#f1 sewis imagines

[heliads]

Where I Can't Follow

Lewis Hamilton isn't sure that he wants to retire yet, but when the rest of the world seems so sure of the opposite, it's hard not to feel his confidence shrink. In times of stress, then, is it really such a surprise that he would go to Seb for help?

masterlist

Lewis Hamilton has been thinking. About a lot, actually, but mostly about expectations. Everyone in this strange alternate shade of reality known affectionately as Formula One have started to shift their expectations for him. It started when he didn’t win a single race in all of 2022. It started when his car suddenly wasn’t crushing everyone else by leagues.

There has been an undercurrent of whispers in the paddock about whether or not Lewis will continue his contract with Mercedes at the end of the 2023 season. It was never in doubt before, or not as much in doubt as this. If there were whispers before, Lewis always made sure no one’s doubt was strong enough to influence him.

This is different, though. Lewis can feel his age in a way he never has before. He thought that time could only ever bring him maturity, knowledge, maybe even that humility people used to encourage him to develop– but he props it up with every step now. Aching bones, twisted back. He is not as young as he once was, and that is both for the best and for the worst.

Fernando was about 37 when he retired for the first time. He returned, of course, but he took a break anyway. Michael Schumacher was 37 too, also had a comeback. Sebastian– Sebastian is 35 and gone somewhere Lewis can’t seem to find him. Lewis would like to see him here again, but useless hopes don’t bring back friends or rivals or the strange sort of both that happened to him and Seb.

So where does that leave Lewis, then? On the outskirts of infirmity? This whole thing is sort of ridiculous– Lewis is 38 now, far from decrepit and elderly, yet everyone’s treating him like he��ll break a bone if he’s pushed down the stairs. Maybe that was why Fernando came back, both boredom and also the hesitance to make it seem like his best years were already behind him.

Lewis supposes he could go and talk to Fernando about the retirement dilemma, but that feels like giving up, in some weird way, so he keeps his mouth shut. There is, of course, the one person that Lewis would really like to speak with, but Sebastian is quite far away from him at the moment.

Sebastian. Of course Lewis is lying awake at night and thinking of Sebastian of all the rivals he’s had over the years. Lewis has had the pleasure and curse of meeting many a young upstart with something to prove, but for some reason Seb is the only one who’s ever stuck around in Lewis’ head long enough to make an impression.

The preference goes both ways, actually. Lewis is the only driver on the grid with Sebastian’s personal phone number, he’s the only one who can show up unannounced and expect Seb to both be there and happy to see him.

The thought of visiting Sebastian out of the blue does something strange to Lewis when it’s actually a possibility. It makes him think of one time last year when Lewis had actually taken Seb up on his offer of an open welcome instead of brushing him off.

It wasn’t as idyllic a trip as Lewis’ nostalgia for the past will let him believe. Lewis had offhandedly mentioned that he was travelling away from his place in Monaco for a bit and Sebastian had offered for him to drop by if he was in the neighbourhood. Lewis wasn’t remotely close, but something in Sebastian’s tone made him switch around a flight or two and then there they were, out on Seb’s back porch like they’d known each other from their cradles to the present day.

Sometimes, Lewis wants them to have been friends for longer, even beyond the tumultuous string tying them together before they got over themselves and started liking each other properly. Lewis lingers over photos of a teenaged Seb taped up on the refrigerator and wonders how he forgot how sharp that grin used to be, too many teeth showing for one smile and all that. The expression has softened on Sebastian now, it fits better in between the skin of his cheeks, but Lewis misses the infuriating adolescent Seb had been anyway.

They’ve known each other for decades now, but Lewis wants more. He cannot help it, the wanting is in his blood:  the need to win a race, the urge to keep his career moving forward, and now, the most recent want of all, this all-consuming desire to keep Seb with him for as long as Lewis can physically manage it. 

Comparing the Polaroid with the genuine article just down the hall, Lewis feels an unruly monologue crash through his head, heavy with wanting and twice as burdensome on his heart. There's a kid that you're supposed to know, I think. He was supposed to have been me. We were meant to grow up together, but if you ended up being born several countries out of reach, that can't be held against you. All the same, I’m certain that it was supposed to work out better than it did.

Then again, maybe it was for the best that Lewis had not known Sebastian as a child. Look what he did to Nico, after all; look how he fucks up the best parts of his life. Still, Lewis gets the feeling that it might have been different had Seb been the snarky boy by his side instead of the junior Rosberg. Did they not survive their rivalry? Did they not survive it all?

Sebastian comes to get him soon enough, chastising Lewis for getting caught up in someone else’s photos (if you want to stalk me, Lewis, there are enough pictures out there on the Internet already, at least have some style) and gesturing for Lewis to join him out back. Lewis watches the sun progress through the sky, and just when his guard is finally lowered, Sebastian slips a knife in between his ribs.

When Lewis first hears Sebastian form the words, he thinks it must be the start of some awful joke. I think I’m going to retire at the end of this season. He almost starts to laugh. See, this is the sort of thing Seb would have done, eyes sparking with malicious humor from underneath a Ferrari cap, maybe even a Red Bull. Lewis would have rolled his eyes and told Sebastian to stop trying to scare him like that. Maybe he would have even threatened to tell the tabloids so Sebastian would have to keep talking about it in press conferences until the beaten horse had long since died.

But they are not young men anymore, and Sebastian is no longer grinning down at him from the top step of a podium, and so Lewis knows with a glum certainty that he is not joking. The truth of it sits lodged at the base of his stomach, heavy and cold and terrible.

Seb looks over at him. “Say something.”

Lewis can’t. Sebastian sighs, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Lewis can imagine exactly how the other man must see him:  stubborn, morose, an old sap unable to accept the terms of his own world grinding on without him. For once, Sebastian would be in agreement with the media, and that breaks Lewis’ heart more than he expected.

And then Seb’s face splits in a self-satisfied smirk, so goddamn Seb-like that Lewis’ throat closes up, and he tells Lewis that he’s glad of it. “That just means that you’re not sick of me yet,” Sebastian says, a touch of self-deprecating humor lancing through the words just sharp enough to startle, “and that’s good news to me, I suppose.”

Lewis had tried to argue this, meant to ask Sebastian to name one instance Lewis had been sick of him (except perhaps Baku, although they are both satisfied with that result by now) but Sebastian had interrupted him, encouraged Lewis to finish his drink before the ice melted, and so he did. After that it was easier. The necessary words did not have to be spoken to be understood.

Lewis had wondered for weeks afterwards if he should have said something after all. If Lewis had known the right thing to tell Sebastian, would it have stopped him from retiring? The rest of the visit had been more than good, but at the end, it had been an excuse for Sebastian to tell him that truth, and they both knew it. Sebastian had still left. Sure, it would have been worse to find out from that depressing Instagram post like everyone else, but Lewis feels no better off with his knowledge. It just meant he had to sit with that sadness for longer. 

Lewis had not understood why Sebastian would want to leave their ring of exactly 20 glorified car jocks for a quiet afterlife, not even after last year, but he thinks he’s starting to get it now. The urge to tear down his legacy like ripping up construction paper keeps flickering through Lewis’ head. They want him gone, don’t they? They have since the start. He might as well give them a show while he’s at it, it’s what they’ve always wanted.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself reaching out to Sebastian again. Seb gave him a warning when he left, Lewis found it right to do the same. Some part of him mainly just wants someone to shake him around the shoulders and tell him to get his head in order. Seb could do that too. Sebastian can do a great many things. The hold he has on Lewis is astonishing. That would explain why Lewis spent so much time last season talking about how Sebastian would most certainly come back. He could not find it within himself to accept the loss otherwise.

I am going to destroy myself, Lewis decides in the middle of the night to an imaginary Sebastian, I am going to destroy myself and all I have created, and I want you there to see my castle burn. You do not have to put the fire out. I just want you to know that it was me who did it and not anyone else. 

The warning would be right, after all. If Sebastian suspected foul play, he would never let it go, and if this retirement is truly what he wants, who is Lewis to take that from him just because he needs an ally? Of course Seb would release a statement or ten if it seemed like Lewis was under fire. He is good like that, good in a way that makes Lewis want to never let him go.

Lewis types out one text message, makes it as inconspicuous as he possibly can. Sebastian responds within the hour, a screenshot of an upcoming flight to Lewis’ location. Lewis wonders if Seb can see through him as plainly as he did with Seb last season.

And then Lewis is opening up the door to his place and Sebastian is grinning at him, making fun of his wallpaper or something gloriously simple like that, and it is like no time has passed at all. Something relaxes in Lewis’ chest, a muscle he hadn’t realized he was contracting. It’s okay. Sebastian still wants him. This. All of it. Even without the forced proximity of the track.

He pours drinks, and they idly talk about small news and whatnot before Lewis poses the question that’s been burning on his tongue, well, for months.

“How did you know, man?” Lewis asks, “How did you know it was time to leave?”

Sebastian tilts his head back, blows out a low breath. “That’s a tricky question. Why?”

Lewis studies the glass in his hand very carefully. “Just. You know. You wonder sometimes.”

Lewis can practically sense Sebastian sitting straighter, the suspicion growing. “You only wonder if you’re thinking about going. I thought you weren’t interested in that.”

Sebastian is wonderful at fighting the world. He'd spit in anyone's eye so long as it was right, and doubly so if it was wrong, too. Lewis doesn't want someone to defend his honor, though. He just wants someone to listen.

That might have been harder at the start, back when they were just a few years past the end of boyhood, but they are older now, more prone to contemplation. Sebastian kicks up his feet on a nearby ottoman (he had the grace to take his shoes off at the door, Seb has learned by now how Lewis gets about stuff like that) and he listens to Lewis’ injustices turn from a well-organized and repeated mantra to rambling complaints.

At last, when Lewis pulls quiet back over himself like a favorite piece of clothing, Sebastian purses his lips thoughtfully and carries on. “Are you going to leave, then?”

Lewis blinks in surprise. He hadn’t thought that Seb would even name that as an option, Lewis had always been so adamant about staying until his eighth world championship win at least. He supposes he had been hinting at it all this time, and of course it is what everyone else is wondering, so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that Sebastian wants to know, too.

“I don’t know, really,” he says at last, “I think I want to keep going, but that depends on who’ll have me. Contracts, you know.”

Sebastian, of all people, knows how contracts can go. Lewis still tastes a smattering of anger on his tongue whenever he passes Mattia Binotto in the paddock. Seb taps his finger against his glass like he’s summoning a dinner party to a toast, then sets the vessel down on one of Lewis’ nearby coasters. Recycled wood. He tries when he can.

“Don’t retire,” Sebastian says, “Not quite yet. It won’t be the right time.”

Lewis wants to ask if it was the right time for Sebastian, but he doesn’t know that either of them would be able to come up with an adequate answer.

Instead, he sighs, turns his head towards Seb again. “Do you miss it?”

It’s a ridiculous question, and were it asked by anyone except Lewis at this moment in this place, Sebastian would probably despise him for it. Seb knows Lewis enough to recognize the lack of condescending tone laced within the question, though, so he smiles and gives him a good answer this time.

“Parts. Some of it I’m glad to leave. Others were harder.” Sebastian pauses, then admits it, what they’ve both been wanting to hear. “I missed you most of all.”

An impatient part of Lewis makes itself heard before he can stop himself. “I’m here now, though.”

“I know,” Sebastian says softly, “I know.”

Lewis knows it too. That will make it okay when he has to leave, when they will both be pulled to their respective corners of the earth once more. At some point, he will be able to come back, and they will be the same as always. Nothing has changed. That heals Lewis more than he thought possible.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[f1incorrectquotess]

Lewis: You know you can't really make everyone love you, you're not Seb

Charles: Not everyone loves Seb tho-

Lewis: Who doesn't? Gimme names

Charles: I was just-

Lewis, pulling out a baseball bat: NOW-

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p7

chapter 7: we crashed and burned

warnings - none at all

series masterlist

The Silverstone crowd roared as the grid lights went out. Y/N, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs, launched off the line with a blistering start. Having lived in the UK for most of her life, it was her home. This was it. Her home race, her first real shot at a win.

However, qualifying hadn't been kind. A gearbox glitch had left her in P4, frustration gnawing at her. Up ahead, Lewis, the ever-dominant force, sat comfortably in P1. The radio crackled in her ear, Liam's voice calm and collected. "Keep your head down, Y/N. We'll get our chance."

Y/N gritted her teeth, focusing on the race ahead. From the very first corner, she displayed her aggressive driving style, surgically carving her way through the pack. A risky overtake on Bottas here, a daring move on Ricciardo there – Y/N was on a mission.

By lap 15, she had clawed her way up to P2, breathing down Lewis's neck. The tension in the air crackled, the crowd sensing a brewing battle. Y/N pushed her car to the limit, matching Lewis turn for turn.

Lewis, frustrated by her relentless pursuit, made a critical error in judgment. He pitted early, a gamble that backfired spectacularly. Y/N, seizing this golden opportunity, stretched her lead. The Red Bull garage erupted in cheers as she crossed the finish line, checkered flag waving, a first-place victory secured.

The champagne shower was bittersweet. Yes, she had won, but the joy was tinged with a sense of unease. A clip of Lewis's furious radio message, broadcasted after his failed pit strategy, had gone viral. "What a stupid fucking move! She's a cheat, just like her brother!"

Y/N's smile faded. Her phone buzzed incessantly. Twitter was a storm of angry comments, fueled by Lewis's outburst. Tears pricked at her eyes. This wasn't how she'd envisioned her first win. The Lewis she'd known, the playful boy she'd shared video game afternoons with, was a distant memory.

The other drivers, sensing her distress, gathered around her, offering congratulations and words of encouragement. Max, ever the blunt one, scoffed. "Don't listen to that loser, Y/N. You earned that win fair and square."

Lando chimed in, his voice gentle. "Lewis will get over it. He just hates seeing someone else on the podium."

Y/N forced a smile, her voice choked with emotion. "Thanks, guys." But the victory felt hollow. The playful rivalry she'd secretly harbored a spark for had morphed into something toxic and consuming. As she walked away, a single tear rolled down her cheek, a silent testament to a shattered dream.

Fury simmered in Nico's eyes as he stormed into Y/N's garage. The radio message, the hateful words Lewis had spewed – they were a declaration of war, not just on Y/N, but on their entire family. He found Y/N huddled with Max and Lando, a brave smile plastered on her face.

"Y/N," Nico's voice was a low growl. "That message…"

Y/N waved him off, her smile faltering. "Don't worry about it, Nico. Lewis is just… Lewis."

Max scoffed. "Just Lewis? That was disgusting! You drove brilliantly, Y/N. You deserved that win."

Y/N offered a weak smile. "Thanks, Max. I appreciate it."

Across the paddock, Lewis watched the interaction unfold. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut as he saw Nico comfort Y/N, wiping away a stray tear that escaped her determined facade. The playful banter, the shared laughter of their childhood – it seemed a lifetime ago. He had let the rivalry consume him, turning a sweet memory into a bitter enemy.

Later that evening, Y/N exited the restroom, her face drawn. Lewis, who had been washing his hands, froze. He knew he owed her an apology, a genuine one. He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N brushed past him, ignoring his presence altogether.

"Y/N, wait," he pleaded. "I need to apologize for what I said. It was…"

Y/N stopped, her back stiff. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. The dam broke when Lewis spoke again.

"It was unprofessional and disrespectful," he continued, his voice low. "You are a phenomenal driver, Y/N, and you deserve every bit of your success."

She spun around, her voice trembling with unshed tears. "Don't you dare," she choked out. "Don't you dare act like you fucking care now. You and Nico… you fell out, you started hating each other so deeply that... you stopped being in each others lives. And I had to watch him lose a best friend, and in the process, I lost you. I cried for days when you stopped talking to him, Lewis. And you know what? You didn't even call or text me one time. Not when everyone on Twitter called me a nepo baby, not when I got into that crash in F2. Not when the entire racing community said that I didn't deserve a place because i was a woman. You were part my whole world. My. Whole. Fucking. Universe. And it was so easy for you to leave and cut me out. So no Lewis. I'm not giving in this time because as much as you claim to be Mister. Nice Guy I know your reality and it is the fact that you didn't care one bit."

Lewis felt the floor drop out from under him. He had no right to be surprised. He had pushed Y/N away, collateral damage in his war with Nico. The pain etched on her face mirrored the forgotten ache in his own heart.

"Y/N…" he stammered, his voice heavy with regret. But the words died in his throat. He had hurt her, pushed her away, and apologizing now felt hollow in the face of his past actions.

Y/N wiped away a tear, her voice laced with a steely resolve. "Save it, Lewis. The damage is done." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lewis alone with the weight of his remorse.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life

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

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[lewishamiltonstuff]

Seb missed Lewis so much that he decided to become a surgeon for him so they can play the doctor operation together 😭🌚

[lesharl-eclair]

sobbing, part 2

[sebscore]

FEMALE F1 DRIVER HEADCANONS 

pairing: f1!drivers x fem!driver, f1 grid x oc

warnings: i didn't specify which team, cause it's not really about that tbh. I imagine the oc being one of the younger ones on the grid (around mick's age). I based this one on the 2022 grid. 

author's note: this is basically how things i imagine that would happen with the grid if you were their only female colleague. 

▹ seb and lewis basically being your work parents: defending you from misogynistic reporters, praising you to heaven and back, claiming you are right even when you are obviously wrong in a situation. sewis supports women's rights, but mostly women's wrongs.

▹ the wags either absolutely adore you or they tolerate you, there's no in between. It's girls support girls until one of their boyfriends gives you a hug and then you're fucked. 

▹ getting away with wrong answers in 'Grill the Grid' because the production team are totally in love with you and they hate your sad face when you give them an incorrect response.

▹ giving the grid nicknames that go from normal to borderline weird. for example, Mick becomes Mickie, Latifi becomes Nicky or Goatifi (depends on how the race went), Alex is Albono of course, George becomes Russy Bussy and Lando is Rumplestiltskin. 

▹ at the driver's briefing: ''alright, boys-'' *scratches voice loudly* ''and lady.'' 

▹ valtteri and kevin letting you ramble to them about whatever drama you have going on in your life, cause they don't have much better things to do and they find it touching that you go to them for these kinds of things. 

▹ you and zhou sending pictures of the outfits you're going to wear to the paddock during race week. sometimes even matching, cause yall are close like that. 

▹ max teaching you his second language that is called 'swearing'. checo also likes to chime in. one time he convinced you the word 'cunt' was a compliment and he made you go up to max and call him that to congratulate him on his race win. let's say mad max made a brief appearance. 

▹ jokingly flirting with other drivers just to rile toxic fans up for fun. the flirting consists honestly mostly of sarcastic comments about how they're good drivers, but better lovers, etc. 

▹ fernando giving you random piggyback rides. for what reason? no one knows. It's nando, what do you expect. danny ric also does it sometimes, but he makes horse sounds and it freaks you out. 

▹ you and esteban jokingly asking lance for pocket money, but you two sometimes hope he actually gives it one day. 

▹ weekly gossip sessions with Pierre, because that man seems to know everything about everyone. occasional guest starring by charles and yuki. 

▹ whenever carlos walks into the room, you start playing 'smooth operator'. at first he thought it was funny, but now he deliberately avoids you. 

▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.

▹ overdramatic photoshoots with lando and daniel aka the papaya boys for their insta accounts. those jpg accounts are honestly just fan pages for you, because of the amount of times you've appeared on them.

[amazing-lovers-fic-fest]

Coming soon...

Big things are happening...

Hold on to your Perple energy drinks!

This is a project I've been wanting to create for a while now. It's probably already been done before, but I'm trying to make this one as unique and accessible as possible. I think the world deserves more Seb orientated fic fests, don't you think?

I was inspired by the concept of the F1 Big Bang fanfic event, and thought I'd put my own spin on it. But this time, it will be different. I will be centring this event around Sebastian Vettel and his many boyfriends. Pairings such as Martian/Sebmark, Simi, Sebson, Sewis, Sebchal, and the like. I'm including rarepairs as well to give people more accessibility and to let their imaginations run wild with creativity. Fanfic writers and artists will have free rein to pair Seb up with anyone from the motorsport world, including ROC, Moto GP, WRC, Nascar, and any of the Formula categories. You could even add Seb's Red Bull engineer Rocky and pundits such as Lee McKenzie and David Coulthard. Plus, you can put them in any situation you like; AU or otherwise. Go crazy!

So, if this sounds like your cup of Perple- I mean hot chocolate- I mean tea, then give this account a follow for updates on how you can get involved as a fanfic writer or as an artist or a bit of both. Reblogs are appreciated to help spread the word.

I'm so excited to get this project started. I hope things go the way I intend them to go using these platforms to advertise this upcoming fic fest. 🙏🏻

Stay tuned!

Yours truly,

Gemma (aka @avida-heidia-5)

{Profile icon and banner created by the amazingly talented @argentinagp}

[probablybotw]

Sewis/Brocedes Soulmates Au

I love soulmateAU's, it gives me years of life, and now, it just so happens that it gived me an idea.

You know like, the AU where you have two names written in your body, one from your true love and one from your worst enemy and that got me thinking.

Because imagine Lewis having both Nico's and Sebastian's name.

It would start being very obvious to him like, obviously Nico is his best mate and now he just gotta find the other poor fucker and be careful. So he keeps going happily with his life until in F1 he finds himself in front of annoying twink Sebastian Vettel winning the world championship and Lewis just thinks: "Alright then, so this is the bitch."

And they fight and they keep it tense and it's actually pretty great, because Seb's an annoying cocky little shit that will happily fall in the villains roll, but he also is funny, a little nerdy, passionate and despite everything just great to be around.

So Lewis is having a little bit of a crisis and then 2016 happens, where everything goes to shit and nothing is clear anymore.

[totothewolff]

Grand Prix Elite Academy (1/10)

+18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!student, sewis, carlos x reader, collegue au | romance, smut, comedy, gossip, betray

Summary: Your life turns 180 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One College, designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the faculties, and try to win this year's Elite Cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes, all while befriending your eclectic classmates, join the wild parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Race to Greatness! Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fic set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program called WomenOne and have lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold. Becoming the outcast new girl is always challenging, especially when all of you live on one campus.

< Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Chapter 1: Hi, Society

"Everyone who lives in Monaco is filthy rich."

Well, that's a half-lie that people say; the working class also lives there - and the families of the people who work for the rich - just on the outskirts of town near the border with France. 

Yours is one of those: a middle-class family of three (you, dad, and your dog). So, a chunk of your day goes to commuting downtown to attend school and help with the auto parts shop, your family-run business.

You had the misfortune (now you call it that!) to have been raised by a hardcore motorsports madman in what you consider one of the most F1 households of all time in the most F1 city in the world. 

That madman is your dad, a middle-aged man who is apparently good-looking (judging by the attention he gets from female customers; okay, he is in shape; you get that part) but has remained single for the longest time.

He is a hard-working mechanic who invested all his inheritance in opening an automobile repair shop and a twin business, an auto parts and components store located on the same street, which seems logical. 

You are one of those households that loves everything related to cars and motorsports, a trait you inherited in your cells from birth.

Yes, yes, you are a "daddy's girl." It's embarrassing, but he's your hero.

Thanks to him, you were that "weird" little girl at elementary school who could name all the parts of a car's engine and their exact functions. By high school, you could explain the mechanics and physics behind a motor, and you were able to repair and customize cars and motorbikes by your senior years. 

-

Daydreaming was a fundamental part of your childhood and still is, but nowadays, the therapist calls it MaDD or trauma coping. 

Back in the day, you loved sneaking into the driver's seat of any expensive sports car the clients took to the workshop for repair. You imagined it morphing into a racing car as you drove it to high speeds on a race track. 

Of course, you always ended up winning the Grand Prix! And that fantasy lasted until either one of the mechanics or your dad got you out of the unit.

-

By the time you turned eight, your family made an effort to take you karting. It's costly, way more complex than you expected, and also heavy on the body!

You always ended up exhausted after practice or racing, but you didn't care because you were killing the game, impressing people along the way, and winning piles of trophies!

After several years of success, you got sponsored and made it to Formula Renault, where you winning was also a regular thing.

Then, you continued to Formula 4, where you started to succeed, too. By that point, you were utterly invested in your racing career, working hard to make your dream come true and make your parents proud.

But that sad September, your mom got sick. 

-

After her passing, nothing was quite the same, and your racing dreams got buried along with her, leaving you and your dad an emotional and financial wreck, with a lot of debt in the bank due to her treatments.

-

"Time heals everything," 

That's another half-lie people tell. 

You never get over a loss of that kind, but you learn to live your life the best way possible and try to find joy after it.

-

So, as you go through your teen years, you feel as if your life is starting over, as someone else has lived your past.

You choose to help more with the family business after noticing your father is tired and stressed every day and wanting to be there for him.

You take full responsibility for running the auto parts and components store. After school, you go there, and that's where you practically live. 

The shop is in an old part of town; it used to be a cheap neighborhood, but it's not anymore, still not the most luxurious town area, but the location is excellent. 

As the business grew, the shop underwent several remodels - more like improvements - made by your uncle Marco (your late mom's brother), your godfather, who works in construction.

The store is now bright, clean, and organized. It has tall white walls with blue accents (the ones you helped paint), a neat grey polished concrete floor where you can almost watch your reflection, and pendant lights in the ceiling over the aisles full of product racks. Several pennants and large posters give the place character. 

Most of the time, you are behind the long counter with the cashier and computer by the entrance, where you run the stock, attend customer payments, do your homework, and watch Netflix (on slow days).

Next to you is always your dog - with his bed and bowl - and behind you is an entire wall of shelves with premium products.

The store's most recent and exciting acquisition is a new set of automatic slide doors and a large welcoming rug with the business logo. 

God! How boring is your life?!

Still, you are grateful for those; before that, on busy days, you wanted to tear your ears off at the nonstop sound of the bell atop the door.

The store is at the corner of the street, and the large workshop is two buildings away across the road. 

Both are different from your usual mechanic's spots; yes, there is still oil in some parts, but this is Monaco, after all! If you want to attract clients in this city, you must look nice.

Your dad lives and breathes at the workshop. 

Your household is one of those that leaves the family home very early in the morning and returns at night to sleep. 

-

As things get financially healthier again, your dad and godfather work hard to renovate the shop's attic slash old storage space into a tiny apartment for you.

It's a simple but cozy open-floor concept: a one-bedroom with a kitchenette and counter bar for two stools, a sitting area with a bulky love seat and a TV.

Your desk is next to the bay window facing the street, which offers a sky view, making this your favorite spot to study. 

A queen-size bed with a nightstand completes the space, along with the door leading to the world's tiniest bathroom. 

You love this rabbit hole so much. 

Your dad and godfather allowed you to choose the style of decor and furniture (you went for minimal and boho), and now you love this place more than your actual home (a more spacious two-and-a-half-bedroom apartment with a small balcony nearer the mountains).

-

As you grow older and reach legal age, you start doing everything at the shop by yourself, saving the money spent on extra hands. 

From cleaning to stock control, acting like a sales lady and the store influencer, posting social media content, updating the website once you convinced your dad to sell online, and taking care of your dog, now the business mascot.

People love him! He always gets pats on the head from customers, and some return just for him. He is a lazy old basset hound named "Diesel."

You must ensure that Diesel wears his bandana with the shop's logo daily, as it is his official employee uniform. He is your childhood dog, and the idea of losing him makes you anxious.

-

By this point in your life, you speak fluent "mechanic" which should be considered an entire language, thanks to growing up surrounded by them.

Depending on the photo, you may smile or laugh when you open your childhood photo albums. 

There are many pictures from your birthday parties held at the workshop. In them, you appear surrounded by alpha males with tattoos, beards, and muscles wearing girly birthday props as you blow the candles off a Barbie-inspired cake or whatever was trendy with girls back then, with the entire place usually decorated in glittery pink party decor. 

That's your life in a nutshell.

-

Nowadays, since you are a full-grown woman in their eyes, they act overprotective of you, especially when a boy your age tries to flirt with you while buying something with their parent's credit card. 

But they get it so wrong! You don't recall when or how, but you started to get attracted to men, not boys, older men. 

That middle-aged group of guys that make you beg, "Please run me over with your sports car," as you stare at them driving as they pass across the store's big windows facing the street. 

You love the roaring sound of the engine, but you love the view of the handsome man driving it even more. 

Still, it's just a fantasy; those guys are completely out of your league, and well, you haven't had a social life, not even a suitor in all these years, and you have never had a boyfriend. Maybe it's your shy nature or your looks that you feel so insecure about.

-

In the last couple of days before graduation, many universities show up to promote their college programs in a sort of Open Day. 

You avoid the Grand Prix Elite Academy people like they have the plague, knowing that's a dream you can't afford. 

And they know it, too! 

You can tell by the look the extremely hot model-looking Student Affairs ladies give you when you succumb to the temptation to get closer to their stand.

You nervously step in front of them without saying a word and leave after they rudely and unwantedly hand you a brochure with all the information about the program, tuition, and more.

They both look annoyed at their employers for making them attend a school without potential clients.

-

You remove your shoes and drop your backpack on the floor when you arrive at your loft. As you get cozy on the bulky, puffy couch, you muster the courage to read the brochure.

"Grand Prix Elite Academy is the ultimate path to success in the world of motorsports.

Our program is an exclusive Formula One college degree designed for aspiring drivers who dream of pursuing a career in professional racing. 

This program offers unparalleled training and mentorship from seasoned professionals, personalized coaching from world-class racing experts, access to state-of-the-art facilities and cutting-edge simulators, and networking opportunities with industry leaders. 

This degree aims to cultivate the skills and mindsets of future champions. It's the ultimate platform for developing the aptitudes, knowledge, and connections necessary to reach the pinnacle of motorsports.

Drive to Greatness. Race with us."

After reading the entire brochure a hundred times and eyeing all the pictures, subjects, and prices attached, you can't help but cry until you fall asleep.

-

After several texts to your number, getting no reply, and two missed phone calls, your dad goes up to the shop's loft to look for you, now worried. 

The day is over, and you two should head home soon to avoid traffic. He always texts you when it's time to leave, and you rush down to the shop's exit to get in the car.

As he approaches the sofa to wake you up, he notices the GPEA brochure on the floor next to you and places it inside his leather satchel. 

He doesn't mention anything to you about it at dinner or later.

-

The summer break begins, and soon, you will become a college freshman. 

You applied for several engineering college programs within your budget, in town, or nearby. 

You still want to work at Formula One, and if you can't get a driver's seat, you aim for a team's chair.

-

You have been nervous the entire week, knowing the acceptance letters will soon arrive. You are crossing your fingers they aren't rejection ones. 

You get accepted in three out of four!

A part of you expected a positive outcome since you have always been a nerd with good grades; plus, you felt you scored the admission tests and nailed the interviews.

However, when the postman appears at the store again, you look at him perplexed as he hands you a fancy and unexpected additional envelope. 

It's good your dad is having lunch with you at the counter at that exact moment to clarify your doubts.

—What is this?! —your voice goes all high as you walk fast and nervously to him, showing him the Grand Prix Elite Academy logo stamp on the envelope.

—Listen, don't get mad at me —your dad puts down the fork and stops eating for a moment to face you. —Wait to get your hopes up high yet —He starts to calm you down, noticing how you are hyperventilating now. —Read it first.

—WHAT?!!

—Y/N, breathe, easy...

You tear the envelope with shaky hands and quickly scan the letter's content.

—AH! —a funny scream comes out of your mouth, and you look at your dad with wide eyes before pushing him into a tight hug, a bit brusquely. —I GOT IN! I GOT THIS YEAR'S SCHOLARSHIP!! —you fucking can't believe it. —BUT HOW!?!!

—I applied for you, well, I pretended to be you; I disliked being an annoying girl —he rolls his eyes at you, joking. —After that, I sent the board an email explaining our situation; as your father now obviously —he looks a bit embarrassed at his confession. —It's good that I documented your entire and promising racing career. I know how important this is for you. I'm sorry that we cannot afford it on our own. I know you have the talent and deserve that scholarship more than anyone! Thank God they went all charity on your ass!

You laugh, and happy tears run down your face. Your dad hasn't seen you this happy, not since mom...

—OH GOD!

—What?! —your dad's heart skips at your words.

—It says I must register ASAP for the virtual classroom since I didn't attend the in-person summer program. Jesus! I just got in, and I'm already behind! —you rush to the computer, and before logging in, you say: —Dad, I love you; you have nothing to apologize for!

-

As the countdown to the start of the academic year goes on, your nervousness levels increase. 

You get more hysteric each day, and your dad already regrets his actions.

Billions of thoughts cross your mind daily: What if they don't like me? What if I end up failing? Am I good enough? What I'm going to wear? This attire list is so pretentious. What's a smart-casual look? I don't own any gowns! 

OH GOD!

-

A heavy box arrives at the shop by mail. 

It's your welcome package to the academy. Inside, you find a gorgeous and expensive-looking varsity jacket, the college's cashmere sweater, and many more branded items. 

It also contains an extensive list of things you need to do before the start of the year, instructions for your first day, and a textbook of rules. 

Your scholarship sponsor is WomanOne, which supports girls around the globe in completing their college degrees. 

You feel so empowered that you swear to do your best and conquer the game! 

Your grades and performance are crucial for them, so you must win the most Elite Cup races you can.

-

Two days later, another envelope arrives; this time is an invitation for the Homecoming Gala; the paper feels fancy as fuck! 

The event is scheduled two nights before the start of the course, and it's mandatory, which you find hilarious. 

You have never been obliged to attend a fancy party before.

-

A few days later, a push notification informs you you have two new DMs on the GPEA app (the official college app they requested you to download and register on). 

After filling out and completing the procedures to set up your profile for the driver's market, the Ferrari and Aston Martin principals want to interview you on the virtual platform since you now appear available to be picked or to apply for a faculty slot.

Shit is getting real!

-

—She looks too sweet for this brutal land; I hope she survives here —Lewis says as he leans closer to peek at Sebastian's iMac screen. 

They volunteered at the Student Affairs Department this year to obtain the mandatory extra credits. Well, Sebastian applied for the job and dragged Lewis along, as usual. 

As they both look at the student picture you upload on the platform; then, Seb starts to copy out your data to print your access badge.

—Is she on the market yet? 

—Yes. All the faculty principals have received her profile, but so far, only Ferrari and Aston have booked an interview with her. She applied to join the McLaren faculty, though.

—Interesting. So, no words from Zack?

—Not yet. You know how it is, my dear scholarship king. Y/N looks really promising. Are you feeling nervous about it? Now someone wants to take the full scholarship prodigy title away from you —Seb teases.

—By this rookie, you wish! —Lewis tenderly slaps Sebastian's face, a bit sexual still. —Everyone is after my titles anyway, as well as my sexy good looks. Are you feeling nervous about it?

—You wish! She doesn't have what I give you —it's Seb's turn to state; that light touch was enough to turn him on.

—Oh, please, could you remind me what you give me? —Lewis teases, a bit aroused.

—Oh, I can show you —Seb gets dangerously close to him, slowly pushing him against the office desk.

-

You are so grateful the full scholarship covers the on-campus living fee and secures you a dorm room. 

The GPEA is so far from your house that commuting there would be a nightmare. Thanks, Google Maps, for the info! 

Now you know you have to leave tomorrow with time to spare to be on time for the Homecoming Gala. 

That night, you struggle to fall asleep. It's the anxiety about tomorrow's party. You pray to God that somehow you fit in.

-

As the moonlight dances upon the glistening waters of Monaco's coastline, the college's luxury campus emerges with opulence. 

Tonight, the GPEA is hosting the most glamorous Gala to mark the commencement of a new school year; to your eyes, it's a scene of total excess and splendor. 

Nothing as you have seen before!

Party lights dance and illuminate the facades of the campus buildings, casting vibrant and cool designs on the walls.

The garden's magnificent palm trees sway gently under the warm Mediterranean breeze, their leaves aglow with the enchanting hues of the illuminations. 

The campus's modern architecture, a seamless blend of money and elegance, looks like an oasis adorned with meticulously manicured gardens, flowers, and fountains. 

The soft sound of water cascading brings a sense of tranquility amidst the muffled DJ's set music coming out of the celebration. 

As you are about to reach the building entrance, you notice the long parade of the most luxurious cars, gracefully chauffeuring guests who descend with elegance, sporting breathtaking gowns from renowned designers and dapper men wearing impeccably tailored tuxedo suits. 

-

This homecoming Gala looks straight out of Gossip Girl. 

As you step onto the red carpet, you can feel the electric buzz, radiating a contagious energy that sets the exhilarating tone for the party. 

It looks like it is going to be a wild night.

And you are correct. The clinking glasses of champagne get louder as the evening progresses, and the party ensues.

The crowd consists of beautiful, fit, and effortlessly stylish students exuding an air of confidence and superiority. 

Despite your striking look in a fancy dress, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider among the elite.

-

As you move around in the ballroom with a glass in hand, you notice a figure that stands out: Toto Wolff, wearing an impeccably Brioni tuxedo and exuding charm and charisma. 

His striking features, towering height, and muscular body immediately command your attention. Your gaze draws towards him, entirely captivated by his physical features and confident presence among the sea of people. 

You can't help but stare at him; he is pure eye candy. 

"So, this is what genuine attraction feels like?" you think.

You go all red when you notice a stunning set of clear eyes are watching you, lusting for Toto.

—No worries. It's the usual reaction Toto gets. We've all been there, I guess. I'm Leandra de Vries! I'm a Ferrari somophore —a stunning, lean girl with legs for days and perfect hair greets you. 

Wow, that's having a face card! Her nose is to die for, and Jesus, those eyes! She looks tan, and her "gold" skin is silky and shiny. 

"I need to moisturize!" you think instantly, comparing yourself.

—I'm Y/N Y/LN —you quickly add. —That's a beautiful dress, Leandra!

—It's vintage Dior; they don't make them like this anymore —she shows you her breathtaking embroidered gown, extending her long, athletic leg. —You look good, even with that thing you are wearing! No offense; you better get used to these kinds of comments. Let's say this place requires thick skin; my advice: never take it personally.

—Oh, thanks, I guess?! —you both laugh.

—Is it from Zara? —Leandra comes closer to whisper to your ear, curious and disgusted at the time, but with comedic timing.

—Yes! —you answer, holding a giggle.

—Oh god! Please remind me to get you in my wardrobe; I have a couple of pieces you so desperately need —she smiles at you and intertwines her right arm with yours.

—Please! —you beg and smile at her.

—Let's walk around! —she invites you.

So far, you like Leandra. Although she may look like a mean girl, she is well-intended, empathic, and honest. She doesn't hold back, and that's your type of person.

She tells you she got transferred here from the Italy campus the year before - after her older brother passed away in that polemic crash at Monza, and because her parents wanted to start fresh, trying to run from what happened - she states it was tough for her to settle in and be accepted here. 

She also explains that the social circles here are very airtight, so she wants you to experience something other than what she went through.

—This place loves gossip, and you are the talk of the moment, "the charity baby who got the Lewis scholarship" —Leandra lets out like it was a bother, almost rolling her eyes while walking you to the bar area.

-

—So that's the new "Charity Baby"? She's cute!

—Where!? —Lando pops his head behind Oscar after his comment.

—There, with Leandra —he points.

—How does that woman get even hotter each year?! Fuck, she looks so fuckable in that dress! —Lando undresses Lea with his eyes.

—Getting an erection this early on? That's a new record for you —Max jokes, staring at him.

Leandra starts to lead you both in their direction. The group is gathered around the large velvet sofa in the fancy sitting area near the bar. 

When you two arrive at their side, you overhear George leading the conversation.

—She is still out of your league, mate —George mocks him. —But how did it go with Arabella?

—Oh, she was delicious; I fucked her in the gym's pool. Her ass feels terrific! —Lando lets them know the gossip.

—Arabella is the blonde with the great tits? —Max inquires.

—No, no, that's the Mercedes girl, the one I fucked in the library.

—And you also fucked the librarian.

—And the trainer's assistant.

—And the Human Resources lady.

Everyone keeps adding.

—Better be getting ready for Lando's disappointing dick game —Carlos jokes with you as soon as he notices you standing there in complete silence and addressing you for the first time.

Everyone turns their head towards you.

You go all red.

—I mean, if you want, I'm available tonight —Lando shoots his shot, shamelessly flirting with you and reaching for your hand.

—And welcome! —Sebastian jokes from a distance, comfy wrapped in Lewis's arms on the sofa.

—Lando, you fuck everything that breathes —Yuki states impressed.

—It's cus' I got dick game, to Carlos' jealousy.

Out of nowhere, you notice Lance standing right to your left. —I heard you are working class and got here under a full scholarship like Lewis did. Is that true?! —Lance inquires, curious and with a sweet voice, but his wording is not the best.

—Yes, I'm from a middle-class family —you shyly reply. —We own a car repair workshop, and I work there.

Lance's face looks amazed. Sebastian notices his and your expressions and doesn't waste time.

—Lance, you can't ask people that! You know some people work for a living? God, you are so out of touch! Excuse him —Seb joins in.

—Yeah, unlike you, the people's people —Lewis mocks Seb, pointing at him and roughly combing his hair, then Lewis gives you a "these guys" face and winks at you. —They don't mean it —Lewis lets you know. —Welcome, welcome! I'm L-

—Lewis Hamilton, yes, I know, you are a legend —you look at him in awe.

He is the only one who gets it, who gets you. 

He is as rare as you. His family famously worked their butts off to get him here before he got offered a full scholarship like yours and became the scholarship program and the GPEA prodigy. 

No one has won more trophies and cups in the history of the college than him.

Mercedes already hired him as their reserve driver and offered him a contract as the future of their F1 racing team, the most expensive deal ever for a rookie. They are just waiting for Michael to retire.

-

After lots of chatting, dancing, joking around, and getting to know a bit of everyone in that little group, Principal Zack reaches you. —Miss, Y/LN. Can we have a word, please?

—Of course! —you interrupt your conversation with Oscar and go to him.

After walking around and casually chitchatting a bit, he informs you: —I appreciate your request to join our faculty, but unfortunately, it's impossible for us now. We noticed your career resume has a long hiatus, which puts you behind our other candidates. However, we will closely watch your performance this year, and maybe you can ask again next year —Zack politely kills your dream to drive for them momentaneously. —You have a promising future, you are talented, and I wish you the best.

—Oh, bummer! But I understand, sir. I will do my very best!

You make it back to the group, but since they love to dish, they all were observing the scene from afar and interpreting your expressions, betting their money wasn't good.

—And? —Yuki asks.

—Not McLaren.

—I'm sorry, it's their loss! —Mick comforts you. By far, he is the most kind and polite of the bunch. It must be tough to grow up under his dad's shadow; maybe that's why he is so empathic with the outcasts.

—I haven't heard from Aston or Ferarri after my interviews either —you look slightly concerned now.

—Give it a time —Seb reassures you.

—Oh god, it's too early to endure a Masi speech. No one is drunk enough yet! —Lewis cuts the chat, looking straight at the man getting up on the fancy and tech stage, lit out under professional lightning; a massive state-of-the-art Samsung screen is behind him, showcasing the academy and its sponsor's logos.

—Does anyone feel like powdering their nose in the bathroom before the speech begins? —Carlos offers.

—Count me on, babe! Do you want to join us? Being high as a kite is the best way to enjoy this party —Leandra addresses you.

—Oh! No, no, thank you —you quickly deny with your arms.

—Hey, don't go hard! I brought mushrooms for all of us later —Max adds, and they nod in sync.

Okay, this is going nothing like you expected.

-

"Good night, esteemed faculty, staff, and enthusiastic students. As the Dean, I am honored to address you at the start of this new academic year at the Grand Prix Elite Academy. We are here united by a shared passion for speed, engineering, and the excitement of Formula One racing. 

Our college stands as a unique institution dedicated to preparing the next generation of brilliant minds and innovative professionals in the motorsport industry.

This academic year holds incredible opportunities for growth, learning, and discovery, and I encourage each and every one of you to embrace the challenges, cultivate your skills, and push the boundaries of knowledge in this exhilarating field. 

Let us fuel our enthusiasm, collaborate synergistically, and pave the way to new frontiers of excellence together. I extend a warm welcome to all and look forward to an extraordinary year ahead. 

Thank you."

A lazy round of applause comes from the crowd, but minutes before that, about the middle of the speech, Leandra stands by your side. —Do you want to know all the tea about Toto? —noticing how your eyes went all over him once more. 

He is up on the stage with all the principals from the different faculties. It's nothing new, but you are experiencing it for the first time.

—Well —you hesitate. —Yes.

—He has remained single for a while now, more like fucking around, actually. Toto has a type: blond bombshells, the supermodel type, you know, with insane bodies. I'm friends with two of his conquests, and one told me he fucks like a bull. He likes it hard and rough, and the other let me know he has a delicious fat cock but that he hits it and quits it; he left her begging for more.

You blush at her words, which she instantly notices, before continuing: —Last I witnessed with my own gorgeous eyes, Toto was hooking up with Anitta at that fancy Ferrari's anniversary party; she was all over him; it was a great party, we all got smashed! I ended up cowgirling Dani on the back of his car, oops. 

You hit playfully Leandra in the ribs with your elbow while looking at Ricciardo standing meters away. —Daniel is hot!

—And a moron! Ah, right! Toto went through a very public divorce about a year ago; it was the talk of the town. The Wolff's splitting, OH! The elites went wild! His ex-wife is a counselor here, so you will see her around; they have a weird relationship. I think they still fuck.

Okay, this is a lot of information, but one thing is sure: you are different from his type. 

—By the way, he's a very demanding professor and one of the very best. His subjects are challenging to get accepted into, and it is hard to obtain good grades in them, but if you achieve them, you gain a lot of respect; he has an eye for talent, so think twice before choosing him. Many girls try to add his class to their schedules to get closer to him, but it never ends well. He is a dream crusher. Do you want me to introduce you to him? I'm one of his favorite students.

—Oh, no, no —you get all nervous. Leandra laughs at your answer and how you go full panic within seconds.

—So you are the type who only likes to stare? —she mocks you. You softly push her, joking around.

Oh, yes, and he looks so fine! That suit is tight in all the right places!

-

The party gets better and wilder as the night progresses, and the alcohol takes a toll on your systems. 

People are dancing around to DJ Lando's sensual set and hooking up everywhere; the lights are dim, and neon lasers pulsate to the beats. 

Bodies move in sync with the rhythm as you all gather on the packed dance floor. Max offers the mushrooms around, and a "Fuck it! I deserve to feel alive!" feeling overpowers you, and you join them as they cheer you in, feeling now more like part of the pack!

Amidst the blur of Carlos's body dancing around you - he became your companion for the night - you start feeling everything on your skin: the energy, passion, and thrill. 

You can feel your pupils dilating and his firm chest under your hands. Your vision gets distorted, and a tall man with dark hair and intense eyes forms in front of you, and you fight that urge to slide your hands down.

You needed so bad this tempting display of youthful freedom and uninhibited release, begging for your inhibitions to fade temporarily after years of sadness and solitude.

You can't wait for the course to start and for this new chapter in your life to begin. 

Please don't let it just be a fantasy! To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[heliads]

i've been big and small (and big and small again)

The Ferrari news drops. Sebastian has to know.

masterlist

Sebastian sounds amused over the phone. Even more so than usual, actually. It figures. Anyone would be pleased if the entire motorsport world was tearing itself to pieces to determine fact from gossip and you were the one man with the central cause of the hubbub on the other end of the line. Sebastian Vettel has always been territorial and deeply possessive of the men and teams he covets. This, by all accounts, is a win for him.

It’s a win for both of them. Lewis could have addressed the rumors earlier, certainly, he has known how to handle the PR side of racing for years, but this time around he liked the unsteadiness of it all. Lewis has kept a level head for much longer than he’s really wanted to, and now he gets to revel in the mystery. For once, everyone can chase after him instead of the other way around. No more begging for good cars or for anyone to listen to his suggestions. Hopefully.

Plus, keeping the secrecy alive was all but a guarantee that Sebastian would call. Lewis is not above teasing a married man by leaving him sly details about his future like digital breadcrumbs on a path to more transgressions than either of them would ever admit aloud. Lewis knows perfectly well what he’s doing, and Sebastian does too. If he goes too far– which, above all things, is their favorite habit– well, Maranello is closer to a certain estate in Switzerland than Brackley, at any rate.

“So,” Sebastian says, dawdling on the line, “I seem to recall that I did a surprise switch to Ferrari before you. If this is imitation, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“A compliment?” Lewis repeats, chuckling. “Of course you would.”

“How else should I take it?” Sebastian protests. “You’re following in my footsteps, it’s lovely. Only, I hope you do a better job of it than I did. My time with the Tifosi was unfortunately lackluster. Fernando’s was as well, so you’ve got two of us to show up.”

“What if mine is too?” Lewis asks. It’s a question that’s been gnawing at him for a while. There is, of course, the freedom in joining with a new team, the resurgence of a hope that’s been steadily decaying for a while, but fear comes with it, the fear that even a new team, new colors, new everything, won’t be enough to reclaim past glory.

Sebastian blows out a low breath, and the static of it crackles over the speaker. Lewis shifts his grip on the phone, cradling it so he can expose more of his skin to the digital current. “Will that matter?”

Lewis scoffs. “Of course it matters.” He’s a man of results. If they try to discredit you, you prove your worth by making it impossible to ignore you. Wins give you protection, world titles give you armor. Lewis cannot afford to be mediocre. His life is one of excellence or nothing.

“I had thought you would say that,” Sebastian tells him wryly, and Lewis can imagine the quietly sarcastic uptick of his smile.

“Am I that predictable?” Lewis asks.

“Well, apparently not, because Sky Sports is running around like a headless chicken,” Sebastian informs him. “But anyone in your position would wonder about what they were doing. Eleven years is a long time to leave behind.”

Lewis shuts his eyes. “I know that part.”

As if he hasn’t thought through it already. Committing to Mercedes was exhausting, but leaving it took far more energy and nerve than even he’d expected. Lewis knows what he wants, an eighth championship with Mercedes and then an opportunity to fuck off forever without being bothered ever again, but sometimes he doesn’t always get what he wants. He’s learned that with Sebastian too, in the form of a ring on his finger that haunts Lewis like a hand around his throat.

“And I know the rest,” Sebastian muses. “We all have to try, and we all have to fail. It’s inevitable.”

“Inevitable,” Lewis says disbelievingly. “I don’t believe you’ve ever thought anything was inevitable. You’ve fought for everything in your life, even when you didn’t have to.”

Lewis can imagine Sebastian’s proud grin even without seeing his face. “I like to make life exciting, yes.”

“Difficult,” Lewis amends. “You like to make life difficult.”

“I make life interesting,” Sebastian suggests. “Can we agree on that?”

“We can,” Lewis decides. “Now, come on, man. This is the part where you try to convince me that the Tifosi will change my life. Radicalize me with Forza Ferrari or whatever it is that you do. Or at least remind me that there will be substantially less porpoising. Distract me from leaving the W14 behind.”

“And Bono?” Seb asks, clearly indulging himself.

Lewis snorts. “Don’t bring up Bono,” he says, but he’s laughing, and blushing more than he’s laughing, and he figures Sebastian can probably tell that even over the phone, so. Not a whole lot of disguising that, then.

Seb chuckles fondly. “You’ll have others.”

“Yeah?” Lewis asks, not quite listening.

“Yeah,” Sebastian affirms. “And old friends, too. There’s a lot to enjoy at Ferrari.”

“Tell me,” Lewis says.

Sebastian’s breath hitches in his throat at the order. And then he talks, and Lewis listens, and the time passes. Rumors spread. Neither of them care.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[f1incorrectquotess]

Lewis: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Sebastian: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger��. How about you, Daniel?

Daniel: Probably “road work ahead”.

Valtteri: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

[sionisjaune]

re: jenson lore, i’m curious if you know the origin of the princess cake ship name? i understand princess bc of nico but what’s the cake, and how did it become The Name? ty for your service 🙏

Okay so I was definitely not in F1 fandom during the early days of princess cake (side note: let's appreciate that jenson/nico is one of the oldest pairings in this fandom and was quite popular in its time) but from what I gather the "cake" part comes from this clip after qualifying for the 2011 Hungarian GP (his 200th race) where Jenson says, "I love cake, so I'm hoping someone will give me a cake. Went for dinner last night and the boys sorted me out with a cake, which is nice. Then I got another cake at the hotel. So I'm already two cakes up, hoping for another cake today." Important to note, Lee McKenzie replies, "We'll get baking!" (I love her.) I also notice that a lot of authentic 2010s princess cake fic contains references to Jenson's supposed love of cake. I'm not sure if it was an in-joke prior to this moment or what.

Anyway, princess cake as a ship name is equal parts embarrassing and adorable and speaks to its own age. You'll notice a lot of "older" pairings have this style of ship name (wolfstar, superbat etc) rather than the portmanteau ship names we see today (maxiel, sewis). Another side note, I'm interested to know where "princess" came from for Nico. To my knowledge, no F1 personnel have ever called him that, so I imagine it came from fandom and/or homophobic men criticizing him on Twitter.

[gr63wdc]

‘If you have questions the asks are open’ you know what I’m about to ask about o7, beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair. Or tbh any of your other wips I like hearing people talk about their wips :3c

(I was half tempted to just dm you but you said asks so ask it is >:))

erika, you've given me the amazing opportunity to rant about my wips/fics so i am going to utilize it. i'll tell you about the beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair first, and everything else below the cut (for context, here is that wip summary poll). :DDDDDD

beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair this is my wag au for the fest!!!! i have talked to many a friend (including you) about this wip, and everyone seems to be very excited which i am happy about :)) basically, it's loscar with trans girl logan as the wag. they're very sweet and in love and it is simultaneously annoying and adorable to all of their friends. the main cast also includes max fewtrell (my beloved) as oscar's teammate at mclaren, lando norris as logan's bestie and max's wag, fred vesti as the most amazing supportive friend anyone could ask for, and a few other things that i am still working out (lawnsonoda is a very real thing that may or may not be included in this fic). i plan for it to be a semi linear narrative, by having the 2023 f1 season as the main thing but with flashbacks, social media, and other things sprinkled throughout. you have seen some of my outrageous planning and this will be a behemoth when i am done. i'm so excited!!!!!

gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss, george russell <3 imagine with me: george russell was born georgiana russell. so she's like if irl george was 50 times more neurotic and worried about what people thought of her. it will also be secret relationship gax (gasp... tuser gaxpodium writing gax... crazy...) and overprotective girl dad toto.

can the ghost of enzo ferrari fix my relationship? catholicism and being italian go hand in hand, so we're translating that religious fervor into f1. teams have a patron god (usually someone important to that brand or team) and surprise surprise, enzo ferrari is the patron god of the scuderia ferrari f1 team. your fealty and worship to your patron god will greatly impact your race results. this is angst central, with deeply heavy lore, so it will take me a while. and it focuses mainly on sewis and charlos (and how they deal with the whole "ferrari chewed me up and spit me out and you're still worshiping him" thing)

first a fan, then a teammate, then things got really mushy anyone else deeply impacted by leaf's dando video edit to "love of my life" by harry styles? no, only me? but i'm serious, this is entirely based on my visceral and life-changing reaction to that video. it changed me as a person...

uptight british bitch versus kind-of-rude dutch dickhead actually the first bit of rpf i ever wrote. it started as an assignment for my fiction 1 class (crazy...) and will probably be pretty short when i actually post it (no more than 10k words probably). it's a two part canon compliant gax fic, one part from george's perspective and one from max's. there's not much to say about this one since there's very little planning for it lol

what if three guys were in love but they were all stupid about it? it's geochalex. i feel like this should be obvious for me, but the three guys who are stupid and in love? geochalex. my notes rn for this fic mainly consist of the words "geochalex miscommunication!!!!!!!" so like yeah, that's the stupid right there

there are a few other wips/ideas that i forgot about when making the poll including a chalex apocalypse au that is inspired by the last of us (and also written for my fiction 1 class)

[bohnsky]

You guys. I might just be the happiest person alive right now. When I started getting into F1 a few months I decided for whatever reason (the reason being Charles Leclerc) to support Ferrari. I quickly learned that being a Ferrari fan came with lots of downs and very few highs, but today I learned that the highs can be so high that you want to die on the spot because there is no way life could get any better.

You can guess how I feel about Carlos winning today. In Monza I got a Chestappen podium, now I got a Carlando podium. What’s next? Strollonso? Sewis? (thinking about it, Seb’s going to be in Suzuka, maybe we’ll actually get Sewis content, not a podium tho)

Also I didn’t expect to see Eric Nam at F1. Never in my life would I have expected to watch Eric Nam shake Carlos Sainz’ hand. Like wtf?

And that last grill the grid episode killed me. As someone who is interested in geography I can say that some of their answeres were catastrophic. It was hard to watch at some points. (Like wtf do you mean you have to find Europe first?)

So here are my favorite drivers four months and a week into liking f1. This time I decided to do a top five because my top three haven’t changed in ages:

1. Alex Albon

I love him, his voice, his face, his goofy laugh, his personality, (his girlfriend ahem), his driving, his everything. Please marry me. The marketing short film with the Albon pets, I mean come on. Alex and cats is everything I need in my life. And the other drivers with his shoes, that’s so cute.

The weekend was not optimal for Williams, but tbh I didn’t really pay much attention to them because I was a little distracted by Ferrari and Red Bull.

2. Sergio Perez

Okay hear me out. I love Checo and I feel bad for what I’m about to say but I was so happy that Red Bull had a bad weekend. I like Max and I love Checo but it felt so good to see someone else win for a change. Although I would’ve loved to see Checo in front, because I always do.

3. Charles Leclerc

My little Ferrari heart was so happy this weekend. And I think that Charles should have pitted for mediums in the end there and maybe we would’ve gotten both Ferraris on the podium. Charles did some incredible defending and keeping the Mercs behind him to help Carlos. Afterwards he seemed a little bummed out, but happy enough for the team and Carlos.

Also he’s just the cutest on grill the grid, always looks so confused. And his laugh, I can’t with him.

4. Lewis Hamilton

This is probably no surprise to anyone, because I keep debating if I should put him or Charles on third and Charles always wins. Lewis is great and he deserves the podium. Although I do think that George should have gotten it.

Also I just found out that he has an Extreme X team. With Christina Gutierrez. How cool is that please? (Not as cool as Carlos Sr. with Laia Sanz my love my one and only, but still)

5. Carlos Sainz

So this is where it gets intresting, because I had Lando and Lance on my list for fifth as well, but lately I have become somewhat obsessed with Carlos. I’ve always liked him, but now I love him. He has become one of my favorite drivers (otherwise he wouldn’t be fifth lol). He is funny, smart, seems like a very nice guy and doesn’t take himself too seriously and I love that. I guess you can imagine how I went feral several times this weekend. The fact that he kept Lando close enough so he’d be in his DRS zone. I mean sure it was strategy, but still. I like to believe that he did it solely to help his Lando.

Honerable mentions:

Lando. Of course, what a great race and I can’t with all of this Carlando content. They deserve the world. But damn just let Lando stay home when you do geography with grill the grid. It hurts us all, not only him.

Lance. I really don’t know what it is about him. He took my heart. Every time I see him, I just want to squeeze him. I was super happy about all the Lance content we got from grill the grid, but then quail happened. I just hope he is okay and recovers quickly. That crash was insane, but luckily security got better over time.

Fernando. First it was all fun and games with Strollonso and all, but I’ve somehow started to actually get attached. He makes me happy, or in this case sad, because the race sucked for him. Not a good weekend for AM. Also Fernando with Alex' shoes. Loved it.

Max. I feel bad for him. I am happy that the Red Bull reign is over (for now) but he deserves a good car, because he’s just such a good driver. Also he really impressed me in grill the grid.

George. I shouldn’t be mad at him for being good, but I am. But at the same time I’m happy for him. He’s a great driver and damn what a race today, he really should have stood on that podium. But he ruined a Ferrari front row by being good so I am allowed to be mad.

Esteban. First of all, happy birthday my man. The race sucked again, but at least this time there was some coverage of him and we didn’t have to assume that he got abducted by aliens. And again, I love his accent way too much.

Liam. I had the time of my life watching his quail. I might have celebrated a little too much when he kicked Max out, but oh well. And he got his first points, which is great for him. I hope he gets a permanent seat soon.

Daniel. I had to include him just so I can mention Taylor Swift. My man singing Our Song was the best thing ever.

[racingliners]

⭐ for tros, please! xx

fanfic writers directors cut

Again there is SO MUCH I want to talk about with TRoS!!! Like I could go full PowerPoint presentation, but alas it's twenty to 11 at night as I'm typing this so that'll have to be for another day.

So for now, I'm gonna talk about the podium scene in the Spanish GP chapter!

(Under a read more, I got chatty.)

So with Seb being Chief Strategist there was always the possibly of him being picked as a Constructor's representative for the podium and I 1. obviously wanted to write about Seb getting soaked in champagne while wearing a famous white Merc shirt and 2. wanted it to be a Lewis win for Sewis reasons.

The way I do worldbuilding for AUs means that I like to include echos or references of canon/IRL events. In this case in the 2017 season Lewis and Seb were 1-2 on the podium at the Spanish GP, as well as sharing so many podiums over their careers, as well as having a Seb-Lewis-Jenson podium at Barcelona in 2011, so I really wanted to make reference to both of those races.

I also wanted to play around in the "How does Engineer!Seb feel about his F1 career and does he ever miss or think about what he could have had?" sandbox.

Hence why I opened the chapter with the following paragraph:

Sebastian hadn’t been able to pinpoint the exact moment he’d stopped feeling like an imposter when he walked through the paddock entrance. It had just… happened. He’d scanned his pass while chatting with James Vowles and stopped feeling the watchful eyes of every paddock photographer, pundit, commentator and journalist leering on him. He no longer felt like Seb the Red Bull prodigy turned reject playing dress up, but that he finally matched the words on his accreditation – Sebastian Vettel, Chief Strategist at Mercedes AMG Petronas Motorsport. (It was a wordy job title, but he adored every single letter).

Sebastian's happy, and most importantly comfortable in his new role in the F1 world. That is until he's told that he's been picked to be the Constructor's rep on the podium and a lot of stuff shoots up to the surface.

As Seb looked into James’ kind eyes, all he felt was a slight tightening in his chest. And yet, he didn’t want to let anyone down, or more accurately didn’t want to disrespect the team, by saying no. “It’s just champagne Seb,” James Allison clapped a heavy hand on Sebastian’s shoulder that just about managed to pull him back into the present. The bright blue sky, the roar of the crowd, the concrete beneath his feet, and the eyes of all of his colleagues now trained on him. “You might actually enjoy it.” Seb half forced himself to let out a small laugh and nervously pulled at his ear. “If you wanted to see me soaking wet before now, you should have just asked.” He said with a shy grin, and thankfully everyone either rolled their eyes or tutted instead of looking at Seb with concerned glances.

Seb Vettel 101: When faced with the realisation that 10 years after having your F1 driving career crushed to pieces you're finally going to stand on the winners step of the podium - be slutty to distract your colleagues from your impending crisis.

Sidenote, writing about Seb and his developing friendships with the other Mercedes engineers makes me so happy, you cannot even begin to imagine

I was in two minds for the longest time about whether or not to write the podium from Seb's or Lewis' POV, I eventually settled on Lewis because I wanted him to have his "oh wait Seb's kinda hot" moment, because as we know the Mercedes engineers look very good in their champagne sodden shirts.

But before I switched POVs, Lewis in typical Lewis fashion bounds into the cool down room on cloud nine and he manages to lift Seb's spirit just enough that he willingly walks onto the podium of his own free will. And (shockingly) Seb actually has a very nice time. (Mercedes 101: Always listen to James Allison).

As the British anthem ended and the German one began, he went to glance down at his mechanics, but hearing a quiet but definitely there voice singing stopped him. Sure enough when Lewis looked over his right shoulder and peered past Jenson, he could just make out Seb quietly mouthing the words to the German anthem. Lewis quickly looked away, not wanting to make Seb feel embarrassed, and quietly smiled to himself as he inhaled the warm afternoon air and felt the sunshine on his face. ... He set the trophy down so he would have his hands free to applaud Sebastian, who stared at the constructors trophy wide eyed and slightly breathless. He nervously shook the hand of the official who presented it to him, and looked at the trophy for a couple of seconds before his face split into a familiar bright grin, and he lifted it up into the air to the cheers of all his teammates gathered below, and the quiet applause of Lewis a couple of metres away. He was briefly taken aback by just how relieved Sebastian looked.

Something Seb was always meant to be on a podium with a winner's trophy something.

“Alright!” Seb shouted loudly over the podium music as champagne dripped from the tips of his hair. “Fuck, you got me.” Lewis burst out laughing as he turned to face the crowd and sprayed over the edge of the podium fence towards the team before looking back to see Seb wiping champagne from his eyes. Lewis stepped back up to the top step of the podium, and gestured for Sebastian to join him. He hesitated before slowly climbing the podium steps, and accepted the now half empty bottle when Lewis offered it to him. “Have they always been this heavy?” Seb asked once he’d taken a long sip, weighing the bottle in his hands. Lewis just nodded and put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, smiling at him proudly. “Back where you belong mate.” Lewis said quietly looking right into Seb’s eyes, not wanting the other two drivers to hear. Seb choked out a small laugh before he set the bottle of champagne down by Lewis’ feet. His bright blue eyes still wide and sparkling. “Back where we belong.” He pulled Lewis in for a long hug before either of them had the chance to say anything else. They kept their arms round each other’s shoulders as they stood for the podium photograph, before people walked out carrying team caps and microphones and Seb was quietly asked to leave. He quickly shook hands with Jenson and Daniel before jumping down off the podium. “Hey Seb!” Lewis called out, and Sebastian paused as he went to pick up the constructors trophy. “Wait for me?” “I will.” He said with a smile, and Lewis watched as Seb carried the trophy out of view.

I wanted Seb to mis-remember what some parts of being on a podium (the size of the cooldown room, the weight of the champagne bottles etc) so that when he experiences it for real, it sort of shatters the image he had previously held in his mind and he realises that podiums are fun actually!!! And where he and Lewis belong!!!!! (As the author I DID wail out loud when I came up with that piece of dialogue, thanks for asking😭😭😭).

And yes, dear reader, Seb does wait for Lewis because they're just Like That™️ about each other. To which, we finally lead to, Big Revelation 1 of The Rules of Strategy:

“You good?” Lewis asked, putting a firm hand on his shoulder while looking Seb up and down. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Seb nodded with a breathy sigh. “I missed it, standing on a podium.” Seb bit down on his bottom lip and looked down at the floor as his grin grew even wider. His shirt was still soaked through, accentuating the toned muscles of his torso. For some reason Lewis just couldn’t stop looking at Seb while he wistfully glanced out of the window back towards the podium. The way the sun hit Seb’s hair made it look like it was gilded with gold. ... Lewis shook his head, and forcefully pulled his mind back into focus for his post-race media duties, not wanting Jenson or Daniel to see that he was distracted – even though Lewis wasn’t entirely sure just what had briefly confused him.

Seb is hot and this is the hill I will die on.

Lewis, being Lewis, off-screen fixes his brain back into PR mode and then into driver mode for the post-race debrief so he probably tucks that train of thought deep down in his brain where it can't bother him (when it's actually going to be a surprise tool that will help us later).

I loved coming up with and writing this chapter as it's the first shift in the development of Seb and Lewis' relationship. It's definitely still professional and platonic at this stage, but seeds have been planted at the very least on Lewis' side and things are slowly starting to grow.

[ghostwnby]

Ghostwnby's intro post!

Hello everyone! I thought it was about time I wrote a little intro post for this blog. So with that being said, hello! Welcome to my blog!

Some quick facts about me:

- 19

- I'm American

- I use any/all pronouns

- I identify as queer <3

- I am currently hyperfixated on f1 (my fav teams are Redbull [excluding Christian Horner], Mercedes, Aston Martin) but I do love hockey (my fav teams are Boston Bruins, New York Rangers, Pittsburgh Penguins, and Chicago Blackhawks) as well :)

Talking about f1, my top 5 favorite drivers are:

1. Esteban Ocon

2. Daniel Riccardo

3. Sebastian Vettel (+ Lewis Hamilton they are a bonded pair they come as a duo i dont make the rules 💀)

4. Max Verstappen

5. Fernando Alonso

♡♡♡

I really like the rest of the current grid (especially Lance <33) but if I had to share my "bottom" three it would be:

1. George Russell - I'm sorry but something about this man's vibes are extremely off to me and he lowkey scares me 😭😭

2. Pierre Gasly - Same reason as George. He's not as bad but still his vibe is just not it for me 💀

3. Sergio "Checo" Pérez - I'm sorry to all the Checo fans out there but I absolutely hate this man so much. Even before I started watch DTS I hated him. He gives me creepy gross man vibes. I hate it.

♡♡♡

Even though I haven't posted anything in YEARS, I have been getting back into writing fics again.

So with that being said, here is a list I am (or will) write for:

- Sewis

- Maxiel

- Strollonso

- Landoscar

- Charlos

- Yukierre

- George Russell + Alex Albon (idk their ship name??)

- Esteban + Lance (again idk their ship name)

And ones I won't write for:

- lestappen (don't kill me)

- Max/Checo (or any dealing with Checo tbh)

- Carlando (don't kill me 2.0 yall are scary)

- Lando/Daniel

- Charles/Pierre

♡♡♡

Also, my request box is open! I would love to answer any questions/requests you all might have for me 🤭

But before that I want to set a few ground rules.

Here is what I am WILLING to write:

- imagines/oneshots (involving the drivers/ships I listed before)

- fluff

- angst**

- smut**

- Maybe x reader??

**There are limitations to what I am willing to write. (No heavy angst aka any triggering/heavy topics And I will list the restrictions on smut below)

With that being said here is what I'm NOT willing write:

- Anything dealing with the drivers/ships listed earlier

- Again any heavy/triggering topics

- Any type of age play

- Anything that deals with extreme k!nks

- Piss (or anything along that matter)

- Anything problematic (I've seen some insane tags for fics smh)

♡♡♡

I think that's all for now! If I think of anything else or I have any big updates I will definitely update this! Thank you all for reading! I hope you have a wonderful day/night 🥰💕