it. I've been watching you handle bats all day. You know what you're doing." Bradley's voice was deep and dark, and you whimpered as you tugged his damp jockstrap further down his thighs. 

"I can handle it." Then you pressed your lips to his tip and coated them up with his sweat and precum. "God, you taste so good." You didn't even have to pretend. You felt slightly crazed as you kitten licked him before sucking on the tip. Salty and musky and sweet and sweaty. When you popped him out of your mouth, you wrapped your hands around his hips and pulled him closer. 

"Jesus," he groaned as you licked his balls clean of that salty taste you were craving now. You sucked on his balls and licked him everywhere. "Oh, you're something else."

"Bradley," you whined between licking long, steady stripes up to his bellybutton. "You taste amazing." Then you wrapped one hand around the base of his cock before you took his length deep, gagging as he hit the back of your throat.

"Holy hell!" he moaned, bucking gently and gripping the back of your neck with one hand. You could feel his hairs tickling your nose, and you inhaled as he withdrew. "Let me fuck your pretty face?"

You just nodded and moaned, and you tried to say yes as he filled you up with his cock over and over again. But tears started stinging your eyes, because you just wanted more. You licked him clean and sucked on him until he was cursing nonstop under his breath. With shallow thrusts, you felt him start pulsing against your tongue. When you gently squeezed his balls, you felt that he was tight and getting close. 

He jerked his hips back and you gasped, missing the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue. "Come here," he whispered, voice harsh as he hauled you to your feet and pressed you back against the wall. Then he devoured your mouth, his hands a little rough at the back of your neck and your waist as he started to yank down your leggings. "Let me cum in your pussy?"

"Yes," you gasped, and he spun you so you were facing the wall, bracing yourself with both hands. You could feel the cool, night air on your most intimate parts as he practically tore your leggings pulling them down. "Bradley!" you shrieked, your voice echoing in the covered dugout as he thrust into you with one hard stroke. 

"Well, would you look at that? Already wearing my name on your back, Baby."

"Bradley!"

He sucked on your neck and let his hand snake around to your clit as he fucked you. "You're just that good, huh? Wearing my name while I fuck you in the dugout. God damn it, Kitten."

You were a whining mess as he pinched and plucked your clit as his hips met your butt over and over again. And you knew he must be close, but you were so wet. He smelled and felt heavenly, and you could still taste him on your tongue as his breathing grew ragged. 

"Please," you begged, and he rubbed you until you felt yourself squeeze around his cock. He made a mess as he came, moaning your name into the cook of your neck as your orgasm left you shaking slightly. You could feel his cum dripping down your thighs as he withdrew. It felt good. And his fingers worked gently on your clit until you backed up against him.

Bradley just gently patted your pussy as he softly said, "The dugout, Baby? With a sexy bat girl? I'll never be the same, I swear it."

He helped you shimmy your leggings back into place, and when you turned to look at him, he was a disheveled mess in the semidarkness. His cock was hanging out from his jockstrap. His athletic cup was on the ground. His hat sat crooked on his head. And he still smelled amazing. "I don't think you're the only one with a baseball fantasy, Coach," you whispered, and he smirked.

"I'll indulge you whenever you want it. You know that. Now let's hit the showers at home and get you changed into your little cheerleader outfit."

"I thought you were tired!" you said as he tucked his length into his jockstrap and bent to retrieve the cup. 

"Not anymore," he rasped, wrapping his arm around your shoulders where you were proudly wearing his last name and yours. He tossed his bag of gear over his other shoulder, and you started heading for the parking lot. "Now give me all the details about your baseball fantasy."

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

Sweat and hot. Fuck. Send help. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[wrestlingmgc]

Regina di WAVE Champion Yumi Ohka

[bad268]

Ending (Lando Norris X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Bonus Day of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing! (Off topic, but how would we feel if I started taking MotoGP requests?)

Warnings: none technically, based on Ending by Isak Danielson

POV: Third Person...? idk actually

W.C. 509

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist

~~(^Pinterest)

Lando was on cloud nine after winning the championship. He was officially a World Champion in Formula 1. His entire career has led up to this point, and now, he couldn’t wait to share this time with you, his longtime significant other. Maybe an engagement was in order since the relationship had hit five years, and Lando was ready to make the jump. He had the ring, and everything all thought out.

He returned to his Monaco apartment after Abu Dhabi, opting to hold the celebrations until he could see you again and, hopefully, celebrate getting engaged, too.

He shouted your name a few times, hearing it echo through the seemingly empty apartment. He walked into the kitchen where you usually were baking something for him to come home to. There was a plate of cookies and a note. Upon opening it, Lando’s heart dropped. 

Dear Lando,  We’re at the end of the line. I don’t know what’s happened to you recently, but it feels like you have been pushing me further and further away this year. The beginning of the year was the happiest I had ever been with you. Now when I think of it I…it’s time to let go. There was a time when you were the only one for me, and maybe I could have been your only prize. I could have seen myself building a symphony with you, and I was willing to learn anything to stay with you. Even when I’m falling back, you’d still believe I tried. But life’s never like that. I knew relationships came with a bit of argument and compromise, but this is far too one-sided than I am comfortable with. Always reaching out and never receiving a single text, always dropping everything to support in a different country, and trying to maintain the picture-perfect relationship image you created is exhausting. I have no support from you, but I have done everything to support you. You have become so clouded by the championship, and your priorities have shifted. What happened to the grounded, humble cutie I first started dating in 2019? Why has he been replaced by this greedy, cocky bastard? If you try to blame it on the championship, forget it. That’s not an excuse.  The Lando I know would have never let it get this far. The Lando I know would have never let a few race weekends cloud his judgment this much. The Lando I know would have never allowed his fans to say I just ride the wave of your success or don’t support you. This isn’t you, Lando. Maybe one day, we can try again when you’ve found yourself again, when you’ve realized that you are just pushing everyone away. I’ll be here. I can’t rebuild a relationship if you don’t want the same. I still love you, Lando. I just hope you can see that I tried. I hope this isn’t our ending. I know you’ve said goodbyes are sad, so I’ll just leave you with see you later. With love, Y/n

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[rorja]

synopsis. you, suguru and the taste of victory lingering on his lips as intoxicating nectar — or, my humble thoughts about F1 driver ! suguru

a/n. i can’t stop thinking about formula 1 driver!geto and in honor of japan gp (that is only 4h away), here i bring my wild thoughts. i wrote this on a whim after seeing the qualifying results of today, lmao. unfortunately i really love this idea, so i hope i’ll be able to write a full and lengthy os one day — 🐣

F1 driver!geto who is the most successful driver in the whole season. age 27, suguru has already made a name for himself in the whole championship. shocking, entertaining and winning over the hearts of every single fan out there.

F1 driver!geto that started the season in melbourne with many problems with the car, but never once became a less dangerous competitor for the world drivers championship title. he managed to secure the podium at least in seventeen races out of twenty-one, his name becoming a guarantee for his whole team.

F1 driver!geto who is now racing for the very last race of the season, in one of the hardest circuits known to man in singapore. the humidity is high, the tension suffocating, the steering wheel slippery underneath the gloves. suguru has to survive two hours of pure adrenaline, remaining focused on the circuit and getting out of the twenty-three curves that create the circuit of marina bay.

F1 driver!geto who you easily spot amongst the waves of people starting to disappear from the box. the start of the race only measly hours away, and you can feel the pressure going up. higher than any other race you’ve attended until now. this is the finale and both the drivers have to do well to end the season in the top five at least.

F1 driver!geto with whom you’ve crossed paths with many times in the last year. it’s natural after all, you suppose. you’ve been working as haibara yū’s pr manager for two seasons now, marking probably the longest contract you’ve ever had with the formula one team. they have been impressed by your work and you’ve been more than happy to making it through so far.

F1 driver!geto who has always caught your attention from the beginning. a driver that left behind him only sparks in the narrowest of curves, the same ones that would proclaim him a hero all over again. you can see, as the people disperse inside the box, his gaze focused on the asphalt. his tight and firm hold over the steering wheel of the single-seater car.

F1 driver!geto that when locks his eyes with yours, make you feel weak and exposed all of the sudden. making your heart beat like that very first day you have met him.

F1 driver!geto that gets taken away together with haibara on the earned pole position from yesterday’s qualifying session. you watch him sprint from one of the many monitors of the box, his first lap time probably one of the best performances this season. you feel your knees tremble slightly as you bring your hands to your lips in a silent prayer: “please, let him come back safely from the circuit”

F1 driver!geto who is left on your hands for the upcoming press conferences as nanami is being called in the paddock for an urgent matter. you try to memorize the events listed on the paper left by nanami in a matter of three laps. three laps only to end this big and so anxiously awaited finale.

F1 driver!geto who takes home the golden ambitious prize of the season, earning his third consecutive title of world champion. and the scuderia becomes a complete mess once the car hits the finish line underneath the checkered flag, with never ending hugs and pats on each other’s backs for the hard work. haibara is confirmed fourth. you swear you saw tears of joy gathering on the corners of some engineers at the pit-wall.

F1 driver!geto that jumps out the car the moment he comes back on the pit-lane, indulging everyone’s excitement and answering back with more enthusiasm on his part. a japanese flag immediately being placed proudly on his tracksuit by his mother. a baseball hat taking over the place of the helmet in a blink.

F1 driver!geto whose party dies a little bit too soon once you grab his wrist and leads him down the hallway, telling him that he must reach the podium on the other side of the paddock in a few minutes. however, you don’t notice the smile that curls around his lips. a soft gleam in his eyes, dimming even further the heavy presence of adrenaline in his body.

F1 driver!geto that stops in his tracks and brings you closer with a hand on your hips, turning you around with a swift and smooth motion and making you yelp. “not even a kiss for your champion? that’s rude dear” and he’s teasing, you know he’s just teasing you. it’s infuriating. and yet, you fall for it once again. cupping his cheek with a hand and leaning in to kiss him. your emotions all over the place: worry, fear, happiness, excitement… love. your brain short circuiting as soon as your lips meets his, and you are acutely made aware of just how much he needed this tiny moment with you alone.

F1 driver!geto who announces publicly his relationship with you only a week later. a press conference at eight in the morning, only the two drivers of the scuderia sitting in front of the panel, and you can’t help but feeling giddy when you hear suguru confirming the rumors about a rumored relationship. your name sounding so soft coming from his lips. and you see the smile he gives, plastered on the TV screen, when he confirms his name for the next season. his adrenaline contagious. and you can’t wait to see him once again in the place he belongs to: the highest place on the podium after another great and successful season.

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Chapter 2 - Friday

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two]

Having been on the basketball team all four years of high school, it takes him less than two minutes to find Lucas. He and the team are doing some practice drills before the game.

He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Sinclair!”

Lucas stops instantly, looking for who shouted. Once he catches sight of Steve he breaks out into a grin and jogs over. “Steve, hey! What are you doing here, man?”

“I was informed that no one told you Hellfire did not postpone. Wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Lucas’ face falls instantly, the glee of seeing Steve here gone. “Oh. So, no one’s going to be here for the game?”

It doesn't sit right with Steve that Lucas's first thought is that his friends aren't going to show up. “What about your parents?”

“Well, yeah, they’ll be here. But they have to be. That’s what parents do. I just thought my friends would….” Lucas trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish for Steve to know what he was going to say. Thought they’d have his back. Be here.

Steve pauses before answering, thinking. “So, you want to play in the championship game. Not Hellfire?”

“Well, I want to do both,” Lucas says, “but it’s not like the school’s going to rearrange the entire basketball schedule so I can go play Dungeons and Dragons. I had Dustin and Mike ask for me, ‘cause I don’t think Eddie likes me very much? I think he’d say no immediately if I was the one asking.”

“Hey, that’s not cool,” Steve is a little peeved, but he’s not going to let Lucas see that. Lucas doesn’t need his anger, he needs support. “Uh, why do you think Munson doesn’t like you?”

“I’ve had to miss sessions before, for away games,” Lucas shrugs. “Eddie doesn’t like when people don’t show up. Plus, he’s treated me differently since I joined the team, you know? I can tell he’s colder to me than he is Dustin or Mike. The guy's not exactly good at being subtle.”

“Hey, I’m going to go talk to him, see if I can be more persuasive. I’m not going to be cowed by Eddie Munson the same way Dustin and Mike seem to be,” Steve is aiming for reassuring.

Lucas shrugs with one shoulder, and Steve knows he doesn’t believe him. Knows Lucas thinks nothing will change, and he's not going to have his friends here for moral support. Lucas opens his mouth, then closes, before he nods to himself, like he’s made a decision, and then says, “it’s not even about getting to play the final session. I get that moving it on short notice isn’t, like, easy. I just- they’ve never even been to a game, you know? The guys on the team are great but it’s not the same. Guess it just would have been nice if they’d of picked me.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Steve insists, hating the defeated look on Lucas’ face.

“Sure,” Lucas nods, “I gotta get back to practice. Thanks for trying.”

Steve watches him rejoin Jason Carver. Carver catches Steve’s eye and lifts a hand in a wave. Steve waves back before leaving the gym. He doesn’t know Carver well, but they were on the team together before Steve graduated.

Steve heads back to the green room. He can’t think of a single reason Munson wouldn’t like Lucas, he’s the politest of the kids, and most thoughtful. What’s not to like? Except in the back of Steve’s mind he remembers Billy, and how he singled out Lucas that day he broke a plate over Steve’s head. If Eddie Munson turns out to be a racist bastard, Steve will throw hands.

But perhaps it’s all just a misunderstanding? A lack of communication. Steve knows all about that. He’s had plenty of it before. He still sucks at communication despite Robin's best efforts. He is getting better, and it helps Robin makes it easy for him to open up. Having Robin to talk to has made it easier for him to speak with other people like the adult he’s trying to be. What he wouldn’t give to be able to talk to her right now. About this issue, and the waking nightmare, and about spying more on these kids while she’s at school with them because they are making poor decisions, and also, maybe, about how he finds Eddie Munson attractive (though, maybe that will go away if he gets confirmation Eddie is acting like Billy).

“-can, it’s Steve. Just you wait,” Dustin is saying when Steve steps back into the room.

“Oh no,” Erica sighs, slumping in her chair. She’s the first person to catch sight of Steve, “that’s your Disappointed Parent face.”

“I don’t have a ‘Disappointed Parent’ face,” Steve says before calling out to Munson. “Munson, Lucas thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why does he think that?” Munson stands up from where he was sitting. Steve been in enough fight or flight situations to recognize that there is a tension in Munson's body that seems to be gearing up towards fight more than flight.

“He thinks you don’t like him because he’s missed previous games. Thinks you don’t like him so much that he had to have Dustin and Mike ask about this game because he believes you’d have said no immediately to him,” Steve steps further into the room and he can almost physically see the hackles raise on the older members, like they’re gearing up to jump to Munson’s defense. Steve’s not going to get physical, he doesn’t want to. He just wants to talk to Munson.

“I don’t hate him, but the budding jock made his choice,” Munson scoffs, dismissive.

And that’s it, Steve thinks. Munson doesn’t like jocks and he’s singling out Lucas. He’s a little relieved that it’s not racially charged, but it still leaves Steve angry, so his mouth starts running before his brain. He’s on the defensive. “You’re a fucking hypocrite, Munson. You don’t get to bully people around here. It’s only okay for you to be the bully, huh?”

“Of the two of us, Harrington, I’m not the fucking bully,” Munson moves away from the table, rounds it like he’s going to get into Steve’s face, but Gareth reaches out and grabs his elbow when Munson passes by him, stopping Munson in his tracks.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Steve fires back. “I was a dick in high school, yeah, but I grew the fuck up. You’re singling out a fifteen-year-old because he wants to, what, play sports? Making him choose between the two? That’s fucked up.”

“Again, I didn’t fucking make him choose!”

“Whatever,” Steve says, dismissive because Eddie’s not the real problem here. The real issue is that Lucas wants his best friends to pick him and they didn’t. “Lucas is allowed to like sports and nerd things. And you two,” he pivots to point between Dustin and Mike now, “are being kind of shitty right now. After everything you’ve gone through together, you couldn’t stick by his side for this?”

“Hey, I have to get on a plane tomorrow morning,” Mike defends himself. “If they postponed, then I wouldn’t have gotten to play!”

“So, it’s fine that Lucas can’t play, but terrible if you can’t? That’s a load of shit, Wheeler. Lucas is supposed to be your friend.”

“He is my friend-“

“Then act like it!” Steve didn’t want to play his card, but he’s going to. “Will and El aren't here anymore; are you really okay with losing Lucas, too?”

“That is not fair,” Mike’s voice is oddly even for how angry he looks as he stands up to meet Steve's eye level instead of looking up at him.

“Steve, you’re being defensive, right now,” Dustin says, and Steve hears the message he’s trying to get across. Hears Dustin’s words from earlier ‘you’re an asshole when you’re defensive’. It makes him take a deep breath in because it’s true. He is being an asshole right now, which is exactly what Munson and the other Hellfire members thought he’d be. He’s not going to win them over and get them to see his point like that. Not when he's attacking them. And Mike.

Steve turns back to Munson now, trying to sound calmer as he says, “If you want Lucas to believe you don’t hate him, you’d go to the game, too.”

“Lucas can draw his own conclusion about how I feel. I’m not responsible for his emotions, Harrington,” Munson growls, clearly not a forgiving person.

“You’re right, but you’re also older than him and should take some responsibility for how you act around him,” Steve says, trying to be the bigger person here but he must admit it’s tough. “He thinks you’re being shitty to him, on purpose. He thinks you treat him differently than you do Dustin or Mike. And that’s fucked up. He’s just a kid, he looks up to you, and he's been through enough.”

Munson doesn’t argue back. He stands there, but he does look like he’s thinking about what Steve said, so that’s something.

There’s a shuffling sound and it draws Steve’s attention. Dustin is standing, shoving his things into his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Mike. The two seem to have a silent conversation because after a moment Mike nods, and begins to gather his stuff, too.

Steve’s proud they’re doing the right thing.

“So, you two are out?” Munson’s voice isn’t nearly as angry as it was before. Instead, it's flat. He’d almost call it monotone if not for the fact it did sound like a question.

“Steve’s right,” Dustin says as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “Lucas does really want to be here. He sounded real upset when he asked us to talk to you about changing the day of the game. I also really want to play, it’s going to suck missing the final session, but it’s going to suck more to bail on a years-long friendship.”

“Yeah. Lucas has never bailed on us,” Mike adds, even though he sounds upset for agreeing.

Erica lets out a put-upon sigh, “he has bailed on me, but never when it mattered, I guess. I expect that you’re buying the tickets, Steve?”

“Unbelievable!” Munson throws his hands in the air, which pulls Steve’s attention to him. He catches the look on his face; Eddie Munson looks… hurt?

Steve’s stomach turns a little and he scrambles to figure out how to settle it. “A compromise?” Steve offers. “Mike, when are you back?”

“Uhh, the plane is supposed to land Thursday afternoon; I’ll be back in town that night sometime.”

“Great,” Steve looks to Munson. “Can you guys play next Friday, or even Thursday night if Mike isn’t jet-lagged too much?”

“School’s locked up next week,” Dustin says.

“What about your basement, Mike?”

“Won’t fit all of us,” Mike says. “It was barely enough room when it was just Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I. The table's not big enough.”

“Plus, it stinks like boy,” Erica wrinkles her nose, “unwashed, gross boy.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Yes, it is,” Steve says, even though he hasn’t been in the Wheelers’ basement since he and Nancy were together.

“Steve, I have a compromise,” Erica says. “Regarding a promise you made to me. For life.”

Erica now has Steve’s full attention. “Yes, Erica?”

“We play at your house next Friday. You will provide snacks and pizza,” she says it like it’s decided, before pointing her finger at Steve, then dragging her hand through the air to point at everyone, “and all you nerds will stop bickering like old people. You’ll also have to buy our tickets because I didn’t bring any money. In return, I will shorten your life debt to the day after I graduate from high school.”

“Done! Deal!” Steve accepts instantly, because a day of snacks and pizza will be so much cheaper than a lifetime supply of ice cream. He knows Erica would have held him to that for, quite literally, his entire life. “I’ll be buying all the basketball tickets, and just tell me what pizza you want. That work for everyone?”

“Your parents will be okay with that?” Dustin asks.

Right. He forgets about the major secrets he keeps from the kids sometimes. “Oh, they’ll be gone by Friday for sure so no issue. So, will that work for everyone?”

The older members of Hellfire exchange glances, and, one by one, they all say yes. Even Munson.

Erica stalks up to Steve, stopping just in front of him, hand out, palm up. With a sigh, Steve pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it into Erica’s hand. “I’ll get back to you on the pizza I want. I’ll go buy tickets. Are you all coming?”

The other three members look surprised, but it's Gareth that speaks, “Uh, Harrington’s not gonna buy-“

“I said are. You. Coming?” Erica repeats, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Gareth says, then looks surprised he agreed. Erica has that effect on people.

Erica gives one nod and heads out the door. Slowly the rest pick up their things and follow. Steve goes to follow, too, but the rolling in his stomach returns. He’s not done here.

He waits until everyone has left before turning to Munson. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry for coming in here and like, immediately attacking you. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Munson looks him over before scoffing. “It’s whatever, man.”

“It’s really not,” Steve says. “I know that, like, a lot of work goes into this game and I’m sorry. So, like, if you want anything extra, or need something for the game next week, I’ll get it. I’ll help however I can.”

Munson pauses in the middle of his clean up, to look up at Steve and study him for a while. Steve’s just starting to get antsy when Munson speaks again, “I don’t know if I hate you or not.”

There's absolutely no reason Steve should be hurt by that statement, but he is. He can't show that to Munson though, so he says, “That’s fair.”

“I’ve got to know, Harrington. How’d this group of kids get to be so important to you?” Munson goes back to gathering up the stuff on the table. "Why is their continued friendship important to you?"

Steve moves to help, and Munson doesn’t shoo him away. “I used to babysit them. Try and keep them out of trouble, which is impossible because they’re too fucking curious and smart. That’s a godawful combination, you know?”

Munson doesn’t laugh but he does quirk one corner of his mouth upwards. “My uncle would agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t need a babysitter anymore but-“ Steve cuts himself off because he’s not sure what to say. But they’re bonded by shared trauma and grief? That they have to stick together because the Byers left, and Hopper’s dead, and they can’t lose anyone else because it might be too much loss, and he’ll just fall apart? “But they’re family now. They can be a bunch of shitheads, but I love them. And they hate it when I say this, but they should get to be kids as long as they can.”

A long silence follows that as Steve follows Munson's lead of picking stuff up and stacking it all at the end of the table by the throne.

“Help me load what I’ll need for the session next week into my van and I’ll think about forgiving you for ruining this one,” Munson says once everything is gathered.

Steve agrees (probably too eagerly and quickly if the look Munson shoots him is anything to go by) and between the two of them they make quick work of it. Before they take the last armfuls out, Steve steals a pencil and a piece of paper, scribbling his number and a question on it before shoving the paper in his pocket and the pencil back in the case. Then he scoops up what he can and follows Munson to his van.

They don’t talk on the walk from the van to the gym, which is fine by Steve because he doesn’t know what he’d say anyway. He's just glad Munson didn't climb in the van and leave, and is, actually going to come to the game. They get to the gym and find Dustin sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them with their tickets. As soon as they’re in the gym Steve’s eyes go for the marching band, looking for Robin. He finds her quickly and they have a completely silent conversation.

‘Why are you entering the gym with the Hellfire club?’

‘Long story, I’ll explain it later.’

‘You better, dingus.’

Then Dustin is pushing him down onto a bench next to Mike and taking the seat beside him, patting the open seat next to him for Munson to sit. Munson sits rather than climbing the bleachers to join the rest of Hellfire and Erica in the top row, and Steve finds he’s not surprised Munson obeyed. Dustin is very likable for being an annoying know-it-all.

Steve scans the gym, looking for anyone else he might know and- “Oh, shit.” He ducks backwards and down, trying to hide behind Dustin.

“What, what is it?” Dustin asks, scanning the crowd for what Steve saw.

“Brenda.”

“What?”

“Brenda!” Steve hisses, “I, uh, I stood her up. To come to your game instead.”

Sudden movement beside Dustin startles Steve but it takes only a second to realize it’s just Munson, swiveling to look at Steve, eyes big and eyebrows hidden in his hairline. “You ditched a date to play DnD?”

Steve and Munson just look at each other for a moment before Steve feels his face get hot with embarrassment. “Like I said. Dustin asked.”

Munson shakes his head like he can’t believe him and turns back to the court.

When Steve drags his attention back to the court, Tammy Thompson is making her way to the center to sing the anthem and Steve has to find Robin’s eyes again, just to make an ‘I Told You So’ face when Tammy starts singing. She sticks her tongue out at him and the girl next to her must say something because it pulls her attention from Steve.

Now that the teams have gathered and are standing for this wonderful rendition of the anthem, Steve looks for Lucas and finds him quickly.

Lucas finds them a few moments later, and his face lights up when he sees the whole club sitting there. The last bit of nausea that Steve hadn't even been aware of fades away.

Everyone stays for the whole game, which surprises Steve. He expected the older members to dip after the cheer routine. It means they all get to see Lucas make the winning shot. The whole club stands with Steve to scream and cheer, and once Lucas is done being swarmed by his teammates, he gets swarmed by the club members.

Then they’re splitting up; Lucas is going to celebrate with his teammates, so Steve tells him to make smart choices. Before everyone vanishes into the night, though, Steve chases Munson down, halfway to his van in the back of the parking lot.

“Hey, Munson, wait!”

Munson does wait, turning as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Harrington. Not done turning my night upside down?”

Steve almost flinches at the word choice. “Nah, man. Just wanted to give you my number.”

“Your number?” Munson says with just a hint of laughter in his voice and Steve's heart skips over itself. What the hell was that?

“Yeah. So that when it’s closer to the Dungeons game you can call, let me know the time that works for you all. Maybe even drop off some of that stuff I helped you load before the game? Whatever makes it easier for you.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I don’t have a pen on me-“

“No issue. Already wrote it down,” Steve says, pulling the paper from his pocket, offering it to Munson.

He reaches out slowly and takes it, balling his fist around it without looking at it, eyes locked onto Steve's face. The nearest light source is behind Steve, so he's not sure what Eddie's looking for, but it leaves Munson's face illuminated enough for him to look back.

Steve's never had a problem thinking Munson was objectively attractive. He's always gotten hot under the collar for people who push back against him and challenge him, which Munson did a lot of when they were in school together. Steve deserved all the pushback he got, he's honest enough to admit to himself. That being said, Steve's never seen Munson with his guard down. Even at Hellfire tonight his hackles were raised the whole time. But now, under the barely-there glow from the lamp post behind Steve, he looks... amused? The angry furrow that usually resides on his brow every second he's in Steve's company is gone, smoothed out. There's the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Then, as abruptly as the stare-down started, it ends, Munson turning on his heel and heading off into the night without another word.

“Okay then. Have a good night! See you next week!” Steve shouts at his retreating form and heads back to the gym, where Dustin is probably waiting for a ride even though he’s supposed to be hitching one with Nancy and Mike, and Robin will no doubt be expecting that explanation he wordlessly promised her. Steve wishes Munson had opened the note. He wants to know what kind of face he’ll make when he sees that, below Steve’s number, he wrote Truce?

[libraryofloveletters]

The Same Shade Of Red

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: monza 2020 (double dnf for the boys in red), so much angst sorry, redbull comparisons for seb, the magic that is monza, the disaster that is ferrari and their team, talks of seb's races in monza, a few harsh/sad thoughts from seb, mentions of retirement, charles's crash in monza 2020, mentions of the pandemic, reader is the most loving wife to which seb is her perfect match, britta is sooo over you guys after years of this.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: would I be me if I didn't take monza race weekend and turn it into an ode to seb? no. ferrari seb you will always be my most beloved and fuck you ferrari for hurting my husband fr. (also this gif is so sexy I can't explain it. well I can but I will be banned from tumblr dot com)

---

Monza held a special place in the heart of your husband, in yours and in anyone that was a part of the Vettel family.

Sebastian had proven his worth, winning his and Toro Rosso's first ever Grand Prix in Monza during the 2008 season.

It was no different when he moved to Red Bull from Toro Rosso, his era of dominance brought him win after win and two of which were in Monza; the home of Ferrari.

Ever since that first win, Sebastian held a special love for Monza, as did you. There's something magical about the place; it might be the atmosphere or the fans but it has always been good to you and Seb. Whatever it was, it was nothing if not remarkable every single time.

The Tifosi held their drivers to the highest of standards, some would say next to God. Something happens to Italy when motorsport comes to town; everything changes and every single person you meet is so passionate. They live and breathe for Ferrari, they'd die for their drivers if it meant they could see them on that top step.

When Sebastian moved from Red Bull to Ferrari, he counted down the days to Monza.

It had always been his dream to drive with the red team, just as his childhood hero and friend, Michael, had done. Sebastian's first year with Ferrari was the epitome of picture perfect.

Despite coming in P2 behind Lewis and Mercedes, being on the podium at home for Ferrari meant everything to the German driver. This wasn't the first time he had gotten on podium for Ferrari, in fact he had already won twice with them that season; in Malaysia and then again in Hungary.

Monza was different; magical, special. There was something in the air, the energy was indescribable. Sebastian grinned, waving to the team from the second step.

You smiled, watching as your fiancé at the time hummed along to the Italian anthem, a country he quickly counted as his second home.

Sebastian was the king of the world that day, even though he hadn't won.

He had returned to the garage with the biggest grin on his face, trophy in one hand and the bottle of champagne in the other. He passed them over to his engineer, making a beeline for you. The man's covered in champagne and sweat and confetti, and he smells like gasoline and engine oil but he picks you up, squeezing you tightly.

You remember telling him how much you loved him and how proud of him you were. Sebastian responded with a kiss, you can taste the champagne; a familiar taste that slowly became more scarce as his days with Ferrari went on.

Unfortunately, things took a bit of a downwards dip for Sebastian after that. He was hungry to win, he was constantly in a fight for the championship every year and it was killing him that he wasn't there yet. Yes, he had won races with them and broken every record he could possibly break but if he couldn't achieve the one thing he really set out to do, the one thing he had always dreamt about, then what was the point?

Monza seemed to always have Sebastian in its grasp, tricking him as the years went on. He almost always was there, he could reach out and touch the win and yet, it slipped through his fingers. Winning in Monza meant more to a Ferrari driver than winning in Monaco would - unless you were born and raised there like Sebastian's teammate, Charles.

You were the king of the world if you won there; your name written in the history books from now until the end of time.

Sebastian longed for his name to be in the book of the greats; Sebastian Vettel, Monza race winner.

A dream that slipped through his fingers as did his hope of winning the championship with Ferrari.

After coming in P2 in 2015, things just kept getting further and further from the finish line for him. P3 in 2016 and 2017, P4 in 2018 and last year was the final shove before the cherry on top this year; P13 while his new teammate, Charles, stood on the top step as race winner, basking in the magic that is Monza.

He was happy for him, beyond happy actually and any win for the team was great but oh how he wished that was him.

Now you're back in Monza, the season had been delayed due to the pandemic and this was the first race you had been able to join him for all season. It was weird being there with the track empty; just the teams and the occasional celebrity guest that was rich enough to pay their way in.

The car has been giving Sebastian a hard time all weekend, practice was shit and he placed P17 in qualifying. It wasn't a good weekend for your husband.

"Be good," you told him while he was getting ready for the race. Sebastian nods, a witty remark about him always being a good boy slipped past his lips and you waved him off, your cheeks red as you walked back to the garage.

Watching him start from the back of the grid was breaking your heart, you knew he could manage much more than that but it's the stupid car that was giving him trouble.

He barely got a grip on the car before he drove off and into the blocks that were in the run off area. Your brows furrowed as you watched him speed through the blocks, his voice coming through the headphone - "brakes failed."

Your heart drops, eyes fixed on the screen as Seb pulls the car into the corner as best as he can without disrupting the race. He finds his way back to the garage after the marshals come for his car, Sebastian gives your hand a squeeze as he passes through and into the back hallway to his driver's room. You figured you'd give him space to cool off and you stayed in the garage to watch a bit more of the race.

It was barely 20 laps later that you saw the other Ferrari slide into the wall. To no fault of Charles, the car had understeer which caused him to lose the back half and send him into the wall. You stood there, waiting to hear if Charles spoke before you took your headphones off.

Once you hear that he's okay, you step out of the garage and make your way to your husband's driver room. You knock on the door, peeking in before he answers.

Sebastian gives you a sad smile, you can feel your heart breaking as you step in and shut the door behind you. He's sitting on the bench and you walk over, joining him.

"Charles is coming in."

"What? The race isn't over, is it?" Sebastian looks over at you before glancing out the window. You shook your head, "it's a red flag now, Charles' car has understeer, went into the wall."

"Is he okay?" He asks and you nod, "he's a little shaken up but he'll be okay."

Your hand finds your husband's, interlocking fingers. "I always admire that even when you're going through it, you still look out for others."

"I know what it's like to be in his position, it's tough."

You hum, glancing down at the racing boots that were tossed to the side, Seb's sock clad feet slide back and forth over the floor. "You know what happened today wasn't your fault, Sebastian. It was mechanical."

He's quiet for a bit, nodding at your words. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, baby."

You look over at the man, "of Ferrari or of racing?"

"Both," he answers truthfully.

Sebastian and Ferrari had come to a mutual agreement - a publicity term - that they would not be renewing his contract. You weren't opposed to it, you knew it was killing your husband to go but if Sebastian was good at one thing, it was that he knew when it was time to go, he had to go. He wanted to win with them, you think a part of him still held a tiny sliver of hope that he would find his way back to the top step as champion of the world but he also knew being there was killing him.

Mentally, physically, emotionally; he couldn't bear the pressure of staying there any longer.

"It's just a few more races, love. You can do it."

He nods, "I know but.." "Don't even go there," you tell him, shifting to face him. One of your legs hanging off the bench as the other folded in front of you.

"Monza's special, you know that." He says, "I just.. I feel like I failed." He sighs, his head hung and if your heart wasn't already broken, it was broken now.

It was days like today that made you hate the team that your husband so dearly loved.

"You didn't fail, you never failed them, Sebastian." You squeezed his hand, the man looked up at you. Your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, your thumb rubbing over the few days old stubble on his cheek. "If anything, they failed you."

"You have the talent and the skill, and the drive to win and to be a champion; it's them, babe. They couldn't give you a car that was worthy of you, you can't blame yourself for that." You look at your husband and the man sighs again.

"I should have been able to, though. Been able to get the best out of the car."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Seb, c'mon. Be for real right now, it's their shitty ass car, it's not your fault. You know Lewis's car is basically a rocket ship, plus it's not like your strategies are A1 over here."

Seb tosses you a glance, a look of disapproval on his face. "You're so not helping right now, darling."

You raise your hands in surrender and your husband smiles - his first genuine smile all weekend. You smile back, holding his face again. "I love you, Sebastian."

"I know," he grins and you shake your head, laughing. "This is usually the point where you say I love you back."

"Oh, sorry." he chuckled, "I love you, y/n."

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss. "Good, now come on. You need to get dressed, go check on your teammate," you patted his thigh, getting up to find a shirt for the man. In the meantime, Seb pulled off his race suit and fire proofs, slipping on a pair of shorts.

"Do I really have to go?" He sits on the bench again, shifting to lay down, his arms tucked behind his head. You roll your eyes, looking through the small cabinet off to the side. "Yes, you know they'll make you out to be a villain if you don't."

"And if I wanna be a villain ?" He asks, looking over at you.

You sigh, tossing the shirt at him, "Sebastian, don't start with me right now."

The man laughs, dropping the shirt on the bench before standing up. Sebastian grabs your hand, pulling you flush against his chest. "Ew," you fake a gag, "you're sweaty."

He smiles, ignoring your comment. "I don't know what I'd do without you, I can't thank you enough for being here for me all these years."

Your hand rests on his jaw, giving him a kiss before smiling at him. "You don't need to thank me, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat but.. if you do wanna thank me, you can buy that purse I liked."

"Show me when we get back, you can take my card and order it."

"I was joking," you look at him, and Seb shrugs. "It's the least I can do to thank you for being the perfect wife."

"It's easy to do when I have the perfect husband," you smile, kissing him again. There's a knock on the door, causing you both to look in the direction of it.

"When the two of you are done being perfect, you're needed for press, Sebastian." Britt's voice from the other side of the door, making you both laugh.

Seb gives you one last kiss before grabbing his shirt, "I'm coming!" He calls to her, pulling it on. He was on his way out but you stopped him, grabbing his hand.

He turns back, looking at you as he waits to see what you wanted. "I'm proud of you, no matter what," you tell him.

Seb nods, smiling at you. "I love you."

---

taglist: @dragon-of-winterfell @benedictscanvas @elisaa-shelby @hnmaga-blog @czechoslovakiandisco @dr3lover @troybolton14 @Lovingroscoee @compulsiveshit @somanyfandomsbruh @damnyoulifee @barzysreputation @vickyofalltrades @yeolsbubbles @barzysreputation @thybulleric @valkyrie418 @ricsaigaslec @idkiwantchocolatee @sessgjarg @molliemoo3 @bisexual-desi @sunf1owerrq @alwaysclassyeagle @coldmuffinbanditshoe @sillybananamaker and @oconso cause she was fucking with the preview I sent her