#fia you're so fucked

[softiedingo]

"No words."

*walks off*

THIS WAS SO KING BEHAVIOR

[li-rheinn]

[vault81]

fav part of phantom liberty is when you tell people you chose Songbird over Reed, and the people that chose reed tell you why you're going to super hell for believing her lies and how she's been manipulating you this entire time as if Reed and Myers haven't been shafting V ten ways to sunday the entire DLC as well

[andromedasummer]

my sister spent a lot of this summer insisting that the regs are tighter and the racing is closer and that red bull really did suffer the consequences of their cheating but this looks like another "regs decide the dominant era" rut f1 has wedged themselves into. this time featuring a bowl of angry uncooked oatmeal slop they dropped into the seat of the car 3rd time in a row

[taasgirl]

blame - driver!reader x grid

summary: driver!reader goes to war protecting her teammate and best friend, max verstappen.

a/n: this is NOT a romance smau!!

liked by user76, user98, and 6, 872, 014 others f1 Following a breach of conditions set by the FIA, Max Verstappen will serve a mandatory community service period.

tagged: maxverstappen1

ynusername just say ya'll can't handle him and move on!!!

user27 be careful y/n, they'll send you too user46 HAHA SHE'S SO REAL

user51 this is so stupid

user90 who decided this???

user75 Okay I understand him getting community service for the Ocon incident, but for swearing?

user21 they're treating max like he's a child

liked by oscarpiastri, redbullracing, and 2, 379, 918 others ynusername unbothered, moisturised, and definitely plotting to overthrow the fia!

tagged: maxverstappen1

user59 My dreams 5 minutes before my alarm:

user61 y/n and max are never beating the platonic soulmates allegations

user87 Get yourself a teammate that fights the FIA on your behalf @/estebanocon

maxverstappen1 I was going to say something nice then I saw the last photo.

ynusername pls still compliment me x

oscarpiastri I agree with the caption

landonorris ur too ashy to be moisturised

view ynusername's story...

caption only the FIA could ruin a beautiful flight @/alex_albon

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, and 1, 256, 280 others ynusername me and bro suiting up to destroy the FIA

tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris

lewishamilton This is why you're my favourite on the grid

ynusername this is why you're the 🐐

oscarpiastri Hey I hope you were joking when you said you'd be turning into a grid terror haha (please be joking)

ynusername don't worry ur safe xx

landonorris WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS Y/N???

landonorris If me and my gang pull up ahh post

ynusername yup you're now my number one target for unironically using 'ahh'

maxverstappen1 I hope I am bro

ynusername there's no one i'd rather serve community service with

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lewishamilton, and 3, 287, 3389 others ynusername don't worry I won't actually replicate crashgate. however, please know that I have free reign over my radio xx

landonorris Thank god u had me scared for a minute

user49 y/n is taking this too far 😭

ynusername oh i can go further if needed

lewishamilton HAHA this is gold y/n

ynusername when I have the praise of sir lewis hamilton then I know that I'm doing something right

user20 OMG Y/N GOING INSANE ON RADIO IS A NEEEED

user91 y/n is the only reason i'm tuning in this weekend

view ynusername's story...

caption: I have some business to attend to this sunday afternoon

liked by user62, user87, and 209, 557 others f1updates Not shy on the radio so far! Y/N on the formation lap, and she'd already quizzing her engineer.

user83 she's so unserious i love her

user90 This is my sign to strictly watch her onboard today

user41 y/n really is going to put on a show huh

liked by user 34, user75, and 1, 722, 981 others f1updates A few of the unhinged thing's Y/N was saying during today's race. Safe to say that she may be sporting a ban for the next race.

user38 her engineer replying with 'affirm' is so fucking funny to me

user92 And ya'll still wonder why she's my fave driver

user47 THE WAY THIS ISN'T EVEN EVERYTHING SHE SAID

user28 what else did she say??

user47 @/user28 she went on a whole tangent about how stroll is a prick that shouldn't be in f1 😭😭

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, and 3, 615, 248 others ynusername FIA knew I'd be too powerful for another race (hey at least bestie doesn't have to do community service).

maxverstappen1 You're insane I love you

ynusername dinner is still on you right?

landonorris NOOOOOO RIP Y/N

ynusername bitch i'm still alive

oscarpiastri Welcome back Kevin Magnussen liked by ynusername

redbullracing She might be crazy, but she's our kind of crazy!

ynusername pls keep me employed ya'll

view landonorris's story...

caption Yes, she still has the helmet on

view maxverstappen1's story...

caption Okay time for us to get to work

eeee i hope you guys liked this, please let me know if you did!

[23victoria]

Passing the Phone

f1 grid x reader

warnings: cussing, unhinged, satire, complete jokes (are they?...), dark humor ig…idk, talk of age gaps, sa allegations, no just kidding...very much reading people to the filth

authors note: lmaoo don’t ask me why i wrote this cause idk…but this is so unhinged 😭😭 please don’t take offense to this and if you do…i said don’t…all jokes i love them, some of them, you can find it funny or you won’t, just wanted to get this out of my drafts

want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist

Video starts with Y/N holding the phone, in selfie mode.

Y/N: I'm passing the phone to someone who had the biggest breakup in F1 history with a blond German boy named Nico.

Lewis: Babe, no!

Y/N: What, too soon? It's been years but okay! Sorry! Okay, let me start again. I'm passing the phone to someone who said "Fuck Mercedes" and is going to Ferrari for 2025!

Lewis: Y/N, no!! You cannot say that! You’re gonna get me in trouble!!

Y/N: Fine, fine, fine. I'm passing the phone to the GOAT of this generation with the most wins in F1 history, yet he was robbed of the championship in 2021.

Y/N passes the phone to Lewis.

Lewis: stares at Y/N then laughs “I'm passing the phone to someone who is known more for his memes than driving skills.”

Lewis passes the phone to George.

George: laughs “Hahaha real funny…I'm passing the phone to someone who took six years to get their first win."

Lando: “Dude, what the fuck?! Fuck you, Woody! I'm passing the phone to someone who's younger than me yet acts years older than me.”

Oscar: “....You're not funny... I'm passing the phone to someone who's most likely losing their seat next season.”

Logan: “The fuck, Oscar! I thought we were friends! Low blow, mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has yet to get P1, yet all his friends who got into F1 after him have won races already.”

Alex: “....And that, Logan, is why you're losing your seat. Mr. What The Fuck is A Kilometer. Anyway, I'm passing the phone to someone who just got brutally murdered by an interviewer on Sky Sports regarding their F1 career, if you could call it that.”

Daniel: “You shouldn’t be talking Mr. I Have No Wins….eat shit…I'm passing the phone to the shortest person on the grid but cusses more than anyone here.”

Yuki: “That interviewer was right, why the fuck do you still have a seat in F1?!! Dickhead. I'm passing the phone to a man with good fashion sense and his teammate might steal his seat.”

Zhou: “Bro….really. I'm passing the phone to someone who acts like he's Australian when he’s not…oh, and his seat is at risk too.”

Bottas: “Yeah, yeah, whatever mate. I'm passing the phone to someone who has enough penalties in just nine races that he can be banned from racing in F1… permanently.

Kevin: “You're so funny, Bottas, hahaha…ha. I'm passing the phone to a dickhead.”

Nico: “Fuck you too asshole. I'm passing the phone to a person who has a shitty ass dad who deserves to be in jail.”

Max: burst out laughing “Ah, no lies told there. I'm passing the phone to someone who only has a seat to protect me from having any real competition…”

You laugh in the background “Oh shit.”

Checo: blank stare “Motherfucker! That just shows your true colors... I'm passing the phone to... who am I supposed to pass it to... uhhh... Y/N.

Takes phone 

Y/N: “Oh, I know! I'm passing the phone to someone who has sexual assault “allegations” against them, but the FIA wants to hide it. I can’t go near him for my safety, so I’ll just turn the camera towards him... *pans the camera to Christian Horner*

Everyone is stunned and silent, then there’s Lewis laughing in the background 

Y/N: “Oh! I have another one! Hey Kelly, “i hear you like them young”, to be more specific at the ripe age of 17... mhmmm, she's a pedoo. What Kendrick say “TRYNA STRIKE A CORD AND ITS PROBABLY A MINNORRRR” *pans the camera to Kelly Piquet*

silence.

Lewis: runs towards Y/N and grabs the camera “Yup, that's enough for today. You're trying to start problems and get people beat up”

Video ends with Lewis taking the phone away from Y/N, shaking his head while laughing.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @magixpracticality @exotic-iris13 @tellybearryyyy @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly

@eoduuung

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

*sooooo……that’s the end….LMFAOOOO, again…DO NOT COME FOR ME…ITS JOKES (is it really though)*

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[astonmartinii]

it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

view all comments

user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others

tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

view all comments

user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

f1

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

view all comments

user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

view all comments

user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

view all comments

user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

view all comments

user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

view all comments

user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

view all comments

user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

[sinofwriting]

Claiming - Max Verstappen (Dark Fic)

Words: 2,231 Summary: In a world where F1 drivers can claim someone as a wife while at a race, here is Max’s version. Note(s): DARK FIC, NSFW. Reader is essentially kidnapped. I’d like to thank lovey on Ko-fi for commissioning this. I had a lot of fun writing this and oh boy did it take a turn I wasn’t expecting. Takes place in 2023. Also, once again thank you to 🦢 anon for this idea and all your thoughts! Claiming wouldn’t be a thing without you.

Charles’ Version

Masterlist | Support Me! 

Since a month ago the emotion she’s felt most is confusion. From the moment a security guard and an FIA official escorted her from the grandstands to the Red Bull garage, to Max Verstappen’s drivers room. From him gently grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it, to the conference room where the FIA official explained things to her and god, she felt like she had only heard every three words, to now.

Max is the source of all her confusion, because he is confusing. He’s aggressive and dominant on track. So clearly hates press and events he’s forced to go to. If he likes you, he likes to make you laugh and make sure you're happy. He’s attentive in a way she didn’t know was possible.

As soon as they were in Monaco after the race, after he claimed her, and she fiddles with the heavy diamond ring on her finger at the thought, he had taken her to the grocery store, claiming that his fridge and pantry were empty since he’d just come home from a triple header. She hadn’t realized then but as they walked through the grocery store he had watched her closely. Watched what shelves she paused at, what brands and items she put in the cart versus the ones she made small faces at. Making a note of them all.

It wasn’t until a few days later when someone came by to drop off groceries and she saw all that all the groceries were things and brands she likes that she started to realized that it’s quietness in the grocery store, him following behind her, hadn’t been him giving her a bit of space, some grace, but rather him making notes of what she likes.

She’s unable to hide anything from him, which is even more confusing, because he doesn’t know her. Had chosen her seemingly on a whim. When she was told why she got taken his driver’s room by the FIA official, she had thought it was some sort of prank, a joke, but as three different binders had been laid out in front of her and proof of everything had been shown to her, had proved that she had been claimed, that she was now married to Max Verstappen the odd, weird, confusing reality had sunk in.

She had honestly figured as she laid awake next to Max that night that she would be just kept at his place for quick relief. Asked to undress and roll or bend over whenever he needed a quick easy fuck along with someone to keep his place clean and cooked meals in the fridge. She hadn’t expected for him to not even touch her like that.

He did however like to look at her like that. Eyes darkening, just a little narrowed as his jaw would sometimes twitch, deep breaths through his nose. But he never touched her like that which made her more confused because he did touch her.

He kissed her hand in greeting, put his hand on her lower back, would sling an arm around her waist, put his arm over her shoulders. He’d make their legs intertwine in bed or practically blanket her with his body when he didn’t have her cuddling into him, head resting on his t-shirt covered chest. Max hadn’t even tried kissing her on the lips despite clearly wanting to with the way he would sometimes stare at them as she talked.

Max Verstappen is confusing.

—

Max knows that he was supposed to claim a wife much sooner than he did. He could have done so the day of his first win, when they pulled him aside and told him that he could. He knows that’s what they wanted. They wanted him to claim a wife, to calm down, to bring a little less negative press to the sport. Luckily it was up to him to decide and there was no way in fucking hell he was claiming a wife. He made that clear in his celebrations with the team and his private words to people about how the FIA could fuck off.

He was also lucky that Red Bull backed his decision. He was their first driver since Mark Webber to get to claim a wife, the youngest in the history of the sport. The FIA couldn’t pressure him into it or punish him for not claiming anyone yet, but they could try and flaunt options for him to choose from. And they did. They did every year at nearly every race until finally the start of the 2022 season happened and there was a number one on his car.

That didn’t mean they stopped during the 2022 season, it was just significantly less than before. And now in 2023, just a few races away from winning his third championship, they hadn’t bothered him at all. The end of Monza marked them never being able to bother him again, he thinks as he watches his wife look at the clothes he had delivered for her. His now three championship trophies somewhat framing her with how she stands in front of the large couch.

They were all in her sizes, some from brands that she already had clothes from and other’s from more luxury brands that he had to be familiar with. She liked the one a lot, her fingers kept going back to the two tops from there, rubbing the fabric. He’ll have to take her to their store after COTA, he muses. The heat in Qatar had been too much for his poor wife and it had even got the better of him.

“Do you like them?” He asks, wrapping his arms around her from behind, relishing in the sharp inhale she gives, the slight sped up breathing. “I do. They are all really nice.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, making a note to not buy her anymore hoodies, or at least buy them for himself and wear them a few times. She had worn so many of his, he figured she’d want one or two of her own, but the hoodie was the only thing her eyes and fingers had not returned to. “Good. I have some jewelry coming for you tomorrow as well.” “Oh, thank you, Max.” “Of course, vrouw.” He smirks at the way her body shivers at the Dutch word for wife.

—

It’s been nearly three months since Monza, since Max claimed her, since she became his wife. Which means it’s been three months since the last time she got off, six months since she last had sex. The sex part she can deal with, but she doesn’t think she’s gone this long without masturbating since she learned what it was and started doing it. And it feels like it’s killing her.

Because Max… Max is handsome. She’s seen tweets and things about how Max is ugly and she can’t even begin to comprehend that. He has some of the bluest eyes she’s ever seen, a nice jaw just barely covered with facial hair, slightly pouty lips and god it kills her that she hasn’t kissed them yet, kissed the freckle that rests on his top left lip. He has broad shoulders, strong arms, large hands, fingers that make her thighs press together when they tap against her hips or press into her. And his thighs. Every time she sees them, whether it’s in shorts or boxers, she can feel herself clench around nothing.

Maybe he wouldn’t affect her so much if he didn’t so clearly want her back. But he does. His eyes more and more frequently watching her, want simmering in them. And he’s never been shy about his morning wood, but instead of tilting his hips away from her, scooting away, or just adjusting her so it’s not pressed against her, now he stays. Lets her choose to move away when she feels him against her.

She never moves away, not until they absolutely have to get up.

She’s reached her limit, however. She constantly feels turned on, a warmth always burning inside of her, sometimes getting stoked to burn a little hotter and she fears that if she doesn’t get off in the next few hours she will jump Max. It’s tempting to just get to it, just lay down and fuck herself quickly, but that won’t leave her satisfied. She needs more than one quick orgasm to satisfy herself and she’s in luck because Max is leaving the house, having been invited to a paddle match.

She accepts the kiss on the cheek he gives her, wishing him good luck and then waits by the front door for a few minutes before turning and nearly rushing to the bedroom. Her arms somehow get tangled in her tank top as she pulls it off and her fingers fumble with her pajama pants and underwear as she tries to push them down. It takes longer than she wants, but finally she’s undressed. There’s an urge to fall onto the bed, but she forces it away, forces herself to take a deep breath as she goes to their closet.

Going to one of her shoe boxes, she lifts the lid, breath shaky as her fingers touch the lace of a La Perla balconette. She had never spent more than seventy dollars on a bra before Max, had privately thought people who spent more than a hundred dollars on scraps of lace and fabric were crazy but as she feels this against her fingers, she understands why people spend so much.

Her fingers are surprisingly steady as she puts on the balconette and matching panties. As she looks at herself in the mirror, hands rubbing at the body, her breath catches. She looked good, hot even. The lace against her skin making her blood rush.

She’s nearly back into the bedroom when she spots the shirt that Max had been wearing to sleep in last night. It’s just barely hanging on the edge of the hamper, about to fall on the floor. Before she can stop herself, she snags it and throws it on, breathing in the familiar and nice smell of Max.

Laying on the bed, she runs her hands over her body, eyes fluttering shut as they go under her shirt. Her breath catches as they trail over her stomach, fingers pausing at the waistband of her panties before moving back. They trace over the lace details of her top, breath catching when the tips of her fingers catch on her pebbled nipples. Moaning as she twists and pulls at them lightly, thighs pressing together.

She continues to play with her breasts, enjoying the feel of them and the lace in her hands. Drawing moans and whines from herself as she squeezes them, pinching and twisting her nipples, grazing her nipples with the tip of her finger. She’s aching for more, her panties damp. Her dominant hand leaves her breast, fingers just about to slip into her panties and there’s a hand clamping around her wrist.

Her eyes fly open, a gasp leaving her. “Max.” Her other hand drops away from her breast. His grip on her wrist tightens, eyes darker than she’s ever seen them. Her name comes out in a near growl. Her tongue darts out, swiping across her bottom lip and Max’s eyes fall to them at the motion and she breaks. “Please. Max, please.” “Please what?” She takes a shaky breath, “Touch me, kiss me. Please, Max.”

It’s like she blinks and he’s on top of her, his hand no longer gripping her wrist but instead gripping at her hip as he kisses her. She moans at the roughness of it, not even noticing him adjusting her until he’s fully in between her legs, one of them hitched around his waist. She only notices when he grinds their hips together, the friction making her break the kiss, panting as her fingers rake over his back.

“Max. Please.” “What vrouw? Am I not kissing you?” He presses a kiss to her neck, over the flutter of her pulse. “Touching you?” He rolls his hips into hers. She throws her head back at the contact. “I want,” a whine leaves her as he dips his head, running his tongue over her still lace covered nipple. “Fuck, Max.” His hand still gripping her at her hip tightens its hold and she hopes he leaves bruises. “What do you want?” “I want,” She nearly loses her train of thought again when grinds into her again. “Want you to fuck me. Please, Max, want you so bad.” He groans, head resting on her chest as he gives a slightly stuttered thrust.

The slight loss of control makes her moan, her other leg moving to wrap around him, encouraging him to grind against her. She wants him. She wants him to touch her everywhere, not leave a single place that hasn’t felt his touch. She wants to feel his breath against her lips, his teeth sinking into her skin. She wants the press of bruises as he holds her tighter than maybe he should. She wants him sinking into her over and over again even though she hasn’t felt it once yet. She wants and wants and she doesn’t think that doing this once, twice, a hundred, a thousand times, will satisfy that want.

[pinkcarsupremacy]

Okay in all the drama of yesterday's race I feel like we overlooked the F1 movie teaser and we need to talk about what the hell was going on in that.

So we start with 60yo racer Brad Pitt telling the audience and uh someone else that their car is beat on the straights by "Red Bull, Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston and now Mclaren" (as an Alpine fan I understand the plight) and that their only chance of beating the other teams is to battle in the turns and I quote "we need to build our car for combat" (never underestimate Americans and their ability to turn something into a war analogy)

After that bizzare statement the following exchange occurs:

Yeah fuck safety!! The FIA is actually involved with the making of this film if you're wondering.

From here on there isn't actually anymore dialogue and it's just a bunch of racing and track team shots set to 'We will Rock You'. It was here that it dawned on me that this movie is gonna be super bizzare. Despite all the noise about them filming on track at live race weekends it never occured to me the other drivers and teams would actually feature in it. I'm not even sure what I thought they were going to do but I assumed it would involve a lot of CGI.

But nope turns out this is actually just a strange self-insert film where an 11th team featuring 60yo Brad Pitt and his younger teammate will compete against real F1 drivers? The $300 million budget is starting to make sense - maybe they had to pay the other drivers a salary. I think one glaring problem with this is that it means there won't be other characters in the movie (excluding team members of the fake team) because the other drivers and team members are uh real people? Now that would be fine if it was a biopic like Rush where everyone are actors but here we have 2 actors and 20 real drivers (who are quite literally at work btw) and any interaction between them and the actors is gonna break the immersion of the film so badly.

Sidenote here's one of the Apex cars abusing a Williams - not the kind of behaviour that endears me to either of the fake drivers ngl. Probably should have picked a more disliked team to clown on.

Now I actually went and read an interview with the 2 directors to try and work out what is going on. At one point in this interview, Jerry Bruckheimer says: "It’s the only sport where your teammate is also your competitor, and that’s great drama in itself. Just think about that; you’re fighting with your own teammate for a place on the podium. And everything we use in the movie actually happened in an F1 race. Nobody can say: ‘That would never happen.’ It happened."

So in other words the teammates will fight and it will be based on real life events? Yeah unfortunately I'm getting Perez and Ocon in Force India vibes from that (those 2 shots pretty similar huh).

There was also this in the interview which is... I mean I don't really know what to take from this but it's certainly interesting. As an Ocon fan this quite literally strikes fear into my heart (why was he of all drivers named...) but we'll have to wait and see I guess.

[vivwritesfics]

Hi my love 🫶🫶🫶🫶

First of all, love you

Second of all LANDO FUCKING NORRIS WON THIS FUCKING RACE

I was having a heart attack from the second he took the lead until he finished it lol

SO IN HONOUR OF THIS ICONIC WIN

Lando and reader celebrating his win in miami and just fluff and cuteness

And bonus of kiss on camera (bonus bonus points if they are not kinda public? Like nit very out there with pda and lando jaut not giving a fuck and damn near make out, maybe one of those cute ones where they pumps nose??)

I AM SO HAPPY 😭😭🫶🫶❤️❤️🥹

She leapt over the barrier. Yeah, you're not supposed to do that, but nobody was stopping her. Several members of the McLaren team helped her to get over the barrier (because God knows she couldn't have done it on her own).

Lando didn't notice at first, too busy getting congratulated by Daniel. But, when he turned himself around to pump his fist at the crowd, she was there. She was running towards him.

His arms were open in just enough time for her to run into them. Suddenly they were jumping, spinning in a circle as they jumped up and down.

"You did it! You did it! You did it!" She cried through tears.

She looked at her boyfriend, her F1 race winner boyfriend! This was something he'd been wanting for so fucking long now, since before they'd met. And, after 110 races, 15 podium and five fucking years, it finally happened.

She kissed him. Not caring much about the cameras on him, she grabbed his sweaty face and pulled it towards her own, full on kissing him in front of the cameras. She pulled away just slightly, but Lando was pulling her back, nose bumping against her own as his tongue licked into her mouth.

(It was certainly unprofessional, certainly too much for Formula One).

But they didn't take it further than that. Lando's face was red when he pulled away, and he could see the embarrassment written on her own. Tears were in her eyes as she smiled at him and Lando pulled her into his chest.

He held her there as she cried happy tears against his chest. Lando turned towards the crowd, his arm around her, keeping her hidden as she cried. But she was just so damn happy. He pumped his fist and the crowd cheered.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"This one's for you, baby," he whispered.

But there wasn't a chance for them to say much else to each other. A steward or FIA official or whoever was pulling her away so that Lando could get weighed and taken to the cool down room, and get his trophy.

She was there, screaming up at the podium as he got his trophy. Her heart was in her mouth when he threw it into the air. And, as he was doused with champagne, Max and Charles concentrating their spray of champagne, she'd never been so proud of him.

[ardently-queer]

FIA WOULD DO THIS HE'S JUST THIS PETTY

Galemancing druid!Tav who wildshapes into a pigeon every time they see a statue of Mystra

[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n claims to hate Oscar and be constantly annoyed by him, but is the first to comfort Oscar when something bad happens

this is so me core. you are inside my mind anon, ily.

tw: fem!reader, swears, reader takes a trip to egypt to visit a famous river! lmk if you want me to add anything. kinda half proof read ig.

w/c: 863

you were unsure why mclaren even invited you to their garage anymore, after all you did was say how much you hate their australian driver. you never shut up about how much he annoys you and how he constantly thinks he's the shit when he's not. the other mclaren driver has teased you multiple time for never shutting up about him. "for someone who claims to hate him, you're constantly yapping on about him." comes along with that stupid teasing smirk and you then think that the mclaren drivers are your least favourite on the grid.

but by some miracle, you were invited to watch the austrian grand prix with the famous papaya. the free practise and sprint had gone amazingly for the two young drivers. of course it had, the team was on fire at the moment and was getting everything right.

coming off the back of a double podium in the sprint for the boys, they had the race qualifying. now as much as you claimed to hate oscar you could admit that he was a pretty great driver, especially for his second year in f1.

you watch as both of the brightly coloured cars race around the track, their times through q1 and q2 were amazing, but max was just a step above. if mclaren were flying then god knows what max was doing.

you watch as the cars return to the garage and prepare for the most important of them all, q3. lando rushes over to give you a high five which, although it confuses you a little, you are quick to respond. you stay clear of oscar who watches the interaction from his side of the garage. you take your protective headphones off to chat to lando for a second before his race engineer is quick to steal him away. you leave oscar alone as you wait for the beginning of q3.

your headphones are back on as q3 starts. you watch as the cars take their turns racing around the track. you feel like your heart has sunk down to your stomach as you watch the orange enter the pits, before leaving again soon after. as the qualifying comes to close, you are embarrassed to say that as you seen oscar's name slip into second place, right in between lando and max, you felt ecstatic. you would never tell anyone though.

just as that feeling was about to settle in your guts for the rest of the day, it's ripped away from you harshly. or ripped away from oscar, you should say as seconds later his lap time is deleted for exceeding track limits. you feel a burst of anger and frustration race through you as you watch the screens and see his name slide down to seventh. you felt like crying so you could not imagine how oscar felt. you knew it was the sport but god the fia got on your tits sometimes.

you watch as max, lando and george converse with each other waiting for their interviews and you feel bitter as fuck. that should've been oscar. speaking of him, you see his papaya race suit, with that all too familiar helmet walking into where the fia worked to speak with him. you watch as the camera man follows him halfway then retreats. you want to find oscar so badly, you don't think you can wait until he's out of there.

around ten minutes later you catch sight of him, probably heading towards another interview. you head over to him and watch as he retells his feelings to another reporter, explaining how it was from the drivers point of view.

once you are sure he is finished with his interviews you pull him aside to a quiet corner of the mclaren garage, semi-private. it is was as private you could get with cameras all around the place.

"you alright?" you whisper to the boy. oscar's eyebrows jump up in surprise as you ask him about how he is feeling, the question very unexpected from you seeing how much you tell everyone how much he annoys you.

"yeah, nothing i can do about it now. fia have done what they thought was right even though i don't agree. just have to do my best tomorrow to improve on that." oscar tells you, his back straight and tense. you frown, if he was trying to hide his feelings he was failing miserably. the australian was an open book to you. you hum, clearly not believing his response.

"why don't we go somewhere where isn't a shitload of cameras and you can tell me how you really feel?" you ask, voice soft and kind. it's the first time oscar has been on the receiving end of this kindness and it makes all the screws click into place in his brain. the boy grins at you.

"please. that would be great." his smile is enough to make you smile as you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, walking alongside him to the driver rooms. you might have done a good job hiding your feelings from everyone else but oscar was smarter than you gave him credit for.

[bellawrites-kinda]

a change in rules ; l.h.

summary: we all know the FIA allowed lewis to wear his earrings and nose ring during his races, but what if him saying that he has another piercing somewhere else wasn’t a joke?

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, oral sex ( f receiving ), unprotected sex, size kink kinda, breeding kink ( ? ), a lil bit of possessiveness if you squint

word count: 1132

a/n: i saw a tiktok ab this & went to google a bit about it and like

he did say it was a joke but yknow... what if !? also it does say that he wanted them to think that he had his balls pierced but i'm thinking more of a dick piercing like at his tip so... also this is pretty bad, i'm kinda new to writing but i tried !! so yeah i hope y'all like it, constructive criticism is appreciated 🫶🏼

-

you traced the outline of his tattoos, the dim lighting of your shared room making them ever so prominent. i love your tattoos so much, and your piercings too hands trailing down to rest on his toned abs, you focused your attention back on him

he smiled at you, and you felt the swarm of butterflies appear in your stomach. despite having been together for a year now, you always found yourself getting flustered over everything he did, from complimenting you, to merely going about his daily activities. he was your everything, and you were his.

i’m glad you like them he broke the silence, moving to press his lips against the skin of your neck i want to get more piercings, but i don’t think the FIA would be particularly fond of that, so his voice trailed off, now sucking on your neck lew... i thought you said you were tired- your voice cut off as you inhaled sharply, back arching off the bed slightly at his unrelenting mouth harshly sucking on your skin. he seemed desperate, desperate to mark you as his.

i missed you so much, baby. he murmured, voice low. missed your smile, missed your pretty face, missed this gorgeous body of yours, i missed all of you. the admission made your head spin, and you felt arousal flood your senses.

baby... we can do this tomorrow, it's late, you just got back, you need rest. you tried to stop him as his hands smoothed over the skin of your hips, the skimpy nightgown riding up. i've gone months without you, love, i can't take it anymore, please the desperation in his raspy voice was your downfall, stripping yourself of the nightgown and pulling him into a heated kiss. fuck.. you're so pretty he almost groaned as he positioned himself above you. your eyes rolled back as he kissed his way down your body, pressing wet, hot kisses on the inside of your thighs.

enough teasing lew, please you whined, getting impatient. please what baby, what do you want me to do he asked cockily, want you to eat me out, please you were practically begging. god, the effect this man had on you, the control he had over your body.

so polite he chuckled, before he shoved his head between your thighs, a few stray braids falling to frame his face. a high pitched moan left your throat as he sucked on your clit the same way he did your neck. fuck, yes, right there your eyes screwed shut as he slipped two fingers into you.

the combination of his mouth and fingers was heavenly, and considering you'd gone 2 whole months without feeling his touch, you were close already. baby, 'm close you managed to pant out in between moans.

your eyes flew open as he pulled away. want you to come on my cock he murmured, licking his fingers clean. you sat up, hands moving to pull his boxer-briefs off, his cock slapping his abs gently. you practically drooled as you wrapped your hand around the base. but what you saw was something you definitely didn't expect. your mouth fell open as you reached to gently smooth your finger over his pierced tip. you like it? he asked tentatively. i fucking love it, lew. oh my god you were breathless, awestuck by the way the piercing made his pretty cock even prettier.

you're so fucking hot my god... you praised before wrapping your lips around his tip, the cool metal of the piercing coming into contact with your tongue. but before you could take him deeper into your mouth, he'd pulled you off. need to be inside you he explained hastily as he practically manhandled you so that you were once again laying under him.

oh fuck the groan that left his lips as he pushed into you was nothing short of filthy. so fucking tight he breathed. fuck lew, please, i need more. you couldn't recognise your own voice, your brain was foggy from the pleasure coursing through your veins. he obliged, cock easily slipping all the way in you. he paused momentarily, giving you time to adjust to the sheer size of him.

you wrapped yourself around his body, hands resting on his back, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer. a silent request for him to start moving. his thrusts were fast and hard, slamming his cock deep into you, and pulling out, leaving only his tip in you before slamming back in again.

the sounds the two of you were making was nothing short of filthy. your moans and his groans, the sound of skin against skin. you clenched around him when his fingers circled your clit harshly. lew i'm close, you gasped out. come for me baby, come all over my cock. his voice was strained. your walls spasmed as you came, back arching off the bed.

even then, he didn't stop, his thrusts only getting faster. his free hand moved to grab your hip, his grip so tight you were sure there would be a bruise there tomorrow. a sharp gasp left you as he lifted your hips slightly, the change in angle only making him slip even deeper into you.

you close again already princess? i can feel you clenching around me. he chuckled, a hint of mock lacing his voice. you couldn't form words anymore, anything you tried to say came out as a moan or a whine. i've got you baby, just let go he soothed. you could feel his movements faltering as they became sloppier.

want.. want you to cum in me you managed to stutter out. yeah? you want me to breed you? fuck a baby into you? you only managed a nod in response before you felt ropes of his warm cum fill you up, the sensation triggering your own orgasm. your walls clenched tightly around his cock, milking his cock dry.

your body was limp as he pulled out of you, lying beside you. so, when did you get it the question slipped out as soon as you'd caught your breath. i've been thinking about it for a while, got it a month and a half ago he chuckled. what happened to the FIA not being happy, hm? you teased i don't care if they like it or not, i mean, if they stop me from racing because of it, then so be it. you smiled at his response, wrapping your arms around him and shutting your eyes.

you do like it, right? he questioned nervously after some time. i love it. you reassured, pressing a kiss to the piercing on his nose. he only hummed, cuddling closer to you as the both of you slipped into a deep sleep.

[pampushky]

ive been watching him for my entire life

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 1 - 6.1k

TW: Scene of attempted SA, and the abuser never referred to by name. Sexism (but in the A/B/O sense). Self-harm and depressive episodes.

Themes: Exploration of what disabilities, PTSD, and chronic pain look like in the A/B/O world. If you have input about what that may look like, dm me. Slow burn. So much so you're not sure if it's even burning at times.

also yeah Loscar is canon it's my au I can do what I fucking want

Leave your feedback in the comments/feel free to dm me about that shit if you don't feel comfy dropping an anon or comment.

next part | masterlist | series masterlist

Mid January. 2024 Paris.

The hallway outside the trial room in the FIA headquarters is deceptively calm. Silent, save for the voices in the room behind you. You’d given your statement. Explained everything that had happened during your past two years at Williams, first with Nicholas Latifi, and then with Logan. Trying to do something with a car that was, in the kindest words, a tractor. Logan sits beside you, with a similar thousand-yard stare, just disassociating into space. Trying to trace the pattern of the carpet. 

“I should have been more— more perceptive,” Logan croaks, and you squeeze his hand, and shake your head. “Jesus. I— I tried to tell them everything. Everything I remembered from before–-”

“Thank you,” your voice is faint. Weak. Unlike you.

“Of course,” Logan squeezes your hand. You squeeze it back. “Always.”

You still remember the pit wall. Having to brush against his elbows occasionally. Knowing he did it on purpose some days, trying to provoke you. Going so far as to send you things coated in his scent when you were in heat, to try and provoke a bond sickness. Saved only by your brothers, curled close to you, letting you sleep in their arms as your fever raged. You were lucky your heats weren’t— weren’t consistently like that. More so just like a terrible fever and migraine, thanks to your medication. 

One pill to keep you from entering a real heat, morning. Two pills to help ease the brain fog from your head injury, morning and night. Another single pill to be taken whenever the pain gets too bad for you to function, any time of day. Anxiety medication, morning. Hormonal amplifiers to make up for the scent glands damaged by the fire all those years ago, morning and night. Scent blockers to mask your scent, morning. In total eight pills a day at your worst, perhaps nine.  

You croon nervously, despite knowing you’re safe here. That just inside the room behind you, past the heavy oak doors, are your grandfather and your uncles brothers. They’d never let anything happen to you. Not again. 

His elbow brushing against yours during the last lap of the race, encouraging Alex, despite his pace and his spot on the grid. Logan thanking you for being his engineer and friend during everything. You sit along the pit wall, silently, as celebrations rock the grid, and he appears in front of you, trying to make small talk, before following as you try to escape it, not wanting to talk to him, even as he looms behind you. His grip on the back of your neck, smothering the only bond you had, to Niki, to your pack. 

The near-toxic scent smothers you because of how close he is. Pushing you behind a stack of tires as you try to fight back, baring your teeth and thrashing while he manages to shove a need into your upper thigh, right through your pants. You yelp, and kick, trying to get any attention towards you, while most of the garage is empty. You feel him tearing at the collar of your shirt, ripping at it, pushing you into the tires. You bring your head into his nose, feeling the gush of blood against your face as he squeals and falls backward a few steps. 

You can’t smell anything besides his blood on your face, the metallic scent making you gag. When he turns to look at you, his face stained red, you growl, your lips drawn back over your teeth, trying to edge along the wall to get away from him. 

With a snarl, he leaps at you, pinning you to the wall, both hands wrapped around your neck, cutting off your airway. You thrash, and just as you think you’re going to pass out, the weight of his hands disappears from your neck. You stay where you are, leaning against the wall. Watching as Logan snarls furiously, pinning the other Alpha to the ground with ease, his long canines bared and coming close to the man’s neck, threatening to tear and rip and end whatever pathetic life he lived—

“I should have done more,” Logan leans down, his head in his hands. 

“You almost killed him,” you whisper, and that seems to startle the driver even more. “You almost killed him. I think that’s enough.”

The two of you sit in silence until Logan’s lawyer and his manager leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. For the brief moment that the doors are open, you hear him screaming his voice hoarse as the judgment comes ever closer. 

“The FIA won’t be pressing any charges,” The lawyer says softly while Logan continues to keep his head down. “Neither will—”

“Don’t say his name,” Logan looks up, interrupting the lawyer before he can even say something. There’s a fire in his words, a rare fury. “Don’t. I don’t— she doesn’t—”

“I apologize, I forgot about that.” The lawyer says, glancing over to look at you. You look presentable now. Nothing like the blurry images the paparazzi had gotten of you without any of your makeup to hide all the burns. Your skin looks more even, the uneven bumps and indents from the mottled scarring across your jaw partially hidden by concealer and foundation. The scars get more severe as they cross your upper cheek and the top of your nose. That’s the only part that’s harder to hide, even when you’ve covered it fully in makeup. 

“It’s time to go, Logan,” 

He looks at you with uncharacteristic panic. He’s the opposite of most alpha stereotypes. You’re glad Oscar’s found his way back to him, and that you’ve gotten to witness the sweet courtship start. He pulls you into a tight hug, and that’s when you finally crumble.

“You’re gonna be okay without me,” You whisper, voice shaking. “You’re gonna be fucking fantastic, Lo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Is all he can murmur, practically folding over you and holding you closer. “Maybe if I—”

“It’s okay. I’ll still be on the grid.”

“But it won’t be the same,”

“No. It won’t,” You choke out, as Logan pulls away. Both of you newly aged by the experience. You won’t be there to defend Logan from James. Logan won’t be there to understand the odd homesickness for a country you only partially remember, stuck between European and American. 

You feel small as Logan is led away by his manager and lawyer. His scent fading as the seconds turn to minutes, and then suddenly an hour has passed. Leaving you alone in the hallway until your brothers can get there. By the time they do arrive (two hours later), you’ve been chewing on your fingers and palms enough to make them bleed. Mathias and Lukas know you well enough to have already brought bandages and towels to help clean and treat the new wounds. Before this, you’d not been chewing or clawing at yourself for nearly a year and a half. Your therapist had looked devastated when you’d turned in the little chip she’d given you for not self-harming. 

There’s screaming from inside the room, before Niki bursts out, snarling a remark over his shoulder before he catches your eye, and softens. Your sire, despite his age, despite the fact that he has been told by his doctor many times that he needs to calm down, to be kinder to his aging body and new kidney, despite everything that should be holding him back, bends to knock his forehead against yours. One of his hands comes to the nape of your neck, softly rubbing the paternal bond he’d left there, claiming you as his child rather than a descendant. 

“Maus,” The feel of his scarred hands is familiar, comforting. His scent is even more so. Like spruce trees and slightly burnt sugar. Looking at you with red-rimmed irises that show his designation, his secondary sex, while he looms over you protectively. He sees the new bandages around your hands and the new bulkiness of your sleeves. 

“Oh, Maus…” Niki leans down, and croons 

If he wasn’t in active recovery from the kidney transplant, he’d likely be curling around you in his wolf form, just as he had done when you were little and first placed in his care after—

“You’re safe here. You’re safe.” 

It’s moments like this that you’re glad that your sense of smell was so destroyed after the fire. You’re grateful that you could only catch the faint scent of those within a small area around you. Because all you can smell is your father, your sire, who would burn the world down for you if it meant making you smile. That Mathias and Lukas— your brothers, not uncles, never uncles, too close to be considered just uncles to you— mark a silent guard beside you, Lukas in canine form, letting you hide your face in his dusty blond-brown fur. Mathias stands silently beside you, but with his hand held tightly in yours.

Memories of your first moments with them. The terror. Sleeping in the pillow forts and nests you’d built up until this very point in time. Always your guardians. Always by your side. In the hospital and beyond. 

You’re chewing on your thumbnail, claw extended, and Niki looks at you with a worried gaze, before softly reaching over and squeezing your shoulder.

The door opens again, and you hear shouting in a voice that haunted your dreams from within the room and then more of it, very quickly coming in your direction. Not the exit that you’d been told he would be made to use when the judgment was finally placed. 

You can just barely catch a whiff of the scent— overpowering and choking you as you tried to work, tried to examine all of the strategies that could help Logan succeed in last year’s car while the scent makes it hard to think, to breathe— before it’s nearly upon you entirely, with the Alpha who had made your past two years with Williams utter hell staring down at you, enraged, trying to push past your brothers to get to you, snarling and snapping at you as Niki shoves you forcefully behind him. 

“Tell them— tell them you accepted my courtship! You wanted this—”

Two officials start to drag him away. But you can still remember his scent. How weak he’d made you feel when you were trying to work on the car. Hating how he had purred and crooned with your every movement. Making sure you were always choking on his scent. Lukas rumbles in anger beside you, rising to stare down the man, hiding you from further view with his giant body. But of course he continues. 

“You accepted my gifts! You wanted this—”

No. You hadn’t wanted any of this. You’d just wanted to work on the cars. To help your friend grow and achieve. 

“As if anyone else would have you—”

Mathias snarls, and you can only pray that your grip on his hand is enough to stop him from lunging at the offending man.

“— you useless, crippled omega—”

Niki lunges this time, snarling, the old man’s frankly colossal canine form pining him to the ground with ease. Your sire's teeth just millimeters from tearing his throat out, stopped only by your panicked whine. Such a rare noise from you. You won’t have those you care about kill this man, this weak excuse for an Alpha. You don’t want to think of the heavy scent of his blood when you’re near them, seeking comfort from your family.

“Get him out of my sight,” Niki groans, when just a second later, court officers charge from the room. His canine form melts away, and he huffs, sitting down in one of the stiff chairs with a wince that you are hyper-aware of. Mathias looks at you with deep worry in his eyes. But you’re numb. Watching him get dragged away. Your thigh twinges from where he’d stabbed you with the needle. Part of it had broken off inside of you, removed at the hospital while the FIA officials tried to smooth things over. 

It twinges again when the verdict is read as you’re gently shuffled back into the room. He’s not allowed back in. It’s been shown he can’t control himself. 

“—Guilty on all counts, and shall be henceforth blacklisted from employment by all motorsports under the jurisdiction of the FIA. Omega Lauda shall be awarded a sum off—”

All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears as you hold your arms tightly. Claws slowly sinking into the fresh bandages and redoing all the damage your brothers had worked so hard to fix.

Early February 2024. Woking. 

Lando knows he’s a big deal. He’s one of the most popular drivers, with a rabid fanbase that was willing to go to bat for him for just about anything, even when he was the one at fault. Edits were made when he so much as breathed. All that he doesn’t have is that elusive first win, but he has a feeling this season will be different. Be it how refreshed he feels after spending some time back in his childhood home with his parents and siblings, just to spend time as a pack for the first time in several years, all six of them together. 

His family is perfect. An alpha and omega set of parents, with two alphas and two omegas for pups, all rather successful. His brother, a former world champion in kart racing, now with a loving mate and the cutest pup in the world. His sister, a showjumper quickly rising through the ranks. All successful and perfect and beautiful. Lando can’t help but puff his chest out a bit, because that’s his pack. 

There’s an odd buzz in the air when he arrives, and through the giant glass windows, he can see how many people are gathered in the building, all wearing bright orange. As he comes closer, the overflowed parking has been filled. He parks his car in his specific spot, right next to Oscar, who’s already there, just not by his car. He’s just about ready to head to the on-site cafe when Andrea pops out of nowhere to drag him by his arm somewhere, cursing slightly.

“Mate— what’s got you in such a mood—” Lando whines, already feeling like the team principal is doing way too much this early in the morning. 

“Did you not read any of your emails or texts?” Andrea hisses, the Beta turning on his heels to grab Lando by both his shoulders, looking straight into the young driver’s eyes with a fury only seen when he’d been messing around in the garage and nearly broke the experimental back wing during testing in the summer. “Lando Norris, I could gut you right now—”

“What did I do?” Lando whines again, high-pitched and childish, and Andrea runs his hands down his face, cursing fluently in Italian, while also asking the Virgin Mary for patience, based on how many times he hears a hail mary tumble past the team principal’s lips. 

“You’re late. An hour late. Oscar, Zak, and I have been calling you for nearly that entire time and you’ve been silent.”

“...Late for what?” Lando utters. His phone had been dead, constantly forgotten to get plugged into the charger. Today had been no different. 

“O Maria, dammi la pazienza e la forza— your new race engineer is being introduced? Today?”

“What?! But I don’t even know who he is—”

“It’s a she, first of all, and maybe you’d know if you checked your emails—”

The conversation must be attracting attention, because soon, Oscar is also by his side, looking mildly disappointed in the older man. The omega’s scent has just the hint of rotting oranges, but other than that, it’s normal, like seasoned salt, charcoal, and oranges. 

“Wonderful first impression, really. She’s already thrilled to not have gotten to talk to you yet,” Oscar chimes in, and Lando groans, sending a withering glare in his direction that just bounces off of the Australian. “Now you just get to improvise your way through a panel about how excited you are to be working with her.”

“I don’t even know who she is!” Lando finally barks, his scent turning a bit panicked. It’s like a thunderstorm and a hot, dry heat, smelling how burnt food tastes.

“Mate, you’re fucking kidding me—,” Oscar starts, only to be interrupted by a polite cough behind Lando. 

“She is right behind you, Mr. Norris,” The voice is monotone. Icy. Damn near robotic. And he knows it immediately because you’re the current star of most engineering circles around the grid and the damn talk of every single person they’d interviewed to replace Will when it became clear Lando needed a change. You’d managed to pull decency and consistent points into Williams of all teams. It baffles him, honestly. How you’d managed that, he has no idea, but he assumes it’s through pure spite and fury.

You’re styled elegantly, with a tailored set of pleated, pale gray slacks and a cozy-looking, chunky knit black sweater, tucked into the top of your pants. Black dress shoes. Somehow, the slacks don’t even look bulky, cinching high on your waist, and it’s flattering how slimming the entire outfit is, despite all the known laws of fashion saying that this shouldn’t be such a flattering look. The neck of the sweater is in a mock style, clearly giving the statement of a private individual, hiding any possible claiming bonds. Your hair is in a perfectly messy but neat braid down your back, with two long pieces pulled from the top to slightly frame your face. 

So plain. But elegant.

Everything about you sets Lando off a bit. And he doesn’t know why. But you just tilt your head at him. As if he’s some puzzle for you to fix. It doesn’t help that he can’t get even a trace of your scent. Only the sterile odor that came with cleaning supplies and medicine. Almost like you’re on heavy medications or that you sleep in a hospital. It unnerves him. Lando’s heard a few rumors that you’re an alpha, and that you simply want to smell that way so as to not be assigned a certain stereotype or intimidate anyone.

After all, word on the grid was you left Williams because of how they’d handled the situation between the other race engineer and the anonymous omega colleague who’d been assaulted. 

So you at least had morals. 

“Oscar had mentioned you were…. A bit lax.” You murmur, icy eyes flicking up and down his form, your tone impassive and your stance closed off. “I hadn’t imagined you would be this bad, though.” 

“I’m actually quite good, normally.” 

“About checking your email and phone? Or should I put a tracker on you?” 

“Hilarious.” 

“I’m aware I am.” You say so dryly, so bluntly, that Lando feels one of his eyes twitch as a stylist manages to help pull him together to look somewhat presentable using the wardrobes saved. You just talk softly with Oscar the entire time, a fond look in your eyes as you talk to the Omega driver. 

Right. Logan. Oscar. You’d been Logan’s engineer before. You’d probably gotten to know Oscar through that. When Lando’s finally presentable enough, the stylist makes a final adjustment to your outfit by quickly weaving an orange ribbon around the end of your braid. 

“...I will not be wearing this when I am working,” you examine the ribbon, frowning. “You’re lucky to have me in this now.”

“What, don’t like papaya?”

“No. Red is better.” You just murmur, still frowning at the ribbon, before letting it go. “Vati won in red. All three times.”

“Well, change is inevitable,” Lando fakes a sigh, and this makes you scowl. “I like the orange better, anyway.”

“You’ve yet to win, anyway,” You dismiss his comment with a simple wave of your hand, and go to follow Zak out onto the stage, leaving Lando a bit baffled. Oscar just snickers, patting him on the back and leaving the Brit scrambling to follow the both of you. 

The press conference goes immaculately. You’re the darling of the media, who seem to love how dry you are with every single answer. Just like Niki had been, even when you border on insulting most of the journalists asking the question. You look about ready to choke yourself with the wire of the microphone in front of you when someone asks you your opinion on Rush. 

“She thinks McLaren looked better in red,” Lando grins, looking at you with a mischievous grin. 

“McLaren had more wins in red.” You say bluntly, causing laughter to erupt. Lando’s ears turn pink. “We shall see if that is to change.”

He’s quiet for the rest of the press conference, until…

“Any statement on why you left Williams?”

You go rigid. Just for a second. And from where you sit beside him, Lando catches just the tiniest scent of anxiety on you, under all the sterile, medicinal odor that permeates the air around you. 

“....I thought that was obvious,” You mumble into the mic, before clearing your throat. “I, ah, don’t take kindly to anyone— especially someone who was considered my partner— trying to take advantage of someone. So.” 

There’s a tremor to your voice, barely detectable. And under the table, you’re squeezing your knee. Your hand shakes as the question repeats in your mind. Any statement on why you left Williams? The crowd is suddenly not safe. As he looks at you from every face, every set of eyes now staring at you, even when you know he’s not there. There’d been heightened security, Andrea and Zak had promised that. Oscar was here, already with a nest in his private suite at the factory, prepared for you to crash in when the press conference was over. You try to speak, to play the part of the stoic Alpha the grid has assigned to you, but your tongue is dry in your mouth. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement in the back of the crowd. Your hindbrain croons, and you feel yourself fighting off the urge to turn canine, to simply burst from the stage and run towards where you know is safe. He’s not there, Zak promised. He will never be anywhere near you again. 

You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe—

“What a stupid fucking question,” Lando blurts out, a snarl in his voice. “It’s obvious why she left. She has morals and doesn’t tolerate that kind of shit. Ask a proper question or fuck off,” 

Zak calls an end to the press conference quickly after, and you make your way off stage quickly, retching into a trashcan the moment you’re hidden from the cameras and watching eyes. Oscar is beside you, stroking your back, trying to comfort you, as he had that first night, curled beside you in your own nest while Logan sits on guard at the entrance to the room. Making sure that he won’t be there to find you. Even when he is being held by the FIA and local authorities for investigation, and Niki is already on a private jet to make sure you’re okay. You’re not in the hotel room in the UAE, you’re in Woking. 

“Fucking stupid twats,” Lando spits, as he walks off stage, and nearly misses the fact that you’re puking. It’s almost comical how he does a double take, and scrambles over to you. “Shit, are you good?”

“No,” you say dryly, head still in the trash can. “But— thank you, for your defense.” 

“Yeah— I— I’m assuming you knew, the omega. The one affected, I mean.” Lando babbles, and it dawns on you briefly that Lando doesn’t know. 

The only people who do know are just Zak and Andrea— it’d been a big part of the negotiations around you being hired— and of course, Oscar, who you’d called the first night after presenting. You’re partially thankful for that, because then it means that even fewer know your designation. He really hadn’t checked any of his emails. 

“You could say that.” You mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Oscar’s partially frozen, until he just continues to comfort you, wordlessly understanding that you don’t want to tell Lando. “We— we were close.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Please pass the message on that what they experienced— fuck, man, it’s fucking inexcusable—” Lando runs a hand through his curls, clearly stressed by the entire incident that had just happened at the press conference. So you keep your mouth shut, and clap him on the shoulder. Trying to act like the Beta or Alpha he thinks you are. 

“Enough about that. They’re— they got rewarded enough money to retire. They’re doing fine. Good therapist. Good house. Service dog to keep them safe.”

Your voice sounds so empty, but it’s not a lie. You’d been given enough money to quit nearly three times over. And you’d used it to start the search for a service dog that could help you with deep pressure therapy and watch your back in the garage. You’d needed a new one anyway, after your old dog had to be retired around a year ago. You’d needed one, doctor’s orders, to help you with you nearly-destroyed sense of smell, and the fact that you’re now deaf in one ear. 

“That’s—that’s good, at least,” Lando mumbles, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

An awkward silence stretches between you and the driver for what feels like hours, but is likely only seconds. He’s unconvinced. You know it. Oscar knows it. But frankly, Lando seemed to understand that questioning you right now is the least of his concerns. 

“What about a tour of the factory?” Oscar buts in, killing the silence just when you feel like you have to say something. Always the peacekeeper. Always the savior. “It could— could give you time to get to know each other.”

“No time for that, unfortunately,” Zak interrupts softly, uncharacteristic of his normal behavior. He refrains from touching you at all. Which you can’t help but be thankful for— already so different from Williams, and the disconnected behavior of the board. 

Had he heard the conversation? Did he understand what you were trying to pass off to Lando, at least for the time being? A glance in his direction as you brush yourself off reveals nothing. 

“Time for… a quick meeting. Just to get to know everyone better.” 

“I want to be there,” Oscar looks at the CEO, just as Andrea rejoins the group, looking a bit exhausted, after dealing with what would likely be a bit of a PR issue. 

“You were going to anyway.” Andrea sighs, rubbing his temple. “Shall we?” And you're whisked into a spacious conference room, decorated with the portraits of champions and drivers all around you.

McLaren is…. Interesting. Leagues different from Williams, as you’ve come to realize. It seems that every step further into the orange-hued team leads you further to this conclusion. It’s mostly discussions of the next month’s schedule, as it heads into the new year of testing before the season starts. You look at the calendar, making notes varying from calling Lando to be sure he’s awake at least two hours before anything starts, to avoid any issue like today happening, to then buying a mini fridge for your office to keep your food. 

“And about this morning,” Lando says bashfully, smiling at you in a way that shows he’s used to getting away with things like that, “Won’t happen again. My phone was dead, and—”

“Correct, it won’t happen again.” You say bluntly, and look at him over your laptop, before closing it. Inadvertently, your claws come out, and you start to pick at the edge of the table. An old nervous tick you've never gotten rid of. “It was unacceptable, and shows a severe lack of discipline on your part.” 

The table goes silent. Oscar is clearly trying not to laugh. Andrea and Zak look surprised by your chilly tone. 

“I mean, I suppose,” Lando says, frowning a bit at how blunt you are. 

“There is no ‘I suppose’, there is the truth.” You lean forward over the table to look at him. “Do you want to be a world champion, Lando Norris?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then start acting like it. You’re not the youngest on the grid anymore.” Your claw scratches against the edge of the table again, leaving a faint mark. “I’ll talk to your trainer after this. You’re going to do extra conditioning for every tardy arrival to a meeting, practice, whatever, starting with this morning.”

“That seems a bit much,” Andrea starts, but Zak lets out a low whistle. Almost impressed. 

“You’re treating him like a football coach would.”

“I’m treating him as he should be. He is an athlete. He represents a team. Such actions can reflect poorly.”

“It was one time!” Lando protests.

“Was it?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. Lando has to stop himself from growling, reminding himself he must be civil. “Was it just a one-time occurrence last season, Andrea?”

Lando bites his lower lip. You’re much stricter than Will had ever been. Andrea just holds up his hands, looking back at him with an apologetic gaze while you prompt him to answer. 

“I admit… things have been a bit relaxed as of late,” The team principal scratches the back of his head, and you make a little tutting noise, before turning to look at Lando again. 

“Then we’re fixing it.” 

A long pause settles. And you start again.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, and icy eyes that challenge even the famous death stare of your sire. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say what you were going to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissyfit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icily calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or speaking to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you speak. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With that classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth. 

“Fine then.”

You push yourself up easily, and stand, looking down at him. 

“Firstly, you are incredibly arrogant. You take risks without properly considering the chances of failure. Whenever you do inevitably end up in a lower place than your high-and-mighty ass thinks you deserve, you then take it out on everyone but yourself, when it’s solely your own decisions getting you there.”

You take a deep breath in, and he can hear the rattle of it in your throat as you start to walk around the table towards him as if you’re stalking your prey. Glaring all the while. Eyes glowing in the light. Andrea has his head in his hands behind you.

“Furthermore, you’ve yet to win a single race. Just one. You are not a world champion because you’re a fan favorite and show extreme promise. Everyone is here because they showed promise at one point or another. You’re a brat of a driver with an ego boosted by all of the people who want to get into your pants and the fact that these fuckers,” You snarl when you whip your hand out to point to Zak and Andrea, who at least have the decency to look a bit ashamed, “…don’t discipline you enough.”

And then you stop, and pull him up by the collar so fast that he gets whiplash, looking you right in your eyes, and can see the angry, mottled skin of severe scarring just hidden under the concealer on your face. Zak still seems to be reeling from the comment you made about how soft they are on Lando, and the way that you’re bristling for a fight.

“Thirdly. You’re a fucking jackass who’s mad someone got called over here to stop your ass from having another hissyfit while being interviewed. I hope the food from the races this year gives you explosive diarrhea from all the spices.”

With that, you let go of his collar and storm out of the room, screaming in German the entire way out, while slamming the door behind you.

Andrea only groans, looking at Lando from between his fingers, while Zak has his head against the table. Oscar has his hands tightly threaded in his hair. But then you come storming back in, with something in your hand. Lando just barely manages to swat it out of the way, and listens to it hit the ground, sounding like an empty can.

And you throw your hands in the air. “Oh, so you can react when a Red Bull is suddenly coming at you! Now do it with the fucking car, dipshit!”

Lando feels his eye twitch once. Twice. And then he’s throwing the crinkled can right back at you, the two of you screaming at each other in two separate languages while Andrea pushes himself between you two, with Zak trying his best to mediate the situation. Oscar looks like he would rather be anywhere else than between the two of you, eyes straight to the center of the table when you’re both finally separated. His scent is sour and awkward. Lando’s smells of burnt rubber. Your teeth are still bared, scent hidden. And that somehow makes Lando angrier.

“Never insult my voice again,” You hiss at Lando, eyes burning as the Brit sits in the chair while you stay standing. Oscar is holding tightly to his shoulder, the omega’s fingers digging into his skin. “I’ll gut you like a fucking fish if you do.” 

The faintest trace of an American accent makes Lando’s head spin, as he watches you leave, stalking out of the room. And Zak looks at Lando, jaw hanging loose. “Uh. I think… I think we need a five-minute break.” Zak mumbles, looking a bit disturbed, before leaving to go talk to you. Lando just stands there, feeling his anger fade as Oscar slowly approaches him. Andrea has gone after Zak.

"Mate," The omega's voice trembles, with shock or rage, he isn't entirely sure which one, "What the fuck?"

tags: @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @st0rmzi3

[natailiatulls07]

Wholesome moments

Formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Summary - 5 wholesome moments

Warning - none tbh, happy crying?? Being drunk??

Reader drives for RedBull

-

One - Late to post race press

I was in my drivers room, relaxing after a race. Strolling through tiktok when my manager, Emma, rushs in looking annoyed. "Oh hi Emma" I offer her a small smile which seems to only annoy her more.

"What are you doing?!" Her tone angry, by now I was confused. Pointing down to my phone which had a random tiktok playing on repeat. "You have the post race press, it was meant to start ten minutes ago but their waiting on you!" It was only then when I finally looked at the time, she was right.

Jumping up from the leather sofa, rushing out of my room toward the conference room with Emma close behind. Walking in, I could see everyones eyes on me. "Hey...so sorry for my tardiness" Laughing at myself awkwardly whilst everyone soon joined in with laughter.

Sit down in my seat between Fernando and Carlos. "So tell us Y/n what was so important that time fell away from you?" Turning my head to Daniel who had a smug smile on his face.

"Well if you must know Danny, tiktok has become very addictive recently" I wore a sheepish smile on my face as the room once again erupted in laughter.

"See kids these days, hooked to their phone" Daniel replied, shaking his head knowingly. It wsm't long before the laughter died down and we started press with myself in attendance.

Two - Prankster

If there was one thing on the paddock that I was known for it would be my notorious prank on anyone and everyone. LIke one time, I posted a instagram announcing 'my retirement'. This meant that I had my phone blowing up, texts, comments, missed calls and etc. I remember about two minute after I posted the instagram, I could a call from Christian. "Hey Chris!"

"What the hell Y/n?! What is going on with your instagram post?" I had to surpress my laughter and acted somewhat sad. He sounded upset, this made me feel almost sad for him.

"Oh yeah I know that its the middle of the season but I found some thing better for myself.." It was going great, I loved it. After a few seconds of silence, he came back to his sense.

"What could you have possible found that is better than not only driving for Redbull but for formula one?!" His voice was soon becoming more and more annoyed, and what I was about to say would set him off.

It was really hard to surpress myself from laughing when I told him the 'better thing'. "Have you ever heard of dog food tasters?" One could only imagine what his head was going through.

Yet again there was a few seconds of an awakward silence, a silence to sit through and not laugh. "Y/n... you're kidding me, you're the fussiest person I have ever met! And you're going to from fucking formula one and redbull to a dog food taster... you won't even drink coffee, let alone dog food!"

I could no longer hold in my laughter, doubling over I could hear Chris questioning my laugh. "Oh my god! You actually believed me, Christian I'm not leave redbull or formula one. I just pranked you" Dead silence until I heard Christian chuckle.

“I should of known, you little prankster” Let’s just say for the rest of the day, my phone would not turn off. Nearly every other driver on the grid calling, anxiety coursing through their heads.

Three - the little weight

It was the yearly FIA prize giving ceremony, everyone swapped out of their uniforms for gowns and suits. Hair and makeup done.

Sat in the buzzing venue, the night of celebrations meant I had not kept track of the amount of alcohol I was downing. Until I was announced as rookie of the year.

Raising from my seat, I made my way to stage. The crowd were clapping and cheering, I could see the other drivers sporting proud smiles.

Arriving to the mic which sat in the middle of the stage, I was handed my trophy. “Oh wow, thank you! I would like to say that I love you all and I’m that I want to thank Alex Turner for this because he is hot!” All it was rambling, I continued to ramble until Lando stood up from his seat.

“Quick question! Y/n how many drinks have you had?” His voice contained both concerns and amusement.

Holding up my free hand with two fingers, almost proudly. This small gesture made everyone burst into a light laughter. “Oh god! You are so drunk..” Lando trailed off whilst climbing up the stairs before walking me off stage.

“Come on, I think it’s time we start getting some water down you and maybe getting you home” He continued to walk me over to the grand reception where we waited for a taxi and drank some water.

-

Waking up the next morning, I was in my bed. Looking over at my phone, I could see a text from Lando along with other notifications probably regarding last night.

‘Hey kiddo, I managed to get you back to your apartment last night. Maybe next time don’t drink as much

Lots of love your big brother’

Checking social media, I immediately got embarrassment as my drunken ramble went viral.

Four - First F1 podium

“Okay Leclerc and Hamilton have a hot 7 seconds gap between you and them, keep pushing” It was the Austrian race and I had somehow settled myself into p2.

My anxiety was on an all time high when I was racing but currently being in p2 made that anxiety worsen. “Copy..” I was focused on getting that podium.

It would be my first podium, and even if I didn’t stand in pole position I would be happy. “How many laps left?” I asked my race engineer through the radio, I wanted to finish the race as soon as possible.

“Only two laps left, you can do it!” Only two that was reassuring to say the least. I could hear crowd cheering but I didn’t let that next my focus from the p2 spot.

“One lap left! Keep pushing!” One lap. One more lap until could stand on that podium for the first time. I accelerated the car, there was no chance I would catch Max but I had to keep that distance from the Ferrari and Mercedes behind me.

“There’s the checkered flag! You can do!” I could see the line and flag waving in the distance, it was only when I crossed the line that I really let my focus go and come to the realisation that I was on the podium.

“I did it! I fucking did it! P2 baby! That’s what I like to hear!” I could my race engineer laugh at my antics of the radio, whilst also tell me that they were incredibly proud.

-

Standing on the podium, I looked over at the crowd. A large smile was planted on my face. “Kiddo you did it! You’re on the podium!” I heard Max who was of course in p1 exclaim beside me.

I was soon soaked in sweet champagne, I didn’t care if it ruined my hair. All I cared about was the position I finished today’s race with.

Five - P1…oh how I like this view

Once again I was sat in the redbull car, awaiting for my the race to begin. I was very lucky to be granted pole position in Monaco of all places. It was tense as we all waited for the five lights to flash out.

And when the did, I was off leaving the wait line in no time. Tackling every tight curve, accelerating when ever I saw someone even get close to me.

I could feel the blazing sun down on my race suit. I could smell the scent of burning rubber. I could hear crowds who had lined the tracks. I could taste the exhaust filled air. But I felt like I had gone blind, just focusing on the track and maintaining my car from any possible damage.

Whilst in pit stop, my anxiety ran through the heavens. Just wanting to get back on the track and end with my win.

I was up against some of the best of the best. And I had to hold onto the pole position, hold onto that winning position.

“Verstappen is just over 5 seconds behind you so not much of a gap, keep pushing when you can” My race engineer was aware of anxiety when it came to racing, but she was also aware of my hunger for that winning position.

“Copy, how many laps?” Once again I was twisting around the narrow corners.

“Three, if you push the gap bigger you’ll probably win!” That’s was all I needed to give me motivation to push as hard as I can.

Pressing down on the accelerator, I heard the rumbling of my car increase in sound.

-

After three agonising laps, I could see the checkered flag being waved. Tears were welling up on my waterline. It was only when I cross that finish line when I then let them fall down my cheeks.

“I did… I’m first” I whispered, so only myself and my face engineer could hear. It was barely audible over the loud crowds who were cheering me on for my first win.

-

Finally standing above the number felt great. I felt tall, empowered, unstoppable and proud. Everyone was cheering as I was handed the trophy. Off to the side were the rest of the drivers who hadn’t won podium stood smiling up at me.

I felt that familiar family love once again. I always did whether I didn’t place top ten or if I had gotten to that first place position. I would be lying if I didn’t feel that love to them in return.

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 lando and Charles finding each other after Charles took the grid penalty, awkwardly talking with y/n in the middle

bro this ended up being so much longer than i thought but i hope its okay also its not edited i just wrote it at work LOL

"Don't," you told Lando, hand going to his chest the second he stepped out of the car. His attention had already gone towards the entrance of the garage, but you were hoping your touch would remind him there were more important things at stake here.

"He ruined my lap!" Lando exclaimed after he pulled his helmet off."

"And now the FIA is investigating it so whatever you want to say, save it."

Lando didn't know that part. How could he when he had been in the car this whole time? Whereas you saw the incident when it occurred, Charles unintentionally getting in the way of Lando's flying lap. You understood why Lando was pissed, he had a right to be, but you both knew how important Monaco was for Charles.

He clenched his jaw, taking one more look at the pit lane, knowing Charles was somewhere down there. You trailed your hand upwards, pulling his face back to yours.

"Just go do media and if you're still angry after-"

"I'm not angry it's just annoying, is all," Lando scoffed. He pulled his face out of your grasp and you told yourself his actions weren't personal, he was just in a mood.

You could have let it go, had he not muttered one last thing under his breath.

"...thinks he can get away with this shit because he's from here, he's not the prince of motorsport-"

"Hey!" You snapped, your stare narrowing into an icy glare. Even a few McLaren mechanics turned to look at you with curiosity as you were never one to raise your voice at Lando, especially during a race weekend.

Lando's features only tightened more, it was clear he wasn't about to retract his statement, even if it was said in haste.

These types of moments during the races were rare. Usually, Lando and Charles got on pretty well. They respected each other and you split your time evenly between their garages. This weekend was the only time they argued over which garage you'd be in. In the end they agreed that Lando would have you for practices and Qualifying, but it was only right you were supporting Charles in the Ferrari garage at his home race.

Not like either of them asked for your opinion.

But this stupid tunnel incident was not one you had prepared for. In fact, you, along with many other people, were convinced that Lando wasn't going to get a lap in during Q3 after his brush with the barrier last session. His mechanics were magicians, apparently, and he managed to get out for a flying lap.

You texted Carlos' cousin when you heard about what happened in the tunnel, wanting to know if Ferrari was about to go up in flames. All he responses with was Xavi didn't tell Charles to move. The investigation notification came a minute later.

So yes, while Charles fucked up Lando's lap time, it wasn't his fault. And now there was a chance he was going to have to pay the price for it. The last thing you needed was your boyfriend making things worse.

Lando stood there, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to tell him that you were on Charles' side but you just shook your head, warning him with your stare alone.

"Save. It." You repeated.

And then you left, knowing that Charles would appreciate your support much more than Lando would right now. You hung out in the Ferrari garage with Carlos for a bit when he returned from media before someone told you that Charles was chatting with Fred back in the motorhome, a closed door meeting presumably.

Clips of Lando's post-quali interview was circulating on twitter and you rolled his eyes at his suggestion to disqualify Charles. It was a joke, a painful one with maybe an ounce of truth behind it, but a joke nonetheless.

Which was a good sign. Maybe Lando had cooled off a bit. He must have if he was able to flash a faint smile for the cameras. You had seen the interviews after horrid sessions and this was not that.

An hour went by and still no one had heard anything. The two hour mark came and went and the only text you got was from Lando telling you he swiped some cheesecake from the hospitality lounge for you.

And then at the third hour, Charles stepped out of the office and came walking down the steps of the motorhome. The lines in his forehead and his lips pressed together tightly said it all.

"Three places," Charles sighed, he dropped to the couch across from you. At this point, most of the team had cleared out but you and Carlos had stayed. Charles dropped his elbows to his knees as his face fell to his hands. "Trois putains de lieux," Three fucking places.

"I'm so sorry," you said, because what else could you say? This was his home race and he qualified third. He still had a fighting chance being so close to the front but now it was ripped away.

"I just want to go home," Charles shook his head.

"Do you want me to call maman? I'm sure she's already made dinner-"

"Have you talked to Lando?" Charles cut you off, head snapping up.

Even Carlos looked at you. He too was curious, but didn't think to ask, assuming that it was probably the wrong time.

"Not since he got out of the car."

"He'll probably be celebrating in a minute," he muttered, staring past you and out the window towards the paddock. At the same time, your phone got the notification of F1's statement. Charles Leclerc takes 3-Place Grid Penalty.

"Your penalty doesn't help him at all," this was a thin line you walked on, playing devils advocate. "He's pissed yeah, but he's still stuck starting from tenth. And now you're starting sixth, no one wins."

"Max will," Carlos whispered, and then glanced between you and Charles, snapping his mouth shut. "I mean, he probably will. We all knew this."

Charles chose to ignore that comment, standing up and patting his teammate on the shoulder as he walked past, "Good luck tomorrow Carlos. I'm sure they'll give you the fighting chance strategy."

There was nothing you could do except follow him out in the paddock. He didn't want advice, he didn't want a pep talk, he wanted to go home and be angry about this because this situation had fallen so far out of his control.

The paddock had emptied for the most part at this point, a few stragglers here and there, but most drivers had gone into their debriefs and strategy planning meetings.

Most, not all.

Because just up ahead you spotted Lando walking in the same direction towards the gates. Charles shot you a look, silently telling you not to say anything or get his attention and you nodded, not wanting to stir the pot any more.

Lando probably would have just gone to his car and driven back to his flat.

But you both watched as he raised his phone up to his ear and it was only seconds later when the phone in your hand started ringing. You didn't need to look at the screen to know Lando was trying to get a hold of you.

Hearing your ringtone, Lando stopped walking and turned around. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Charles as you both approached him.

You stood between them, you had to. You didn't know if they were blaming the other or if they were going to fight or if Lando was still angry or what. There were too many variables and for everyones sake, you made sure to stand between them.

Lando shrugged sympathetically, but his words were anything but, "You don't slow down in the tunnel, mate. Everyone knows this."

"I didn't know you were behind me," Charles retorted, keeping the tone respectful.

"There are mirrors on the car."

"But not headlights."

"You don't slow down in the tunnel," Lando repeated with a sigh.

You could hear it in his voice, Lando did feel bad for Charles after seeing the harsh penalty, but he still had a right to hold a bit of a grudge.

Charles nodded, "I am sorry, Lando."

Shocked, you stared up at your brother, wondering if you had in fact heard him correctly. Charles was apologizing? For something he had no control over? Something that screwed him over?

Even Lando was susprised to hear it, taking a second for himself before responding.

"Yeah I'm sorry too," Lando nodded, reaching forward and patting the driver on the arm. "Three places is harsh."

"They should have fined the team," Charles shrugged.

"It's the Monaco curse, I guess."

You slapped the back of your hand against Lando's abdomen and even Charles rolled his eyes, hearing nothing but curse this and curse that, especially from Arthur who was now convinced it was in fact real.

"Curse or not, we both have our work cut out for us tomorrow," Charles said and the three of you started off walking again, still with you in the middle.

You stayed quiet as the drivers talked amongst yourselves but when Lando reached for your hand you looked up at him and smiled. You could breathe a little easier tonight knowing they wouldn't hold this incident against each other.

You approached Charles' Ferrari first and he unlocked the doors, nodding his head at Lando, "Are you coming to dinner?"

Lando looked at you, unsure how to answer because this was the first he had heard about dinner, "I don't-"

"You didn't invite him?" Charles asked you, brows pinched together. Every year, you spent the evening after qualifying at your maman's place for a good luck dinner, even if good luck never followed. Charles was still intent on going tonight, and was surprised to hear you didn't extend the invitation to Lando.

"I didn't know I could," you answered honestly.

"Come for dinner," Charles told Lando, no longer phrasing it as a question. He reached for the handle of the drivers side door and then pointed a finger at the Brit, "But don't even think about mentioning the curse."

You leaned into Lando's side as Charles said he'd see you in a bit and you waited until he drove off before your tilting your face upwards.

"Thank you," you said to him.

Lando kissed the top of your head, "What for?"

For saving whatever bullshit comment he really wanted to make. For not starting a fight in the middle of the paddock. For putting his own annoyances aside and seeing Charles as someone was also struggling.

"Just, thank you," you repeated. Because truthfully, there were a lot of reasons. Too many to list.

But most importantly, you were thankful to not be forced into choosing a side.