#lewis had the best car then max had the best car & that's how the sport goes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsfancyferrari · 4 months ago

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Timeless Desire

Summary: You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.

Song: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 12.6k

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You had always been a Mercedes fan since you were young, and it hadn't changed when you became Max Verstappen's best friend. The British Grand Prix had always been a special occasion for you, being a Brit yourself.

This time, however, you decided to wear your signed Mercedes shirt to the paddock, attracting a lot of attention.

As you walked into the paddock, you could feel the eyes of the public on you, a mix of curiosity and admiration. The atmosphere was electric, with fans and team members bustling around, preparing for the big race.

You caught a few whispers and nods of recognition, some even pointing at your shirt with approving smiles. It felt surreal to be in the midst of such excitement, wearing the symbol of your childhood dreams.

Max spotted you from across the paddock and made his way over, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the shirt. "Are you ready for me to win again?" he said with a wink, clapping you on the back.

"Not in a million years Maxie," You replied, nudging your shoulders to his.

Being here, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the energy of the fans, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging.

You followed Max to the Red Bull garage, your Mercedes shirt still drawing a few curious stares from the Red Bull staff. Most of them were used to seeing you around, though, and had long accepted your unwavering loyalty to Mercedes.

The mechanics were busy fine-tuning Max's car, their focus undeterred by your presence. As you stood there, you could feel the palpable tension and anticipation in the air, a reminder of how high the stakes were for everyone involved.

Max chatted with his engineers, occasionally glancing back at you with a playful smirk. You knew he thrived on the friendly rivalry between the two of you. Despite the different team colors, the camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with Max and the Red Bull crew were undeniable.

It was moments like these that made you appreciate the sport even more, knowing that beneath the fierce competition, there was a deep bond that transcended team allegiances.

As Max was engrossed in a conversation with his team, you decided to take advantage of the moment and slip away for a while.

You couldn't miss out on the chance to connect with other like-minded individuals. The other wives of girlfriends of the drivers welcomed you into their circle.

"So what's the story behind the Mercedes shirt?" Rebecca asked curiously.

"Oh I'm just a big fan of Mercedes, especially Lewis Hamilton," you explained with a smile.

"While dating Max Verstappen? That must be hard to do," Lily Muni commented.

You blushed, taken aback by her comment. "Oh, no, Max and I are just friends," you quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.

Rebecca and Lily exchanged glances, clearly still intrigued, but they let the subject drop as the conversation shifted to other topics.

In your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay Lily's comment. The idea of dating Max had never crossed your mind in a serious way; your bond was built on years of shared experiences and a mutual love for racing.

Yet, the notion lingered, making you question if perhaps there was more beneath the surface of your friendship.

You had such strong feelings for Max, but you were terrified of rejection.

He's the 3-time world champion, a true legend of the sport. How could someone like you ever have a chance with someone as incredible as him? He's so talented, so successful, and you were just an ordinary person. The thought of opening your heart to him only to be turned away is enough to fill you with dread.

Part of you wishes you could just ignore these feelings, but they're impossible to deny. Every time you see him race, your heart skips a beat.

He's so captivating, so mesmerizing. You know deep down that you two could be amazing together, but the risk of rejection is too much to bear. You’d have to be content admiring him from afar, as much as that pains you. He's simply out of your league.

You had to rush back to the Red Bull garage to give Max at least some of your good luck while the rest was left for the Mercedes drivers.

You gave him a quick hug and told him, "Go easy on them will you?"

Max smirked and said, "Never in a million years."

You watched as Max got into his race car and drove off to the starting line. The atmosphere was electric, with the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd filling the air.

You then made your way over to the area where the celebrities were gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of the famous faces. As you mingled with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

Whenever George, Lando or Hamilton were out on the track, you joined the throngs of fans in cheering them on, your voice adding to the cacophony of support that echoed through the circuit.

Jenson Button approached me, eager to know whom I was supporting at the British Grand Prix. "Excuse me, Y/N L/N. Can I have a moment of your time for a small interview?" he asked politely.

“Sure, I don’t mind!” You yelled over to the cars that had passed by where you were with speed for overtaking each other.

"I noticed you seem quite invested in the race today. Who are you rooting for?" He asked.

You turned to face the legendary Formula One driver, a smile spreading across your face. "Well, Jenson, I've always been a fan of Lewis Hamilton. The way he navigates those tight corners and pushes the limits of his car is truly inspiring. But I have to say, I'm also keeping a close eye on George Russell. He's been putting in some remarkable performances lately, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the podium today."

Jenson nodded thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, yes, George did get podium in Austria. It's been great to see him come into his own this season. And of course, Lewis is always a force to be reckoned with on his home turf."

He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me, who do you think has the best chance of taking the chequered flag on Sunday?"

You turned around, revealing the word "Lewis Hamilton" written on your shirt in bold, striking letters. "I guess my shirt says it all," you laughed.

"Lewis has an incredible track record here at Silverstone, and I believe his experience and skill will give him the edge this weekend. But honestly, in racing, anything can happen, and that's what makes it so thrilling."

Jenson grinned, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all set for a fantastic race day. Enjoy the rest of the Grand Prix, and may the best driver win!"

With that, he gave you a friendly nod and moved on to the next eager fan. You turned back to the track, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to cheer on your favorites as they battled it out on one of the most iconic circuits in the world.

Not long after Jenson moved on, you spotted Max Verstappen exiting his car after the first practice session. He looked focused but relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way toward the garage.

Seizing the opportunity, you approached him. "Max, you were incredible out there! How are you feeling about the car's performance today?" you asked.

Max turned to you, his eyes bright with determination. "Thanks! The car felt really good, especially through the high-speed corners. We've made a few tweaks since the last race, and it seems to be paying off," he said with a nod.

"But there's still a lot of work to do, and we need to make sure everything's perfect for qualifying tomorrow." His gaze shifted back to the track, the competitive fire clearly evident.

"That's great to hear," you replied, excitement evident in your voice. "I'm sure you and the team will nail it. Best of luck for the qualifying session—I'll be rooting for you!"

Max chuckled, his grin widening. "I know you're actually rooting for Lewis, so don't try and convince me," he said, playfully pointing at your shirt before walking back to his team.

You chuckled, caught off guard by his playful comment, but you couldn't help but admire his confidence. As he disappeared into the garage, you turned your attention back to the track, eager for the next glimpse of racing action.

Realizing this was the perfect moment to engage with your followers, you quickly pulled out your phone and started a video.

"Hey everyone, I'm here at Silverstone, and it's absolutely electric! I just had an amazing chat with Max Verstappen, who seems really confident about the car's performance today."

With the camera still rolling, you began to walk around the paddock, capturing the vibrant atmosphere. "Look at this crowd! The energy here is just unbelievable. Stay tuned, because I'll be sharing more exclusive content, interviews, and updates throughout the Grand Prix. Make sure to follow and hit that notification bell so you don't miss a thing!"

You ended the video with a smile, feeling thrilled to share this unforgettable experience with your followers.

The paddock buzzed with activity, mechanics tirelessly working on cars while the air was filled with the sound of revving engines and excited chatter. Colorful team banners and flags fluttered in the breeze, adding to the vibrant spectacle.

The aroma of fuel and tire rubber mingled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from nearby stalls, creating an intoxicating blend that awakens all your senses.

You decided to wander around the paddock until the second practice session started, eager to soak in every bit of the atmosphere. As you strolled past the various team garages, you couldn't help but marvel at the precision and dedication of the crew members.

Each mechanic moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they fine-tuned the cars for optimal performance. The occasional cheer erupted from fans who managed to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers, adding to the palpable excitement in the air.

Pausing at a merchandise stall, you took a moment to browse through the array of team hats, shirts, and memorabilia. The vendor’s enthusiastic pitch and the sight of fans proudly donning their favorite team's colors made you smile.

With a new Mercedes cap in hand, you continued your exploration, eventually finding a spot near the track with a clear view of the action.

Settling in, you glanced at your watch, counting down the minutes until the second practice session began, anticipation building with every passing second. . . . .

The second practice session had come to an exhilarating end, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as the leaderboard displayed Lando Norris’s name at the top. Seeing a Brit in first place put a broad smile on your face, a sentiment echoed by the cheers of the crowd around you.

The young driver's impressive performance had not only captured the hearts of the local fans but also ignited a sense of optimism for the upcoming race.

As the teams began to pack up their equipment and the drivers headed back to their motorhomes, you reflected on the day's events. The energy, the passion, and the sheer love for the sport were palpable, making you even more excited for what lay ahead.

You knew Max Verstappen wasn’t thrilled with his results today; the frustration was evident in his body language as he walked past the garage. Deciding it was best to give him some space, you chose to head back to your apartment on your own.

The cool evening breeze accompanied you as you made your way through the bustling streets, the excitement of the new day still lingering in the air.

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the couch, the day’s events replaying in your mind. The roar of the engines, the fervor of the crowd, and the sheer thrill of the race had left an indelible mark on you.

Your mind drifted back to the moment you saw Max Verstappen walk past the garage. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with visible frustration; sweat clung to his brow and his hair was tousled, a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. Racing was as much a mental game as it was a physical one, and today had clearly taken its toll on him.

As you sank deeper into the couch, you recalled the intensity in Max's eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. It wasn't just about winning; it was about pride, about proving himself in the face of fierce competition.

His messy hair and worn-out look were a testament to the effort he poured into every lap.

You found yourself silently rooting for him, hoping that tomorrow would bring him better results and the sense of accomplishment he so clearly desired.

Just as you were deep in thought about Max, your phone buzzed, pulling you back to the present. Glancing at the screen, you saw his name flash across it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but quickly answered.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to gauge his mood.

"Hey," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just... I needed to talk to someone. It's been a rough day."

You could hear the weariness in his voice, the frustration still lingering. "Of course, Max," you responded, your tone gentle and supportive. "Today was tough, but you're an incredible driver. You've got what it takes to bounce back."

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, "Thanks. I just needed to hear that. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?"

You smiled, "Absolutely. Get some rest, and let's see you take on the track with that unstoppable spirit of yours."

"Thanks, I'll come pick you up in the morning at the same time as today, is that alright?" Max asked, his voice sounding a bit lighter now.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, relieved to hear a hint of optimism returning to his tone. "Get some rest, Max. Tomorrow's another chance to shine."

After ending the call, you set your phone down and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of concern and hope for Max.

You decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would help settle your thoughts. As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind.

As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind. The warmth in Max's voice was something rare, a side of him that few got to witness.

It stirred something deep within you, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the thought. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, tonight he had reached out to you, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

You let the warmth of the tea seep into you, calming your nerves while your thoughts raced. The connection you felt with Max tonight was undeniable, and it left you wondering about the deeper layers of his character.

Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you hoped to see that same spark of warmth in his eyes, a sign that he was ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor.

Until then, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this newfound closeness, feeling a sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. . . .

The next day arrived faster than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, the alarm was blaring in your ear. Groggy and disoriented, you realized with a start that you had overslept.

Panic set in as you hurriedly got ready, grabbing another Lewis Hamilton shirt and a Mercedes hat for some much-needed shade. You barely had time to brush your hair before Max would be at your doorstep.

You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed some water on your face, and dashed out the door, your heart pounding not just from the hurry but from the anticipation of seeing him again.

Rushing down the stairs, you hoped that your tardiness wouldn't dampen Max’s newly found optimism. As you stepped outside, you saw his car approaching, and a wave of relief washed over you.

The moment you climbed into the car, Max greeted you with a smile that was both reassuring and genuine. "Ready for today?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the rocky start, everything was going to be just fine.

"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, trying to mask the flutter of nerves still lingering from your rushed morning. "Let's make it a great day."

Max's smile widened, and you felt a surge of confidence as the car pulled away from the curb, setting the course for whatever lay ahead.

The both of you arrived at the paddock at the usual time, the familiar hum of activity already filling the air. Mechanics were bustling about, engineers deep in conversation, and the distinctive scent of fuel and rubber permeated the space.

You used your paddock pass to enter the gate, feeling a sense of belonging as you navigated through the organized chaos. Max walked beside you, his presence steady and comforting.

As you approached the garage, you couldn’t help but notice the way the team members greeted Max with a newfound respect. It was as if the previous night's vulnerability had transformed him in their eyes as well.

He exchanged quick words with the crew, his tone confident and determined. You caught his eye, and he flashed you a quick, reassuring smile.

Since there was still time before the third practice race, you and Max decided to walk around the paddock. The bustling atmosphere of the Formula One paddock was electric, with teams of engineers and mechanics scurrying about, fine-tuning their cars for the upcoming sessions.

As you and Max strolled through the maze of garages, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The sights and sounds of the sport you both loved so dearly were all around you, and you knew that the real action was just moments away.

The two of you exchanged excited glances, each of you eager to see what the day had in store.

Then in the distance, you saw Lewis Hamilton getting interviewed by Jenson Button and other journalists. Hamilton's outfit exuded a sense of style and sophistication that perfectly complemented his status as a Formula One superstar.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal grey suit, Hamilton looked sharp and modern. The slim-fit jacket accentuated his athletic build, while the crisp white shirt and slim-cut trousers gave him a polished, contemporary look. Finishing off the ensemble were a pair of sleek black leather dress shoes, lending an air of elegance to his overall appearance.

Hamilton's fashion choices demonstrated his keen eye for detail and his ability to effortlessly blend high performance sportswear with high-end formal attire, solidifying his reputation as one of the most stylish personalities in the world of motorsports.

Jenson and Lewis paused their conversation as their eyes fell upon you and Max. Their faces lit up with genuine smiles, and Jenson waved enthusiastically, beckoning you over. The camera crew shifted slightly to accommodate the new dynamic, capturing the camaraderie between the drivers.

"Hey, you two!" Jenson called out. "Come join us for a bit!" The invitation was casual yet filled with warmth, a testament to the close-knit community within the paddock.

"Are you coming?" you whispered to Max and he shook his head, understanding completely.

It would be too early in the morning for him to be hammered with questions with the 7th World Champion.

You made your way over, exchanging nods and greetings with the crew along the way.

As you joined the small circle, Lewis extended his arms for a friendly hug. The warmth of his embrace was a welcome respite from the chill of the evening air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in that moment.

His firm yet gentle grip conveyed a genuine affection that put you at ease, reminding you of the strong bond you shared.

The hug lasted just long enough to feel comforting, without becoming overbearing. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that spread across Lewis' face, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight at your arrival.

"Good to see you again Y/N," he said, his voice carrying the same charm as his attire.

"Same to you Lewis," you replied with a grin on your face after meeting your idol.

You two have met before and every time Max would be with you but he would let you speak for the both of you.

"You know, we've seen some viral rumors going around about the two of you," Jenson stated, his tone playful yet curious. "Your faces look very similar," he added, prompting nods of agreement from the surrounding interviewers.

You chuckled, glancing over at Lewis, who seemed equally amused. "Yeah, I've heard that one before," Lewis said with a grin. "People always think we're related or something."

"I would be lucky to have you as my dad," you replied, your tone light-hearted but sincere. The surrounding crew chuckled, and Lewis laughed warmly, patting you on the back.

"Well, if I had a kid as cool as you, I'd be the lucky one," he responded, his eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"You know, I was in high school when you won your first world championship," you said, reminiscing about the early days of his career. Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. That makes me feel ancient," he replied, still grinning.

Jenson joined in, adding, "Well, there's no denying the resemblance. Maybe you two should do a DNA test just for fun." The suggestion elicited more laughter, and you shrugged, playing along.

"Who knows, maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost family," you joked, feeling the camaraderie and light-heartedness of the moment.

Jenson leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. "So, Y/N, any plans to follow in our footsteps and join the racing world?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe one day. For now, I'm just enjoying the ride and learning from the best."

Lewis smiled warmly before patting your shoulder. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Keep learning and who knows where you'll end up," he encouraged.

The crew continued to chat and laugh, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and camaraderie.

Jenson looked back at Max, who was still waiting patiently. "Let's not keep Max Verstappen waiting any longer and let you go," he said with a grin. "But before you leave, who are you rooting for to win on Sunday?"

You grinned and turned to the camera, proudly showing off your shirt which had Lewis Hamilton's name and number emblazoned on it.

"Of course, for my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton," you declared with enthusiasm. The crew erupted in cheers and applause, clearly appreciating your loyalty.

Lewis laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Well, it's good to know I've got such a dedicated fan in you, Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Just make sure you keep cheering loudly; I might need that extra bit of support on Sunday."

You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of the moment as Jenson wrapped up the interview.

When he unexpectedly reached out and signed your Mercedes cap and shirt, you were utterly starstruck and overcome with a profound sense of awe.

The surreal experience of having the coveted autograph of your revered idol permanently emblazoned upon your personal item is a feeling that will undoubtedly be etched into your memory, to be cherished and fondly recalled for years to come.

This tangible connection to your admired public figure has elevated the cap and the shirt from a mere article of clothing into a prized possession, imbued with deep personal significance that will serve as a lasting reminder of this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

"Thank you guys for making me meet my dad," you joked as you handed your microphone to a staff member. The crew burst into laughter, and even Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at your playful remark.

"Good luck, Dad!" you said as you walked away from the group, grinning from ear to ear. The crew's laughter continued to echo behind you, and Lewis gave a final wave, still smiling at your endearing humor.

"Thanks, kid," Lewis said back, still smiling warmly. You felt a rush of pride as you walked away, knowing that this incredible moment would stay with you forever. The excitement of the day left you feeling like you were walking on air, already anticipating the thrilling race ahead.

Max then joined you halfway as you two walked together behind the group. "That was quite the interaction," he remarked, glancing at the freshly signed cap in your hands. "I think you just made everyone in the crew a little jealous."

You chuckled, still riding the high of the unforgettable experience. "It feels like a dream. I mean, meeting Lewis Hamilton and getting his autograph? It's surreal," you replied, your voice bubbling with excitement.

Max raised an eyebrow playfully, “Would you be this excited if I gave you a signed Red Bull hat?”

You laughed, glancing at him, “Of course, Max! But you know, nothing beats meeting your hero.”

Max smirked, shaking his head with a mock sigh, “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”

"Well, Max, you'll have to start by winning a few more championships," you teased, nudging him lightly. He laughed, playfully rolling his eyes.

"But seriously, Max, you're my second hero too," you admitted with a grin, making him laugh and shake his head.

As you both entered the Red Bull garage, the familiar hum of activity and the scent of burning rubber welcomed you, amplifying your anticipation for the race ahead.

"These are the only times I've actually seen Max laugh this week," Jenson commented, overhearing the lighthearted exchange.

Lewis smiled warmly at the remark, clearly pleased to see such camaraderie. "Well, it looks like she's got the magic touch on Max," Lewis said, giving you a nod of approval.

Jenson chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's true, she's got a way of bringing out the best in all of us," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe we should keep her around for good luck," he added, glancing at Lewis with a grin. . . .

The results from the third practice session of the British Grand Prix left you utterly astonished. The top three positions were dominated by British drivers: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the names flashed up on the leaderboard, and you could feel the electricity in the air. The excitement was palpable, and the entire paddock buzzed with a mix of admiration and determination.

As you and Alexandra absorbed the results, you couldn't help but feel a surge of national pride mixed with the competitive spirit that coursed through the paddock.

"Three Brits at the top—who would've thought?" Alex mused, glancing at the screen.

"It's going to be one heck of a race," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.

The anticipation for Sunday's race grew stronger, knowing that this unexpected turn of events had set the stage for an epic showdown on the Silverstone circuit.

As the final practice session concluded, you made your way back to the garage, where Max was already debriefing with his engineers. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination, clearly unsatisfied with his fourth-place finish.

You could sense the tension in the air as he ran a hand through his hair, listening intently to the feedback. "Fourth place again," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched.

You approached him carefully, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Max, don't be too hard on yourself. The race is still ahead, and anything can happen," you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, his eyes softening slightly. "I know, but it's just frustrating," he admitted, exhaling deeply.

"We'll figure it out," you replied confidently. "You've got the skills and the team behind you—we'll get there."

Max’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the tension in his posture easing. Without warning, he pulled you into a big, tight hug, a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie.

"Thanks," he whispered into your shoulder, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the garage. "I needed that."

You patted his back reassuringly, feeling the weight of his determination and the pressure he was under.

As he released you, he took a step back, his expression a bit lighter. "Alright, let me get to work before I get yelled at by the team," he joked, a renewed spark in his eyes.

You nodded, feeling a surge of optimism before letting him go. As Max turned back to his engineers, you couldn't help but admire his resilience and dedication. The garage was a hive of activity, the mechanics and engineers working tirelessly to fine-tune every detail for the upcoming race.

You knew that this was just the beginning, and that every effort counted towards the ultimate goal. The camaraderie and mutual support within the team were palpable, and it gave you confidence that they could overcome any obstacles.

Walking over to the pit wall, you glanced at the data screens, absorbing the information from the final practice session. The numbers told a story of fierce competition and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

As you watched the team dive into their preparations, you felt a sense of unity and purpose that transcended individual ambitions. The Silverstone circuit awaited, and with the collective strength and determination of the team, you believed they were ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

With the support of his team and the undeniable talent that Max possessed, you knew that the upcoming race would be anything but predictable.

Knowing that Max would likely pull an all-nighter to ensure everything was perfect, you decided to embrace a rare moment of relaxation and joined the girls for a much-needed night out.

The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the focused intensity of the garage, and you relished the chance to unwind and recharge. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you and the girls caught up over dinner, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.

"Lily, you should have seen Max today," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "He was so stressed but still managed to joke around. It's like he's made of steel."

Alexandra laughed, "You and Max, honestly, it's like watching a married couple. The way you two support each other is incredible."

Rebecca chimed in, "You both have that unspoken understanding. It's rare to see such a strong bond. Do you ever think about what it would be like if you two were actually together?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "Max and I are just really good friends. We've been through so much together, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

As the evening progressed, Lily leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how are things going with Max? Seriously, the way you two finish each other's sentences is uncanny," she teased, nudging Alexandra.

Alexandra and Rebecca chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, it's like you guys have this secret language," Rebecca added, taking a sip of her wine.

You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "I think that just happens when you're good friends with someone," you protested lightly. "But honestly, I think it's just because we've been through so much together with the team. It's hard not to get close when you're in the thick of it all."

The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.

As the night progressed, you felt the stress and tension of the past weeks melt away. Dancing under the colorful lights of the club, you allowed yourself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the joy and camaraderie of your friends.

Though your mind occasionally drifted back to the team and the upcoming race, you knew that moments like these were essential for maintaining balance and perspective.

The music in the club was a pulsating mix of deep bass and energetic beats, creating an infectious rhythm that made it impossible to stay still.

The DJ seamlessly blended popular hits with classic dance anthems, keeping the energy high and the dance floor packed. Every now and then, a familiar tune would spark cheers from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.

You tried to forget about tomorrow by dancing your heart out, losing yourself in the music and the laughter of your friends.

Each beat seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pushing away the lingering worries and stress about the upcoming race. The colored lights flashed around you, casting a vibrant glow on the faces of those you loved most.

Alexandra pulled you into a carefree spin, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own, while Rebecca's enthusiastic dance moves encouraged everyone around her to join in the fun.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of liberation, a temporary escape from the pressures that awaited you in the morning. The music, the lights, and the camaraderie wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

You danced until your feet ached and your lungs burned from breathless laughter. In those precious hours, you allowed yourself to be free, knowing that the memories you were creating would fortify you for the challenges ahead. . . .

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As you left the bathroom, a guy approached you with a confident smirk. "Hey there, having a good time?" he asked, stepping into your path.

You quickly pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, don't be like that," he persisted, reaching out and snatching the phone from your hands.

"Hey, give that back!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the music. His grin widened as he held your phone just out of reach.

"Relax, I just wanted to talk," he said, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

"Look, I'm just here to enjoy the night with my friends," you said firmly, trying to keep your cool. "Can you please give me my phone back?"

He chuckled and shook his head, still holding the phone out of reach. "Only if you promise to dance with me for one song," he countered, his eyes sparkling with playful determination.

"Look, I'm not interested," you replied firmly, trying to keep your cool despite the growing frustration. "Just give me my phone back."

"Why so serious?" he teased, leaning in closer. "I promise, I'm not a bad guy."

Suddenly, a fist landed against the man's face, and he staggered backward, releasing your phone. You looked over to see Max standing in front of you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. Max was wearing a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, his jeans slightly worn and his boots scuffed from countless adventures.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you replied, clutching your phone tightly. The guy groaned, rubbing his jaw, but quickly decided to make himself scarce. "Thanks, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

Max shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't mention it. No one messes with you." He glanced around, the lively atmosphere of the party resuming as if nothing had happened.

"Come on, let's get back to the others. I think Alexandra is about to challenge everyone to a dance-off."

Max had always been the one to look out for you, ever since you first met. His protective nature wasn't just about physical safety; it was about ensuring you felt secure and valued in every situation. Moments like these reminded you why you valued his friendship so deeply.

You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, before following Max over to where the girls were gathered. Alexandra was already hyping everyone up, her infectious energy drawing a crowd. The music thumped louder as she announced the start of the dance-off, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

"Hey, you're just in time!" Alexandra called out, her voice filled with excitement. "We're about to start the dance-off, and I need my best dancer by my side." You laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away.

Max stayed close by your side, his reassuring presence a constant comfort. As the dance-off began, you found yourself laughing and cheering on your friends, the earlier tension quickly fading away.

You start to move your body to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips and tapping your feet. The beat pulses through you, and you let it guide your movements, flowing from one step to the next with a natural fluidity.

As the tempo picks up, you pick up the pace, your limbs moving with increasing energy and precision. You twirl and spin, your arms outstretched, feeling the music coursing through every inch of your being.

The world around you fades away as you become lost in the dance, your only focus being the rhythm that compels you to keep moving.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a wave of encouragement that fueled your every move. You could hear your friends shouting your name, their voices blending with the music and creating an intoxicating mix of sound and energy.

Every clap, every cheer, every shout of encouragement pushed you to dance harder, to lose yourself even more in the rhythm. It was a feeling of pure exhilaration, a moment where nothing else mattered but the beat and the joy of movement.

As you executed a particularly challenging spin, the crowd erupted in applause. You caught a glimpse of Max, his eyes filled with pride and approval, and it spurred you on even further.

Your feet barely touched the ground as you performed intricate steps, each one met with more cheers and applause.

Alexandra joined in, her movements mirroring yours in a dazzling display of synchronicity. Together, you owned the dance floor, the world outside the party forgotten as you reveled in the collective energy and sheer delight of the dance-off.

"Alright, I think it's time for us to go," Max muttered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the dance-off.

You said goodbye to the girls, their faces glowing with the same exhilaration that still coursed through your veins. They gave you knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and unforgettable moments.

"You were amazing out there," one of them said, pulling you into a quick hug. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with pride and admiration.

It was a night that would be etched into your memories, a night where you felt truly alive and connected.

As you made your way through the crowd, you could feel the lingering energy of the night, the music and laughter still echoing in your ears.

"Did you have fun?" Max asked, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Absolutely," you replied with a smile. "I needed this. Thanks for being here with me."

"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "Now let's get you home."

As you and Max made your way out of the venue, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat and energy inside.

He led you to where his car was parked, a few blocks away from the lively venue. The city's lights shimmered around you, creating a magical ambiance that seemed to extend the evening's enchantment.

Max opened the passenger door for you, his gentlemanly gesture making you smile. As you settled into the seat, you took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs and calming your racing heart.

Max slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the soft hum of the car a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the night giving way to a peaceful stillness.

As he drove, you glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.

A sense of gratitude washed over you, not just for the incredible night but for the unwavering presence of someone who understood you so deeply.

The road stretched ahead, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of contentment and peace.

The cityscape gradually transitioned from the vibrant glow of downtown to the quieter, tree-lined neighborhoods.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional passerby strolled under the canopy of autumn leaves. The serene streets, dotted with quaint shops and cafes, seemed to whisper stories of their own, adding to the magic of the night.

You didn’t hear when the car stopped or when Max got out of his seat to come to your side, but you felt a touch on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring.

"Hey," he said softly, "we're here." His voice pulled you out of your reverie, and you looked up to see him holding your door open, a kind smile on his face.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out," you said, stepping out of the car and into the crisp night air. Max chuckled, "No worries. It looks like tonight wore you out in the best way possible."

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "It did. Thanks again, Max, for everything." He squeezed your hand gently, "Anytime. Let's get you inside and cozy."

As you walked towards your front door, the porch light casting a welcoming glow, you realized just how much nights like these meant to you.

You unlocked the door and Max and you walked inside. The house was quiet and peaceful, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the day. As you closed the door behind the both of you, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to melt away.

Max immediately made himself at home, bounding over to his favorite spot on the couch and curling up with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him settle in, grateful for the simple joy of being back in your comfortable space.

You followed him and sat right beside him, cuddling him. Max laughs, "How much did you have to drink?"

"Not much, just tired now," you mumbled.

Your body felt heavy, and you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up against Max. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety and contentment in his company.

"Hey, you know, my friends have been asking me a lot lately about...well, about us. They keep wondering if we're, you know, actually just friends or if there's something more going on," you said, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Your friends, huh? What do you tell them?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You averted your gaze, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. "I...I tell them that we're just friends. But, I don't know, sometimes I wonder if they're right. I mean, are we really just friends?" you admitted, your heart racing.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you two. "Well, I...I guess that's up to us to decide, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but glance at him, your gaze involuntarily drawn to his captivating presence. His striking appearance and commanding aura made it nearly impossible to look away, even for a moment.

Your eyes met briefly, locking in a charged, fleeting connection that sent a flutter of shyness rippling through your chest.

Despite your best efforts to avert your eyes, you found yourself repeatedly drawn back to him, mesmerized by his alluring and magnetic persona.

"I notice you looking," he replied, his voice soft and teasing.

"I... I didn't mean to stare, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I don't mind." There was a warmth in his tone that put you at ease. "I'm glad you can look at me."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you ducked your head, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not usually this shy," you stammered.

"No need to apologize," he said gently. "I find your shyness quite endearing. Your drunk side is definitely cuter,”

You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his compliment, a mix of embarrassment and delight swirling within you. You managed a small, shy smile, peeking up at him through your lashes.

"Thanks, Max," you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words.

As you stood there, the silence between you two thickening, you heard Max mutter something under his breath. Though you couldn't catch everything, you distinctly heard the words, "you'll be the death of me."

You chose not to comment on it, unsure if you had heard correctly or if your mind was playing tricks on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, making your pulse quicken.

A moment later, Max took a deep breath and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and filled with intensity. The proximity of his presence made your heart race even faster, each beat echoing in your ears.

You could feel the weight of his words settling over you, making it clear that you were no longer just friends standing on the edge of something much deeper.

Deciding to be brave for once, you took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on. "Max, I... I think there's something more here than just friendship. Maybe we should talk about it, figure out what this really is," you said, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to convey your sincerity.

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and the simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. "I've been wanting to talk about it too," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you're too drunk to talk about it."

Max then stood up and said, "And it's past both our bedtime," he gave his hand out, "Do you need help?" You looked at his extended hand, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand in his.

The warmth of his touch was comforting, and you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think I do," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

As he helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness about what the future held for the two of you. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're both clear-headed," he promised, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

You nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the moment of clarity.

"Goodnight, Max," you whispered.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

As you made your way to your room, your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.

Lying in bed, you couldn't help but replay the night's events, wondering what tomorrow would bring for you and Max. . . . .

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The next morning, you woke up with a slight throbbing in your head, the kind that comes from having one too many drinks the night before. Groaning, you rubbed your temples and tried to piece together the fragments of last night.

Bits and pieces floated back to you—laughter, the warmth of Max's hand, and something about a conversation that felt important. But the details were fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away with each passing second.

As you stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found yourself wondering about the look in Max's eyes and the words he had said. The clarity from last night was now a blur, leaving you with a nagging sense that something significant had occurred.

You couldn't shake the feeling that today might bring some answers, and perhaps a chance to finally address the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface.

You decided to dress casually, slipping into another Mercedes shirt, this one adorned with a signature from Lewis Hamilton that you'd gotten a long time ago. The familiar fabric brought back memories of excitement and admiration, moments when you felt invincible.

Topping off your outfit with the same Mercedes hat from yesterday, you hoped the attire would give you a boost of confidence for whatever the day had in store.

As you made your way to the living room, you couldn't help but think about Max and the conversation from the night before. The anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race, and you hoped that today would bring some much-needed clarity.

With each step, you felt a mixture of hope and apprehension, but one thing was certain—you were ready to face whatever came next, no matter how daunting it seemed.

A gentle knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find Max standing there, his familiar smile instantly putting you at ease.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind. The sight of him brought a rush of both relief and nervous energy, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, Max," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you both knew that the conversation from last night needed to be revisited, the unspoken feelings demanding attention.

Max glanced around your living room before turning to face you, his expression serious yet gentle. "You're a bit early today," you began, and he nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure you were good after yesterday," Max stated, concern evident in his voice. He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "No, it's all a bit of a blur. I remember us talking, but the details are fuzzy. What did I say, Max?"

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you could see Max weighing his words carefully.

He took a deep breath before replying, "We talked about a lot of things—your feelings, my feelings, and everything we've been holding back. I think it's important we address it now, while it's still fresh."

You glanced at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened in realization. "Max, if we start this conversation now, we're going to be late for work," you said, biting your lip. The weight of the moment was palpable, but the practical concern loomed large.

Max followed your gaze to the clock and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can't keep pushing this off. How about we talk after the race? We can't let this hang over us any longer."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that there was a plan in place. "Okay, after the race it is," you agreed, grabbing your keys and heading for the door.

Max smiled appreciatively, and together, you walked out, knowing that the conversation was merely postponed, not avoided.

You walked to his car, the tension between you both a silent passenger. The drive felt quick, a blur of city streets and morning light, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence.

Max's hand occasionally brushed yours on the gear shift, each touch a reminder of the conversation that awaited. As the racetrack came into view, a sense of urgency replaced the earlier calm, the reality of the day ahead crashing down.

Before you could fully prepare yourself, you were swarmed by the paparazzi, their cameras flashing and questions flying. Max tightened his grip on your hand, guiding you through the chaos with a protective determination.

"Just stay close," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. You nodded, squeezing his hand back, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.

You two safely made it to the Red Bull garage, Max's annoyance palpable as he helped you regain your balance after tripping over a persistent paparazzo. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration but softened by concern.

You nodded, brushing off the embarrassment as best you could, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. The bustling activity of the garage—mechanics fine-tuning cars, engineers analyzing data—provided a temporary distraction from the looming conversation.

Max's jaw tightened as he tried to shake off the earlier chaos. "Let's focus on the race for now," you said, your eyes scanning the garage for any more paparazzi. "You'll need all your concentration if you're going to pull this off."

You gave him a reassuring smile, determined to support him through the day.

The air buzzed with anticipation and energy, but despite the noise and activity, the unresolved emotions between you two lingered, a quiet storm waiting to be addressed.

"Max, you've got this," you said, giving him a quick, encouraging nod before stepping away. He returned the nod, his eyes briefly softening before hardening with focus.

You left Max to focus on his preparations, giving him a supportive pat on the back before making your way through the crowded garage.

Miraculously, you managed to avoid the paparazzi and found Alexandra near the hospitality area, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.

"Hey, Alex," you greeted her. Your voice was a mix of relief and anticipation.

"There you are," she said with a relieved smile. "I was starting to worry they'd swallow you whole!"

"I thought so too, I don't know why they acted like that," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think it was because of yesterday," Alexandra commented, her expression growing serious. "The rumors about you and Max really stirred things up."

"What rumors?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

Alexandra sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "There's talk that you and Max are more than just friends, and it's got everyone buzzing," she explained, her eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.

"They got a glimpse of you and Max leaving the club holding hands, so they just assumed you two were dating," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed as the memories of the previous night flooded back, the moment innocent but easily misconstrued. "Great, just what we needed before the big race," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

"Is it true?" Alexandra asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. You hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on you. "No, well... I don't think so,"

You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your face. "We're going to talk about it after the race. There's just too much going on right now to sort it out."

Alexandra nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. "I can see how things could get complicated," she murmured, glancing back towards the garage where Max was still preparing.

"Just make sure you both have a clear head for the race. The last thing you need is this drama distracting you."

You sighed, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Alex. We'll figure it out one way or another," you said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Right now, we need to focus on the task at hand."

Alexandra nodded, her face softening with understanding. "I get it. Just make sure you two sort it out. It’s important for both of your sakes, especially with so much at stake today."

She paused, then added, "And remember, I'm here if you need to talk or just need some support. We've got your back, no matter what."

"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot," you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. You stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, needing the reassurance of a friend's support in this whirlwind of confusion.

She hugged you back tightly, whispering, "You've got this," before stepping back and giving you a determined look.

As you both pulled away, you glanced around the bustling garage, the sound of engines roaring and mechanics shouting orders filling the air. "Let's get through today first," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the confidence you didn't quite feel. "After the race, I'll sit down with Max and we'll clear everything up."

Alexandra gave you a firm nod, her eyes reflecting her belief in you. "Good. And remember, whatever happens, we're a team. We'll get through this together," she said, before turning back to her duties, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination.

You walked back into the Red Bull garage, weaving through the busy crew members and the organized chaos. Spotting Max near his car, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Hey Max," you called out, trying to mask any lingering anxiety. He looked up from his preparations, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity and concern.

"Hey," he replied, looking away from his car to glance at you. "Everything is okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just wanted to wish you good luck. Let's focus on the race and leave everything else for later."

Max's expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks," he said, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, I forgot to do something," Max said, grabbing something from the nearby table. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was referring to.

Before you could ask, he reached over and took off your Mercedes hat, replacing it with a Red Bull one. "There," he said with a grin, "now you're properly dressed for the occasion."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Thanks, Max. I guess I did need a little wardrobe adjustment," you replied, adjusting the new hat on your head. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there today, we're in this together."

Max nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "You're just saying that because you got 'adopted' by your idol," he teased, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

"Exactly! You'll have to call me Y/N Hamilton now," you smirked, joining in with the handshake.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Never in my life will I ever call you that Y/N, you know that already."

Just then, a crew member signaled to Max that it was time to get ready for the race. Max glanced at his watch and nodded, turning back to you with a determined look. "Alright, I have to go now. But remember, we'll talk after the race, okay?" he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and support. "Good luck out there, Max. Give it your all," you urged, stepping back to let him head towards his car. Max flashed you a final grin before heading off, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and camaraderie. The roar of engines filled the air, signaling the start of an intense competition.

You took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the outcome, the bond you shared with Max and the team would only grow stronger.

Throughout the day, you mingled with the fans, soaking up the atmosphere and excitement. As the race began, you cheered for Hamilton, hoping for a victory for your home country.

The event kicked off with a thrilling qualifying session, where Lewis Hamilton and George Russell of Mercedes secured the top two positions, narrowly edging out the young sensation Lando Norris of McLaren. Max Verstappen qualified fourth, setting the stage for an intense battle at the front of the grid.

As the lights went out, Hamilton made a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. Norris and Verstappen engaged in a fierce fight for second place, with the Dutchman eventually managing to make a bold move and take the position.

The race was filled with intense on-track action, as the drivers pushed their cars to the limit on the iconic Silverstone circuit. Oscar and Carlos fought their way through the field, making impressive overtakes and fighting for a podium finish.

Hamilton managed to hold onto his lead, with Verstappen and Norris in close pursuit. The battle for victory came down to the final laps, with Verstappen making several attempts to pass Hamilton, but the British driver held firm, crossing the finish line to the delight of the passionate home crowd.

Lando Norris secured a well-deserved third-place finish, with Oscar and Sainz rounding out the top five.

You could feel the tension in the air as the race unfolded, every corner and straight away leaving you on the edge of your seat. When Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line, you erupted in celebration with the rest of the fans, the atmosphere electric with joy and pride.

The victory felt like a triumph for everyone present, a testament to the dedication and skill of the entire team.

You were close by when Lewis got out of his car at the number 1 place and he jumped out to meet his parents. The emotion on his face was palpable as he embraced them, the crowd's cheers echoing in the background.

It was a moment of pure triumph and familial pride, one that you knew would be remembered for years to come.

Lewis then ran over to you and gave you the biggest hug, his joy radiating through the embrace. "We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and gratitude.

You could hardly believe it, standing there in the midst of the celebration, feeling the warmth of his victory shared with you.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a symphony of adoration for their champion, and you felt an overwhelming sense of connection to this incredible moment. As the noise of the crowd swirled around you, Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion.

"Thank you for always believing in me kid," he said, his words sincere and heartfelt. The world seemed to fade away as you shared that instant, knowing that this victory was not just a win on the track, but a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and unwavering support.

"It was all you," you said, smiling through the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. Lewis shook his head, still beaming.

"No, this victory belongs to all of us," he replied, his voice steady and filled with gratitude.

Lewis then left you to go hug his team, the very people who had worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this victory possible.

The mechanics, engineers, and strategists all gathered around him, their faces lit up with pride and relief.

Each hug and handshake was a testament to the unity and effort that had propelled them to this moment. The bond between the team members was evident, a shared understanding of the countless hours and challenges they had overcome together.

As Lewis made his way through the throng, he paused to exchange words of gratitude and congratulations with each person. The joy in the paddock was infectious, spreading like wildfire among everyone present.

The cameras flashed, capturing the raw, unfiltered emotions that painted this victorious scene. It was a reminder that while one man may stand on the podium, the triumph is always a collective achievement, built on the foundation of teamwork and mutual respect.

As you were cheering for Lewis, you didn't realize when Max got out of his car and walked over to you until he was standing in front of you, his helmet still on his head.

Startled, you looked up to see the intense gaze behind his visor, a mixture of disappointment and adrenaline in his eyes.

After he didn't move and all you could hear was his harsh breathing, you quickly helped him with taking off the helmet. As it came off, his face was a portrait of raw emotion—disappointment mingled with exhaustion, yet there was an unmistakable glint of respect in his eyes.

"You were incredible out there," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between rival and friend. He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he took a deep breath. The tension slowly melting away from his shoulders.

He nodded before moving closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "After this, be in my room." A shiver ran down your spine, the unexpected command sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins.

You couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment, the lines between competition and something deeper blurring in the dimming light of the paddock.

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of jest, but all you found was a seriousness that made your heart race. "Max, what are you—" you began to ask, but he silenced you with a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Just be there," he insisted softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something else you couldn't quite place. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

You watched the podium ceremony unfold, the cheers of the crowd and the spray of champagne creating a festive atmosphere. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake Max's words from your mind.

His voice, that hint of something unspoken, echoed in your ears, overshadowing even the triumphant smiles of the winners. As the drivers celebrated, your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment, the weight of his command lingering heavily.

Back in the team garage, the clamor of post-race activities did little to diminish your inner turmoil. You replayed the scene over and over, analyzing every detail of his expression and tone.

What could he possibly want? Why the urgency?

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself drawn inexorably towards his room, curiosity and anticipation intertwining in a complex dance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door, uncertainty mingling with a strange sense of inevitability.

As you walked, suddenly someone took your hand and pulled you into Max driver's room—it was Max. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you found yourself standing inches from him, your breath catching in your throat.

His eyes were intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them that you couldn't quite decipher.

"I needed to talk to you alone," he said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his presence enveloping you. "There's something I've wanted to say for a long time," he continued, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "But I didn't know how, or if it was the right time."

You could feel the weight of his words, each one laden with unspoken meaning. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you knew that whatever he was about to reveal would change everything.

His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. "What is this about, Max?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. "There's something I've been hiding, something I need to tell you before it goes any further."

His hand remained on yours, grounding you as the weight of his words settled in. You could feel the gravity of the moment, the potential for everything to change hanging in the air between you.

Max’s grip tightened slightly, as if drawing strength from your presence. "I’ve been battling with this for so long," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I can't keep it to myself any longer. I’ve been feeling something more than just camaraderie between us. Every race, every strategy session, every moment we've spent together... it’s become clear to me that it’s more than just professional respect or friendship."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his confession. "Max, are you saying...?" you trailed off, unsure if you dared to hope for what his words might mean.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another step closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Yes," he said softly. "I’m saying that I’ve fallen for you. And I couldn’t go another day without telling you, without knowing if you might feel the same."

Your breath hitched at his confession, emotions swirling within you. "Max, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze remained unwavering, filled with vulnerability and hope. "Just tell me how you feel," he urged gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of relief and confusion. "I've been trying to convince myself it was just friendship," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But deep down, I've felt it too. I was just too scared to acknowledge it, afraid it would ruin everything."

Now that everything was out in the open, a sense of liberation washed over you. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a cautious but undeniable hope.

"But knowing you feel the same changes everything," you whispered, a tentative smile breaking through your tears.

Max's eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, a broad smile spreading across his face. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

"You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.

He then pulled back to look at you, his eyes mostly glancing at your lips without any hesitation. The air between you crackled with a palpable intensity, a silent promise of something more.

His breath mingled with yours, creating a heady blend of anticipation and longing. "May I?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, seeking your consent with every fiber of his being.

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart pounding in your chest. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.

The kiss was tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a confirmation of the feelings you both had been harboring for so long. When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.

His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, shimmering with love, relief, and an unspoken promise of a future together. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

"Love you," you whispered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

For a moment, you worried you had said too much too soon, but the way Max's eyes softened reassured you.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, as if he had been waiting to say those words for a long time.

The weight of the moment settled between you, both comforting and exhilarating.

"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Max's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electric.

"We take it one day at a time," he said, his smile widening. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, figuring it out together."

The simplicity of his words brought a sense of calm over you, and you nodded, feeling more certain than ever that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

"That means supporting me before Lewis," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression. "That's a bit of a stretch," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "I might need some convincing before I switch allegiances."

Max laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. "Challenge accepted," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I'll just have to work extra hard to win you over, won't I?"

"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," you replied with a smirk. "But I'm open to seeing what you've got." His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

"Don't worry, I love a good challenge," Max replied with a confident grin.

"By the end of this, you'll be my biggest supporter, just wait and see."

i.t.y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,702,847 others.

tagged; maxverstappen1

i.t.y/n: Hey everyone! I know I've kept you in the dark for a while, but I'm excited to finally share that Max and I are together. We've been enjoying our time together and wanted to keep it just for us for a bit. To make up for the secrecy, here are some adorable photos of Max that I know you'll love.

I have to admit, he's managed to convert me into a Red Bull fan. But don't worry, Mercedes will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your understanding and support. 💙

view comments below

maxverstappen1: Schatje I love you 🫶

i.t.y/n: I LOVE YOU TOO MAXIE 🥰🥰

lewishamilton: Congratulations on your relationship! I hope you both the best 😊

i.t.y/n: Thanks dad! I'll always be supporting you in secret 👍

lewishamilton: @maxverstappen you better take care of my daughter

*liked by i.t.y/n*

maxverstappen1: Yes sir

mercedesamgf1: Don't worry Y/N, we know you will always belong to us 🩵

maxverstappen1: Actually Y/N is all mine and always will be mine so respectfully f**k off

i.t.y/n: Max what did we say about bad words????

maxverstappen1: sorry schatje, @mercedesamgf1 I mean with all the respect I can have, please frick off

*liked by i.t.y/n*

user2: NOT MAX FIGHTING WITH MERCEDES ACCOUNT OVER Y/N????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

i.t.y/n: @maxverstappen1 I was just looking at the pictures of you that I took and you're always smiling in them

maxverstappen1: That's because I love smiling at what's mine 🫶

i.t.y/n: That's so sweet! 🥰🫶

maxverstappen1: Wanna meet me after sim practice??

*liked by i.t.y/n*

928 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 5 months ago

Text

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.”

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure.

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake!

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.”

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo.

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.”

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will.

“where is dad? is he asleep?”

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan?

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?”

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers?

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.”

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel.

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.”

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks.

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.”

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you.

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent.

fuck, were you homesick.

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time.

you always did when it came to your parents.

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion.

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen.

you had to make that happen.

you had to.

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top.

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home.

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home.

this man was billionaire, after all.

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text.

from none other than toto wolff.

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door.

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter.

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you.

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival)

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers.

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race.

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair..

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind.

a crisp knock rang out, startling you.

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting.

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy.

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull.

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears.

this was really happening.

you were really staying with toto.

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.”

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness.

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual.

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows.

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up.

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest.

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?”

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll.

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?”

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold.

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay.

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you.

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there.

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back.

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind.

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole.

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress.

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back.

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you?

downright filthy. sinful, even

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on.

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread.

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him.

god, you were absolutely breathtaking.

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark.

you were so fucking beautiful.

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come.

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

could this moment last forever?

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god.

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure.

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you.

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words.

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you.

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through.

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching.

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia.

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth.

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two.

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god.

oh, fuck.

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space.

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure.

you unravel, coming undone.

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out.

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple.

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent.

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks.

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.”

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring.

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.”

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot.

well, not so little these days.

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?”

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears.

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision.

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts.

“i’m right, aren’t i?”

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head.

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?”

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings?

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper.

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm.

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?”

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished.

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision.

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision.

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season.

you were finally going to be by his side every day.

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel.

he had you.

you were all his now.

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #female driver au #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen

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cheriladycl01 · 6 months ago

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And who are you? - Oscar Piastri x McLarenHeir! Reader

Plot: Granddaughter of Bruce McLaren comes to a race.

Warning: I think maybe some people have considered this a little misogynistic. Obviously women in motorsport has improved and gotten better, but there are still issues involving this and I just wanted to bring some of them to light. I never meant to cause offence so here’s a little warning for that if it not for you!

Again this is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent anyone accurately!

You were the grand-daughter of one of the most iconic men in Formula One. Not only did he have his own team, but he drove for that team as well which resulted in McLaren sports cars all over the world.

When Zac offered you to come to a grand prix, everyone in the team was dreading it. From what they knew you were just another social media girlie obsessed with getting into an F1 race for the clout. However they were oh so wrong.

You'd been karting since a young age, and knew your way around all kind of cars. You were an encyclopedia of everything motorsport and cars. You'd gone to university and studied engineering so you knew more about it all so you were excited to speak to everyone.

You pulled up in your one of a kind McLaren X-FM, perks of sharing a last name with a car and having big stakes in the business.

"Zac!" you exclaimed as you saw him and run over to him. You pull him in for a tight hug and he hugs you back.

"How's my best girl doing?" he grins looking down at you and you nod furiously. You talk for a little longer before he leads you into the garage.

"Dude what are they all hovering around!" Lando asks looking at 9 or 10 of the drivers stood around something. Lando and Oscar walk over to see the most beautiful orange car in the parking lot. It wasn't rare to see beautiful cars at the grand prix because of all the drivers that were there but this was next level.

"Lando did you get a new car?" Carlos asks in awe, elbowing his friend.

"No, I wish this was my car!" Lando sighs running his hand along the edge.

"Oh my gosh, please please be careful if your touching my car!" you cry running over to all the drivers, you'd forgotten your bag of gifts for the team and drivers and came back to get them.

"T-this is your car?" Lewis asks in shock.

"Yes?" you say holding up the keys and opening the door, Charles looking at Lewis in shock.

"Can i sit in it?" Pierre asks looking at you with a grin.

All the drivers weren't only in awe of their car but the girl that had just come running up asking them to be careful of the car.

"Sure..." you say and let him open the door.

"Lando Oscar! It's great to finally meet you!" you smile, your bubbly friendly nature pulling them in for a joint hug. You watch behind them as drivers look inside the car and switch out whose sat in the drivers seat.

"And who are you?" Oscar asks crossing his arms over his chest, not looking to impressed at the current moment.

"Oh my names Y/N! I'm a guest of McLaren today!" you smile, and everyone there just fell in love with you even more.

"Wait... i know you. You're Y/N McLaren!" Max grins, and you look down with a blush.

"Wait ... you're Bruce McLaren's grand-daughter?" Carlos asks looking you up and down, and he was starting to realize Max was right. Your New Zealand accent being the biggest give away.

"Wait, so you like own the company?" Lando asks with a shocked look. You giggle a little before shaking your head.

"No, I have shares in it but I have to be 25 before the transaction occurs...!" you explain and he nods looking over you.

"I can't believe your here, that's kinda crazy! Why have you never come to a race before?" Logan asks kindly and you look down sadly.

"Bad memories for mum, wasn't allowed to go to one until I was 18 but by the time I was I was in university studying" you answer and they all nod, knowing how hard it must have been on your mum.

"What did you study?" Charles asks as his head pops up from hanging into the window on the other side.

"Engineering, your routes will always find a way back!" you grin.

"Oooo that reminds me!" you start to say as you open the passenger side door, it flicking up into the air as you pull the seat forward to get the bags out the back. They were neatly wrapped gift bags in the specific McLaren shade with little white bows.

"One for you!" you smile handing Lando the first bag.

"And one for you!" you grin handing another bag to Oscar!

"I erm need to get back to the garage I have so many questions for the engineers and the mechanics and I don't want to take up more of their time! So ..." you nod towards Carlos who was currently having a feel around in the car.

"Ah yes, I am very sorry!" he smiles getting out. You smile and lock the car before running back off towards the paddock entrance.

"She is nothing like I expected her to be when we first saw her!" Max smiles, liking your vibes.

"I don't like her!" Oscar declares and everyone's head snaps towards him.

"What do you mean you don't like her, she literally WHAT?" Lando almost laughs, looking at his friend and teammate.

"She's too nice... and like ickily perfect" Oscar frowns watching as she bumps into someone just inside the gates of the paddock apologizing profusely.

"Ickily perfect? Is ickily even a word?" Logan asks with a frown.

"No, but that is the only way i can describe it... there's something off!" Oscar declares.

"Mate come on, she gave us gifts and she let everyone look at her cool car ... just because you had one bad celebrity experience here doesn't mean they are all like that!" Lando sighs, before nodding for them all to leave and get to where they need to be in the garage.

"Guys I'm back!" you smile and all the mechanics and engineers look happy to see you.

"Here's my gift to the team!" you say starting to pull out all the baked goods you'd made for them earlier in the day. Brownies, cake ... you name it and it was there.

"Oh thanks Y/N!" one of them says jogging over, he takes a brownie and seconds later groans at the incredible taste that he's being welcomed with.

"So can i ask you a few questions about the suspension of the car?" you ask and he looks shocked for a second before nodding and wiping his mouth clean.

You chat with him for what seemed like ages, talking about the car and the improvements made since the last race and gradually more engineers had started to join in the conversation.

There was a group of people around you as you observed the car, close but not too close that you or McLaren would be fined, just observing the raw mechanics and engineering that went behind it. You pointed out certain things and sometimes it was just observation rather than questions.

"See!" Lando smirks towards Oscar after having watched you talk to the team for a few minutes.

"Okay so she's smart too and is actually interested in the cars ... but that doesn't change my opinion!" Oscar whispers to Lando. He was watching you animatedly talk to the engineers about the car, questioning where they felt the car was at this weekend.

“Dude … come on! What is it about her you don’t like? She’s basically our boss …” Lando explains before turning left and seeing the sweet treats you’d brought in.

“Look she even brought treats … that she baked these herself and wrote a little note for the team with a smiley face and heart … how … can you NOT like her” Lando cries a little too loudly making your head whip round.

You hadn’t heard what he said but he seemed a little distressed.

“Lando, are you okay?” You ask walking over to the duo making Oscar sigh.

“Y-yeah im fine sorry i didn’t mean to yell” he says sheepishly.

“It’s pretty loud in here anyway. I’m not surprised your having to raise your voice!” You laugh, raising your own a little as the sound of drilling and engines occur.

The weekend went by, and Lando stuck around. He was so polite and really kind. A little flirty but you didn’t mind because he was very respectful.

Oscar on the other hand you couldn’t read. He seemed to have this axe against you. This general dislike that you didn’t know where it had come from.

So you devised a plan, to pull him to one side. You stayed put in his drivers room waiting for him to come back from the race. He’d come P4 and Lando had a podium do it was a special weekend for McLaren.

“What are you doing in MY room!” His voice startles you from looking at your phone.

“Please don’t leave before I can talk!” You ask and he looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads.

“This is my room, your the one that needs to leave! I’m not going anywhere!” He cries with his hands up.

“Good, because I’m not leaving till you tell me why you hate me so much!” You ask and there’s an awkward silence of you both just staring at each other. You wait sitting politely on the small sofa.

“Argh I - I don’t … hate you” he sighs and you now look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Oh come on! It’s so obvious!” You exclaim standing up.

“I don’t I just … don’t like when social media influencers come to the race” he sighs and you laugh out loud at the thought you’d been considered a social media influencer.

In some respect you were. You had a large platform and brands would take advantage of that. But it was purely your last name and legacy that got you that platform.

“I don’t know what your experience is like with celebrity’s who come here … but I’m not like them. Whoever has … swayed your opinion on well my kind of people” you mutter the last bit.

“Look I’m sorry for being so blunt and stand offish with you at the start. I didn’t mean too. Truce?” He offers and you mock a thoughtful look on your face before a grin comes onto your face that has him blushing.

“Truce Piastri! Now will you try a cookie for the love of god!” You grin showing him the plate you’d made just for him as he hasn’t eaten any of yours yet!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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pshbites · 1 month ago

Text

enhypen as pro athletes

genre ⇢ reactions, imagines, wtv u wanna call it

wc ⇢ 200 ish per member ? idk

warning(s) ⇢ profanity, loll smth else?

taglist ⇢ @wensurr @nshmurarki @blvengene @sirens-dreams @mimismenu

a/n : erm i should be studying for my chem exam but that can wait 🙈

if you liked this please be sure to reblog and like this! feedback is always apreciated <3 and join my perma taglist here

HEESEUNG… basketball player

- major troy bolton vibes

- he’s got tunes AND hoops

- god forbid you’re at a park and he sees a court

- “this one’s for you baby!!” *misses*

- all jokes aside he has that nba player aura to him

- DEFFF a d1 college athlete who then went pro

- always blowing a kiss to you in the crowd

- TROOOOYYYYYYYYYY

- he would try teaching you how to play but then get frustrated because he’s so passionate

- he’s just good at basketball and he can sing that’s what he brings the table that’s all he got!!!!

JAY… f1 driver

- lol did i give my bias my fav sport… MAYBEEE

- lewis hamilton and max verstappens love child

- oh and he’s a red bull driver

- fashion ICON. always pulling up in the paddock best dressed

- serves cunt on the streets

- he would be a menace whenever you two go go karting.. leaving you in the dust i fear

- you’ll never catch him below p5

- those sassy radios

- you’ll always catch him being snarky on the grid and off the grid

- akshully, he would tweet like lewis in 2014

- “he’s sitting in the middle of the road doing nothing”

- always blowing a kiss to you when he’s on the podium

- the alchemy by ts “where’s the trophy and he just comes running over to me”

- oh he’s looking for you the second he’s out of that car

- he would single handedly bring back red bull dominance

- picturing jay in a red bull uniform.. it’s heavenly.

- sigh i need someone to write f1driver!jay

JAKE… soccer player

- this was a given

- HE PLAYS FOR REAL MADRID NO QUESTIONS ASKED.

- him & that team would get along tooooooo well

- constantly posting q&a on instagram

- this un media trained king

- always mentions you no matter what

- “how are you feeling for the next match?” “great.. so my gf-“

- first thing he’s doing after winning is pulling out his phone and filming

- “LIVE REACTION TO THE WINNING GOAL” and it’s a 25 sec clip of him and güler running around the field.

- his insta story is such a struggle to get thru bc it’s either clips of him and the team on the private jet or a ton of random ass q&as

- “what’s your plan for the next season?” “idrk but today i had waffles for breakfast 😍”

- his interviews are always the most entertaining bc he just says anything

SUNGHOON… hockey player

- this is because i can’t just do a freebie and give him ice skater 😞

- BUT HE DID PLAY FOR THE HOCKEY TEAM WHEN HE WAS LITTLE!!

- he’s not like the other hockey men tho, not overly aggressive

- he’s actually calm when he isn’t annoyed about losing

- one thing about him, he will drag it through the mud if he gets in the penalty box

- kicking ice and everything 😭

- lowk i see him as the teammate who isn’t very public with his personal life

- only time people see him smiling with 50 teeth is when he’s with u

- thinks of his job as more of a hobby

- “so what interested you in ice hockey!” “i was bored…”

- deffo plays for the national team

- just the most nonchalant person there

SUNOO… tennis player

- now hear me out

- blonde sunoo = art donaldson

- LIKE WOAHHHH!!!

- once again on the national team FOR SURE

- does not play when it comes to tennis (idk anything abt tennis 🤣)

- WILL huff and puff if it’s out

- SO sassy

- like side eye when they’re sipping water and changing rackets

- cannot play duos for the life of him

- but he’s GOOD

- nicest person ever out of the field tho

- interviewers love him because he knows how to appeal to fans

- cannot be mysterious for the life of him

- his insta posts are either him or pics of you AND him

- he actually hard launched you on his insta

JUNGWON… swimmer

- i mean,,, have u seen that body???

- the way he dances helps out a lot because he’s very flexible

- oh he’s for sure on the national AND olympic team

- i know a body of water hate to see him coming

- you two could be at the beach and suddenly he’s doing all this fancy shit

- likes to brag about how long he can hold his breath underwater

- like a child “look look! 30 seconds” like yes baby you go!!!

- his personality switches when he has a swim meet though

- literally rbf EVERYWHEREEEE

- the second he’s out of the water tho he’s back to normal

- unfortunately he isn’t a pr nightmare

- too media trained for his own good

RIKI… baseball player

- he’s gonna be eating that dodger dawg 25/8

- idk anything abt baseball so bear with me

- bro is locked in for every single game

- and you alr know he’s in the mlb (america RAHHHH)

- i think he’d play for the yankees

- riki belongs in nyc we know this

- a pr NIGHTMARE.

- his managers hate to see him coming bc he’s just doing anything

- “what do you think you could’ve improved in the last game?” “nothing i’m amazing shut up”

- he doesn’t take anyone’s bs

- not even his own teammates r safe from him

- his social media is full of goofy ass posts or posts that you collaborated with him on insta but it’s only aesthetic bc it’s from your page

- lowk i think he would occasionally posts those pics like he does on weverse like just insane amt of aura in one pic

- probably has a streaming account in this universe too

- “can we hurry this session up i have to stream at 7 😑”

- part time mlb player, full time twitch streamer actually

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fangirl-dot-com · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year

Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT

The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.

I love you all!

“Kid, are those shorts?”

You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden.

You shot him a sheepish grin.

“Quite possibly.”

Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?”

“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.”

A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost.

Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.”

A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you.

“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?”

The question made the men groan.

You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.”

Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?”

Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought.

“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?”

A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re more decorated than I am.”

A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention.

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?”

A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car.

“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.

You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.”

The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season.

Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men.

You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving.

Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated.

Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring.

When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you.

The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you.

“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n.

“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.”

The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.

“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.”

You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022.

“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…”

Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka.

The Champion inhaled before he spoke again.

“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap.

“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.

“Thank you.”

Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go.

You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage.

“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!”

Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures.

One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak.

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.”

Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great.

“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.”

Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up.

“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.”

“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.”

You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder.

“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.”

Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch.

“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.”

Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes.

“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.”

At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name.

“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.”

More laughter from the crowd.

“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.”

You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares.

“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.”

Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max.

“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.

“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved.

“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life.

“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max.

“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat.

“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down.

However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.

Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you mon bebe.”

A groan left his lips.

“You know what it does when you speak my language.”

A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.”

Arthur only rolled his eyes.

“My rookie of the year.”

Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops.

“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd.

You looked up at the Dutchman.

“I’m going to win the championship this year.”

“No you aren’t.”

“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.”

“Sure Charles, sure.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others

y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears

arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband

y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband

y/nxarthur HUSBAND?

maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??

charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????

y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭

box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?

y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good

y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...

lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)

maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people

y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆

sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹

formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔

author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is

y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!

author anything for you kid...anything

charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????

formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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lestappen3 · 1 month ago

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Crashing Down | Part 1

pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader x Lando Norris

word count: +/- 2300

plot: Where reader had a terrible crash two years ago, Lando broke up with her, Toto is back into his scheming ways and Max is just there.

note: I haven't used this account in years, but I genuinely missed writing and thought this was a great way of coming back. I have this entire story planned out, but I am not sure if it's good enough. Please let me know if you're interested.

part 2

masterlist

It was 2024. The new racing season was about to begin, with the yearly reminder that you were forced to stand on the sidelines. The roaring engines of the current generation of Formula 1 cars echoed through the Mercedes garage you were currently settled in.

This sound once fueled your entire driving force, and you first discovered this passion when you visited the racing ground with your parents as a child. It must have been twenty years ago. You were around five or six years old. Since that moment, the sound of engines has been a constant presence in your life.

Anticipation and excitement surged through your body as you lowered yourself for the first time in the car of your biggest idol, Lewis Hamilton. Then, the adrenaline rush followed. It was a moment of realisation as if you had found the path you were destined to follow. This feeling was something you wanted to continue to crave after, and it, racing, became your daily motivation. You were okay with wherever you raced, the important matter was that you were in the car, and the engine roared as loud as possible. The sound became a bittersweet reminder of your unfulfilled dreams as time passed. Instead of contemplating your next race and how you could receive a podium finish or, ideally, take home the trophy, you were consumed by persistent thoughts of missed opportunities and countless “what ifs”.

Your fingers brushed against the faded scar on your upper right leg. It was a hot day, so the scar was visible to everyone. It wasn’t pretty, but you rather had the visual reminder of that terrible Sunday afternoon than the mental one that hunted you daily. It’d still hurt, the ache being a reminder of the crash that had taken everything from you. Your life afterwards instantly became a stark contrast to the life you once lived, and the sport you loved dearly had slipped through your fingers.

As life progressed, with or without your approval, you continued to be a part of the Mercedes crew, but everything changed. Everyone moved on. Your father had to assign someone else your seat. George Russell was your replacement. Initially, it’d hurt to see him wearing your suit, your helmet, and have him sitting in your car. Dinners at home were silent. Your parents were afraid to hurt your feelings by talking about how well George was adjusting next to Lewis. It was a thought that occupied your dreams, but you were better, at least a little better, and you decided you were ready to move on. Perhaps not as a racing driver, but you couldn’t let go of the motorsport entirely. At least not yet.

You stood at the edge of the Mercedes garage, watching as the pit crew worked on their preparations for the weekend’s race. The crew hasn’t changed much since you last were in the garage. Many familiar faces of engineers, mechanics and staff greeted, hugged, and welcomed you back. But you could sense the stress and tension through the smiling faces. Everyone was working more hours than intended to have the best car possible for the first race of the season. Everyone was equally important, including you, whether you were a racing driver or not.

As you stood at the edge of your father’s garage, your gaze drifted across the other side of the grid, landing on the orange-coloured banner of McLarens’ garage. Coincidentally, it was when Lando Norris decided to display his newly found confidence. His arm hugged his helmet tight as he was in the middle of a conversation with a few members of his team. Next to him stood his current girlfriend, watching him like he was the brightest sun.

A pang hit your chest. It was as if someone stabbed you with a knife and then twisted it. Again, and again, and again. You hadn’t expected Lando to replace you as well. The crash had driven a wedge between you, something neither of you knew how to fix. Fear, pain, trauma, and Lando’s career further strained the distance between you. And you both just let it happen. It wasn’t either of your faults. It felt like it was something that was entirely out of your hands. Eventually, the love that was once there was replaced with memories and excoriating silence.

It was hard, yes. But the fact Lando moved on after two weeks was cruel. On the bright side, the pain of your broken heart numbed the pain of your injuries.

Unconsciously, you were twisting the ring on your finger. Honestly, you hadn’t expected to still feel like a drowned, sad baby bunny after two years of not setting foot on the grid. Seeing him, seeing how he’d moved on, was painful, but hearing how the media knew was something else entirely. Your relationship wasn’t a secret, per se. You just never announced it, but people noticed the secret glances and the time you spent together when you weren’t preparing for a race. He never shared anything about you, and you just accepted it. Funnily enough, you still would.

Your father’s voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. Brooding was something you did every day after your crash, and you were thankful your father helped you when you got caught in too deep.

“Hey,” he called, walking towards you.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join the strategy meeting in fifteen minutes.”

You nodded, “Sure, of course.” Toto paused. He was a considerate team principal but an even more worried father. Since you had asked to join the 2024 season, he had been unsure if it was the best for you. Toto gave you a long look. “Are you alright?”

“I enjoyed plotting strategies to outsmart the other drivers, not just outrace them,” you said with a soft smile.

You noticed your father’s smile turn to a worrying frown. You knew he didn’t want to push you. If it were up to him, you were still at home, watching everything from a TV screen, but he also knew it was in his daughter’s blood to be a part of this world, just as much as it was in his. You had the same fire and the same relentless drive to succeed, especially when it came to motorsport.

As father and daughter made their way to the Mercedes motorhome, the world of Formula 1 came to life. Photographers snapped shots of drivers and team members, while the media and fans went into vulture mode as soon as a driver, or someone who looked like one, walked by them. You became indifferent to the whole ordeal after your second race weekend. The grid was the place you had grown up in, after all.

You felt the flash from one of the photographers’ cameras as you walked through the grid. A little smile started to grow on your face. You were not behind the wheel anymore, not one of the twenty drivers everyone talked about, but it was still the only place that felt like home.

Your mind wandered once more, revisiting your days as a racing driver. You had been good, no, not just good, one of the best. However, everyone makes mistakes, and you were no exception. A single misjudgment had cost you everything. The crash had been brutal and a terrifying reminder of the thin line between life and death in the world of motorsport. Fortunately, you had survived, but your career was not as fortunate. Now, all that remained was walking the paddock as Toto’s daughter, attending meetings, and most frustratingly were the pitying looks from those who stole a glimpse of you.

You had almost reached the Mercedes motorhome as you heard a familiar voice rang out. “Wait!”

You turned around to see the current world champion, Max Verstappen, approaching in his usual attire. His confident stroll, with his head held high and a slight smile playing on his lips, carried him effortlessly through the grid. He had always been like that, confident, walking with a certain amount of presence that made it impossible not to notice him. Whether he was the reigning champion or not, he had this essence.

But Max Verstappen was more than just the fiery Red Bull Racing driver, at least to you. He was one of your closest friends and the rock who had been there for you when the world came tumbling down.

“Are you ready for a weekend of chaos?” Max asked, grinning as he stopped in front of you, leaning casually against the stanchion of the motorhome.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “As ready as ever. How about you?”

Max shrugged. “You know me. I thrive on chaos.” His eyes flashed mischievously, hinting at his love for excitement.

The friendship between the two of you had always been stable. It was built on a shared understanding of being born into a family of motorsport fanatics, mutual respect and the everlasting feeling of stepping in a Formula 1 car simultaneously for the first time in your career.

On top of that, Max never saw you as weak, fragile or broken after your accident. He never showed you pity but instead gave you space or an embrace when you grieved everything you had lost.

He smiled, but there was something softer in his gaze when he looked at you. “You know, it’s good to see you out here again. I know it’s not the same, but…”

You swallowed a breath you didn’t know you held and nodded. You understood what Max tried to say even if he didn’t finish his sentence. He was right. It wasn’t the same. It never would be. But being here, the place you used to call home, mended a piece of you you had been missing for the past two years.

Before Max could say more, Toto cleared his throat behind them. “The meeting is going to start soon. We need to go.”

Max straightened and pushed himself off, offering a nod to Toto. “Good luck this weekend.”

Toto smiled politely in return. “You too, Max.”

As Max strolled towards his team’s motorhome, Toto turned to you. “There’s something important I want to discuss about Max,” he exclaimed.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by your father’s sudden change in tone. “What about him?”

“We need him at Mercedes.”

His words lingered in the air, and you blinked, caught off guard by your father’s directness. “Are you attempting to steal Max?” you uttered in a hushed tone.

“He’s the best driver on the grid. We need him for the future.”

Your father’s words took you aback. You had always believed you were destined to be the future of Mercedes, and there was no need for a Max or even a George. But you also couldn’t blame your father, or anyone for that matter. Lost in your thoughts, you realised you had been staring at your father in disbelief as he revealed his plan to take the brown-haired boy away from his supposed forever home.

“I didn’t expect to be involved in some kind of scheme,” you hushed, processing his words.

Toto nodded in understanding, but that didn’t stop him from letting go of the idea of adding the three-time world champion to his roster of drivers. “He trusts you. You have been racing together ever since you were little kids. You have a connection with him that no one else does. If anyone can get him to consider joining Mercedes, it’s you.”

You laughed at him, not believing what your father was saying. Lewis deciding to leave was a little drastic, but this…

He wasn’t wrong though. You and Max were close. But asking him to leave the place that he considered home? He said he wasn’t sure he would ever go. Red Bull was to Max what Mercedes was to you. His loyalty to the team and to Helmut Marko was like family.

“You’re asking a lot, dad,” you whispered, your mind racing with all the possible scenarios. Max could agree, and your anxious time on the grid would be much less, but he could also be enraged at the idea, being so offended by the thought you used him as a pawn to better your father’s team. Perhaps he would leave altogether? How were you supposed to survive this shit show then?

Your father’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “I know, pea, but the sport is always moving forward. We have to think two or three years ahead. I have to think about the future of Mercedes. And Max-”

He thought about his following couple of words carefully.

“Max is the future.”

You glanced back towards where Max went off to, the Red Bull motorhome, where he stood and chatted with a couple of crew members. You sighed, running your hand through your hair. Your father was right, and you hated it. George was good. But Max and George, and with your current expectations for your car in two years? Mercedes could be unstoppable.

But thinking about your father’s plan created a knot in your stomach. You didn’t want to lose him, you weren’t sure if he could be mad, or worse… And then there was Lando…

You pushed your thoughts aside, forcing yourself to stumble back into reality. You have to decide what your future holds. Was it your happiness? Mercedes? Max? Lando? It felt like your head was about to explode.

“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice the most steady it had been today.

Toto gave you a smile of appreciation. “Thank you, but it’s not going to be easy. We need to be careful. Max isn’t going to be an easy sell, but if anyone can change his mind, it’s my daughter.”

You were unsure whether that was a compliment or a burden. You also weren’t sure if it was a good decision.

This was just the beginning of something much bigger, on and off the track.

#f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months ago

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The Best Kept Secret on the Grid {6}

Summary: It's Christmas Eve which means eating out and going home for secret Santa. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, oral WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

Christmas Eve Your spacious penthouse seemed small when it was filled with the egos of a dozen formula one racers. Lewis, Charles and Pierre lounged on the sofa watching a basketball game on the tv. Carlos, Logan, Daniel and Lando were at the wet bar competing to make the best cocktail while Oscar judged them, and not just on the cocktails either. Fernando was using Esteban and George’s height to hang Christmas decorations around the apartment.

The rest of the drivers would have come but other commitments had kept them from joining you for the festive celebrations. You had a little present ready to be sent at midnight and you knew the video would only make them wish they could be with you even more.

Footsteps padded along the hall before your bedroom door opened and you caught Max’s eyes in the mirror as you applied a vibrant shade of lipstick. “You look beautiful.”

You rose from the vanity seat and turned slowly to show off the dress completely, blowing him a kiss when you faced him again. “Thank you, Maxy.”

He curled an arm around your waist, his hand meeting your skin where the backless dress left you bare, and he tugged you against him. “Ready for dinner? I’ve been told the appetiser is to die for.”

“That is high praise from a man who would be happy with a bag of Doritos. Will you tell me where we are going?”

He smirked as his hand drifted down over the material that covered your ass. “Just wait and see.”

The restaurant was unassuming with an unmarked door, and if it wasn’t for the seven sports cars lining the street you never would have known you had reached your destination. You never saw the kitchen, or the staff, as you followed Max and Lewis to the only door that had light spilling from it. You were beginning to doubt it was even a restaurant until you reached the room and found a large round table set with mouthwatering scents permeating the air.

“There’s a seat missing,” you pointed out as the men took their places.

“How could we forget you, darling?” Lewis chuckled as he held a hand out to you.

“We have one for you right here,” Charles said, swiping the middle of the table that rotated at his touch.

“Are you wearing anything under that pretty dress, ma chat?” Pierre asked as he toyed with his plump bottom lip.

Max’s hands ran down your thighs before dragging your dress up until it reached your hips, a collective sound of pleasure answering the question. Lando turned Max’s chair around and offered his hand to steady you as you stepped up and onto the table.

“Are the chefs aware this is a BYO first course?” you teased as you sat down and reclined back on your elbows.

“No,” Max chuckled as he took his seat and spread your legs. “But we have napkins for when you get too loud.”

Lando’s hand ran up your calf, drawing slow circles over your skin and Lewis placed your heel on his shoulder, kissing your ankle. At the opposite end of the table Pierre took your hand and tugged you flat on your back so you could reach his collar. Tugging his tie, you pulled him in for a kiss that inhaled the gasp that came when Max ran his tongue along your slit.

Hands caught the bodice of your dress and bared your breasts, deft fingers teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. Your eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure from their worship and you didn’t know whose kiss, touch, lick or bite belonged to who as you writhed in ecstasy.

Your mind was already a dizzying mess when the room spun and gone was the ticklish beard that had burned your thighs when Max feasted between your legs. The new mouth that sealed around your clit was just as skilled as he sucked and licked you into a frenzy, but the cheeks that pressed to your inner thighs were smooth and gentle on the heated skin.

Your back arched as your muscles tightened and your legs tried to close before new hands spread them wide. “Fuck, George, don’t stop, please…”

Your needy whines grew louder until Nando grasped your jaw and opened your mouth to shove a napkin in. “Shhh, corazón,” he soothed as he stroked your cheek. “We’ll give you what you want, just not yet.”

The table turned and the orgasm that was within reach faded with a frustrated cry. Their taunting laughs only made your core clench as you squirmed as you impatiently waited to see who’s seat you would stop in front of next.

“Sounds like you need some help, sweetheart,” the young American drawled, his fingers running through your wet folds.

“Typical All-American hero to the rescue,” Lando joked to your left.

“Please…” you begged through the napkin as you reached for Logan’s hair. His smirk disappeared between your legs and bliss returned with more stars dancing across your vision than there were on his flag.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure mounted and you were rewarded for your patience with a mindblowing orgasm. Still, he didn’t stop his ministrations as the waves rocked through you and hands pinned your hips down while they drove you to overstimulation.

The tower clock down the street chimed as midnight arrived and you grinned as you eyed the stack of presents under the tree. “Please, can I open just one?”

“If you open one, you have to open them all,” Max replied cryptically.

“I’m fine with that,” you hummed much to their amusement and he patted your hip with permission. You tested your steadiness as you climbed off his lap and found your legs had regained their strength. Your boys had really done a number on you in the restaurant, they were surprised you were even still awake.

Kneeling on the floor beside the tree you grabbed a very neatly wrapped box with a large silver bow in the centre. You gave it a shake and felt something move inside but there was no noise to indicate what it was. Turning it around you found no name on it and frowned. “Is this one for me?”

“They’re all for you,” Esteban said, sharing a smirk with Charles who then said, “You should be able to guess who they are from.”

“Aha, secret Santa,” you giggled before reaching for the biggest gift first. You tore the silver bow open and flipped the lid of the box before plucking the ruffled crepe paper away. “Oh, wow.”

The guys had gathered around and they chuckled at your reaction as you wrapped your hand around the shaft of the dildo. Your fingertip traced the delicate veins that your tongue knew intimately and you met the pair of dark eyes it belonged to.

“Thank you, Lewis.”

“You’re welcome, darling.”

“That was too easy, go for an average size, but no less important, present,” Daniel said with a grin.

Lewis laughed and reclined back comfortably. “I can’t help that my dick didn’t fit in the same box.”

You scanned the rest of the boxes and your jaw dropped in realisation. “How did you even think of this?”

“We thought you might miss us when we go away for training and testing after the holidays, or miss a part of us at least,” Daniel said with a smirk.

“I miss every part of you,” you assured them as you grabbed another box and tore into it. “But this will make the nights easier to bear until Bahrain.”

You pushed the shredded paper aside to see a fluorescent green cock, a laugh escaping as you picked it up. The head was wider than the shaft and your mouth watered at the memory of the many times you had tasted Lando.

“This is very bright,” you said to him as you stroked the phallus.

“So you don’t lose it,” he grinned proudly.

“Yours glow in the dark?” Carlos huffed as he took it from you and inspected it for himself. “I wish I thought of that.”

“You wish you read the instructions properly,” Lando teased before tipping his head to you. “Someone didn’t know you had to shave before sticking your dick in the mould.”

Max winced along with Oscar and Charles rubbed Carlos’ shoulder patronisingly until he shrugged it off and grumbled, “I still have a bald patch.”

“Would you like me to kiss it better?”

His warm brown eyes lit up at the offer and his hands instantly reached for his belt. “Do you know how long I have had a hard on for?”

“The same as the rest of us,” Oscar muttered as he took the replica of his teammate's dick and marvelled at how realistic it was.

“I can think of a few things to help with that,” you said as you waved a hand over the presents. “I mean, Santa’s already come, so why shouldn’t you?”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one smut #formula 1 x reader

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percervall · 1 year ago

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you make it rain (but I make it shower)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Words: 834 Request: Lando Norris + Little Mix - Power + fluff/angst Warnings: Christian Horner, sexism

In which you've had enough

---

“They’re only here for the hot drivers,” the RedBull team principal comments as he walks behind you and Lando. The two of you are watching a group of girls exchange friendship bracelets with some of his fellow drivers, their joy audible as the girls make them remember silly moments that have become inside jokes. Something about Horner’s dismissive tone has you seeing red. You feel Lando’s hand on your shoulder, trying to hold you back from doing something stupid –like getting yourself banned from the paddock.

“No, he needs to hear it. I won’t stand for this,” you brush off your best friend, “You’re such an ass, you know?” you call out to Christian Horner. The man stops and turns around.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me. You should be thanking these girls, they’re the reason F1 has gotten as popular as it has. There’s a reason Daniel’s merch is pulling the numbers it does, why Lando’s own merch sells better than the McLaren stuff, or why Ferrari post literal thirst traps on Instagram every race weekend, and it’s not the 40-something-year-old men with beer bellies clad head to toe in RedBull, setting off flares –illegal flares– in the grandstands. The only reason for your success is because of Max and his army of loyal fans. Every single driver in that number 2 seat has failed to live up to your standards, but then again you also don’t offer them a particularly nurturing work environment. I’m not done,” you say as you see him open his mouth to respond, “Your team has the highest driver turnover rate on the grid. It also has some of the worst transparency when it comes to diversity. I know you hate him, but you could learn a thing or two about how Toto runs Mercedes, about Lewis’ dedication to making the sport more welcoming, and also about profit margins. Their car may be shit, but they’re actually making money. They were also one of the first teams to promote F1 Academy, something your own social media team was quite late with. Gee, I wonder why that is. So please forgive me, Christian, when I say that your opinion of girls and female fans of motor sports means absolutely nothing to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you finish your rant as calmly as you can with your heart hammering in your chest, and walk away from him. Behind you, you hear Horner splutter something about Lando needing to keep his friends in check. You can only imagine what Lando’s reply might be to that. The adrenaline of calling out a team principal on his behaviour is beginning to wear off and you can feel your entire body tremble. You almost jump out of your skin when someone wraps an arm around you.

“Sorry, it’s just me nena,” Carlos says as he stears you into the Ferrari garage, “Horner is on a warpath, you’ll be safe here.” Both him and Charles walk with you to Carlos’ driver room. As soon as the door closes behind you, the tears begin to fall.

“I’m fine,” you splutter at their concerned looks, “I’m- f-fine.” Carlos pulls you into a hug while Charles mumbles something about finding Lando.

“How did you find me so quickly?” you ask, face still half buried in his shirt. Carlos chuckles.

“We were right there, signing some things for fans when it all went down.” Taking a deep breath, you pull back and wipe away the tears. “Pretty sure I’m about to get my paddock access revoked,” you joke through your tears.

“They have another thing coming if the FIA decides to do so,” you hear Lando say as he walks into the room.

“I won’t apologise,” you say adamantly, allowing your best friend to pull you into a hug.

“Good. Besides, what should you apologise for? You didn’t call him names and all of it is true,” Lando replies.

“I didn’t even tell him that even the grid struggled to name drivers during that grill the grid video,” you mumble into his hoodie, much to the amusement of Lando.

“I don’t think the FIA would dare revoke your pass, nena,” Carlos comments from where he’s looking over Charles’ shoulder at his phone. “Looks like someone’s filmed it. The video is going viral on social media already. From what I can see all the women in the comments are backing you 100%. If they ban you, there will be a riot.” You can’t help but smile at that. Wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater, you straighten up and, after saying goodbyes to Carlos and Charles, you walk back out of the Ferrari garage and head towards the McLaren one. Knowing that all the girls in the paddock will have your back, fills you with warmth. Whatever shit was about to come your way, you’d face it with your head held high, back straight and your friends on the grid supporting you no matter what.

I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't sure where to go with this song at first until @curiousthyme allowed me to just word vomit to her to get ideas and this is the result of that. Had so much fun writing the rant (even my heart was racing by the end of it 🙈)

Please let me know what you think! Your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me

#f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #mar's playlist

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leclucklerc · 1 year ago

Text

Hard Carry CL16 - 03. Brocedes Esque

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: It's a one sided fight for the throne. And yet, y/n will still go all out.

Word Count: 5k

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Drive to Survive season 1 episode 1

All to Play For

The screen was black before it changed into a clip of 2017 driver championship. A narrator could be heard on the background, narrating an overview of Formula One. The most expensive sport, a brilliant combination of technology and man-made skills. It’s the pinnacle of motorsport, a true show of speed and adrenaline.

Will Buxton appeared, “This is a sport only for those who wants to win,” he said. “No one is more competitive than all of these drivers.”

“They trained like a jet pilot,” said Christian Horner as he appeared on the screen. “Formula one is a show of how mighty a collaboration between technology and what pure manmade skill can do.”

The sound of whirring engine as Formula One cars passed by the screen, leaving nothing but blurs and shocked gasps. The sound of screeching tires as cars after cars fight against each other. It is a spectacle. An exclusive sport only those who has enough privilege can enjoy. Cheers could be heard, and a crowd of spectators could be seen watching the race.

And then, someone back could be seen. The camera is shooting from behind and it looks like it was a normal race suit. At least, until long cascading hair appeared on the screen.

“Formula one changed,” said Will and a montage of the celebration of 2017’s championship could be seen. Of Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, and y/n l/n fierce rivalry for the title championship.

In a sport that is not known for its diversity, a female managed to become one of the best drivers on the grid. In a sport that is not known for its diversity, y/n l/n proved that anyone could do anything if they want. A show full of determination and fighting spirit. A show full of desperation and fights for her voice to be heard.

Silver, red, and black. Three cars that dominated the season. Each desperately trying to gain a place in front of another.

Silver, red, and black.

The scene change, showing Daniel Ricciardo in the interview room. Daniel could be seen looking around, a bit awkward and yet, there’s still a huge grin plastered across his face. “Are we ready?” he asked, tone full of humor.

“Do you think you can win against y/n l/n if you have the same car?” asked the producer on the background.

Daniel eyes shook, as he looked as if he was thinking about the question for a bit. Though, when he answered, he sounds so sure and without the slightest hesitance. “Yes,” answered the man.

“Yes,” answered Fernando Alonso as the scene changed to him.

“Yes,” answered Max Verstappen as the scene too changed to him.

“Yeah,” answered Pierre Gasly and after that, a speed up montage of the entire grid appeared. All of them are saying yes, confirming their confidence about beating the current world champion.

It’s not a bad attitude to have. After all, Formula One drivers are confident. They’re confident of their skill, of their talent, and of their potential. To drive in Formula One, they have to believe that they’re the best driver on the grid. Having that kind of confidence on your ability, is the very essential to be a Formula One driver.

Shortly after that, the scene changed. This time showing a woman with perfectly styled hair and colored lips. The dark team polo that she’s wearing oddly look like a designer brand, despite it being a uniform that everyone on the team wears.

For this woman, the question was altered a bit.

“If all of you have the same car,” started the producer. “Do you think you can still become a world champion?”

That question made her let out a bark of laugh, as if it was the funniest thing that someone had ever said to her. And maybe it is because it’s been a while since she heard something so ridiculous. Her eyes crinkled and her painted lips are set in a wide grin, showing all of them how amused she is at the question.

“Babe,” she started, amusement clear on her face.” I can certainly beat them even if the rest of the grid is using Porsche and me in a Williams.”

It’s a statement that is full of arrogance.

It’s a statement, that fully show how confident she in in her abilities.

Y/n l/n, three-time world champion.

The opening of drive to survive starts playing.

2013

Y/n first notice something became a bit weird after she won her first world champion.

Back then, she had thought that everything was going great. Porsche is a great team with a great car. She’s getting many attentions, outside and inside of Formula One. She had performed incredibly, managing to snag a championship only on her second year.

The sensational driver. One of the biggest name in Formula One.

Yes, she had thought that everything had been going on great.

That is, until her teammate terminates his contract with Porsche.

It was a bit shocking, considering that he had another year in Porsche. Besides that, they’ve been getting along great. They may not be the best of friends, but she had thought that they’re teamwork had been amicable. They both shared dinners here and there, even went to the gym together. So, hearing that he was leaving the team so abruptly had been a bit of a shock to her.

“Hey,” she called out, catching the attention of the male. “You… do you not like Formula One anymore?”

They may have not been the best of friends, but they’ve been friends alright. The both of them had spent two years together as a teammate. It’s only normal for her to see what is going on and why did he decide to leave the team so suddenly.

She had asked Herman, questioning his decision to leave the team. Oddly, the man had closed his mouth. Refusing to say anything more than that it was his decision to leave Porsche.

Staring at her, the male let out a scoff. “Fuck,” he hissed out. “It’s not funny to hear that from you.”

The female raised an eyebrow, a bit shocked at the sudden show of hostility directed towards her. “What’s your problem?” she asked, moving away to stand in front of him. Blocking his path from the door. “I was just asking why you are leaving the team so suddenly.”

Something in that statement sounds funny to him because he lets out a bark of laugh. His shoulder shook as if what she just said was the funniest thing on earth. It annoyed her a bit. Though considering his bad mood, she doesn’t call him out.

“Really?” he finally said after his laughter lessened. “Really, y/n?”

“What?” y/n asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why are you acting as if I should know the reason, you’re leaving the team?”

“Shit, knowing that you don’t even realize only make all of these worse,” he said, slinging his bag on his back. “Assholes.”

She bristled at that. “It’s clear that you have a problem with me,” said the female. “You wanna tell it to my face?”

The male stared at her. Dark orbs meeting her own as a tense silence fell between them. The tension is thick, not wanting to back off.

“I’m tired,” he finally said. “I’m tired being the second fiddle.”

Y/n blinked, “What?” she asked. “What second fiddle?”

“Second fiddle in fucking Porsche,” replied the male, shoving past her.

She stumbled at that, though y/n quickly regained his footing as she quickly followed the male across the grid. It’s late at night but the place is still full of life. She could see a lot of eyes – drivers, engineers, mechanics – following both of their figure as they shared a heated whispering feat between each other.

“What second fiddle in Porsche!?” she hissed out. “You were fourth in the drivers ranking!”

“And you were number one!” he whispers shouted, glaring at her. “It’s obvious that Porsche will favor you more after this! I don’t want to be treated like that-“

“What favor!?” said y/n, a bit too heated. “I tried my best and-“

“I know you fucking tried your best!” said the male as the both of them stopped just near the exit gate. “I know, but with the way you’re performing right now- I don’t want to be stuck as a second driver in the team.”

Y/n grabbed her collar, dragging his face forward. “So, what if you’re the second driver!? Many drivers would kill for an opportunity to just drive for Porsche in Formula One!”

“There’s nothing wrong being a second driver,” scoffed the male as he yanked back his collar. “That is, if you’re in any other team. Being the second driver in Porsche is worst.”

“What are you even talking about- “

“Think,” cut off the male. “Think y/n, remember these past months and how Porsche is fucking treating you compared to me.”

“There’s nothing different! I- “

She stopped. Y/n stopped because there’s a rush of memories appearing inside of her head. Moments, that had happened even during her rookie season last year.

The way the team had prepared her favorite foods for their catering at the start of the season, despite its being a rare cuisine on the country they’re racing in. The way during the off season she had declined a practice session in the factory due to a photoshoot and Herman had allowed it while her teammate was forced to come despite living in a different country.

How the team had issued a team order to let her pass, raising her ranking while decreasing his. How Herman and the team had always celebrated every victory and podiums of hers, while her teammate watch from the side.

How, the mechanics – even his teammate’s mechanics – are the people that she has a close relationship with. People, that she’s comfortable with. How the race engineers are the people that she regularly have dinner with. Something, she had never seen her teammate’s do.

In Porsche, everyone is someone that y/n is close with.

A team, that was built for her.

Her very own personal Formula One team.

The moment she had her realization must’ve showed clearly on her face because her teammate let out a scoff as he yanked out of her grip. “Realize it yet, princess?” he sneered out before he marched out, leaving her standing there in silence.

That was the last time she ever saw him.

And it was the start of Porsche’s almost yearly change of their second driver.

2017

“You should be careful,” said Lewis in the middle of the 2017 season. It was just announced that her teammate of the year will not be extending his contract with Porsche. She’s not even surprised at this point. “I know teammates can be an ass, but it’s best to not antagonize them.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that.

It was really funny to hear that from Lewis, considering all the drama that happened back in 2016. After all, the feud between Lewis and Nico had been entertaining and yet painful to watch. Something worthy of a soap opera and certainly must be Toto’s worst nightmare. To see two men who used to be the best of friends tearing each other apart as teammates.

She knows that the tension in that team has been unbearable. At least in Porsche, they never let the tension to remain that long considering how they change their second driver every year. With Mercedes though?

When Mercedes paired the both of them, they probably didn’t expect the sheer rivalry that they both had with each other. How they despised the mere thought of losing against each other. How everything has to be a competition between them, no matter how small. Maybe that’s why they used to get along so well. Considering how much they loved racing and how competitive they are.

“You’re really saying that?” asked y/n, amusement clear on her tone. “You?”

Lewis rolled his eyes at that. “I know it’s hypocrite of me,” he started off. “But believe me, I know firsthand how awful it is to have your teammate as an enemy.”

The female laughed at that. Obviously, he would know. “I never antagonize my teammate,” unlike you, remain unsaid. “They just feel threatened.”

He hummed, leaning back on the sofa. “They just got embarrassed at the thought of losing from you. A female.”

Y/n snorted at that. “Well, Formula One it’s not a sport that is known for its diversity,” she said pointedly towards the male.

He let out a laugh. She doesn’t know if he found some kind of sick amusement in that statement or if he just thought what she said is the truth. Probably the second one.

“Indeed,” said Lewis, a faraway look on his face. “Yeah, indeed.”

2018

That certain conversation had always been at the back of her mind.

It rang inside of her head as she won her third championship and saw her teammate staring up at her not from the podium. It rang inside of her head as her teammate terminate their contract from Porsche. It rang inside of her head as Herman introduced Henry to her.

It certainly rang inside of her head as Henry crashed his car into her.

The loud screeching sound that appeared inside of her ear as she could feel her car spin towards the barrier is making her head ache. Truthfully, the impact is not that big, and she certainly had had a worst crash before. Though what made this one a bit special is the pitch-black car that also laid across the gravel in front of her.

Ah, she thought, trying to lessen her anger. Retire. The both of us.

Herman will be so fucking pissed.

Even when her race engineer asked her if she’s okay, y/n really doesn’t have the energy to reply. She merely answered with a short hum, not saying anything besides that. After all, she felt that if she answers more than that, her anger will leak through. Shattering the perfectly crafted image that she had crafted over the years.

Perfect y/n who always smiles.

Charming y/n who is a different driver from her rookie season.

Beautiful y/n who is always laughing-

It seems, all of her effort to lessen her anger became futile when she saw Henry climbing out of his car. She doesn’t know what sets her off. Maybe it’s because Henry doesn’t even look guilty or maybe it’s the fierce glare that he directed towards her from behind his helmet as if she’s the problem.

She really doesn’t know what set her off but almost immediately, her anger surged forward.

Fuck, thought the female as she climbed out of her car.

Fucking hell, thought the female as she took off her helmet.

Y/n turned around, staring at her car that had hit the wall. Y/n turned towards the track, hearing the sound of other cars making their laps.

DNF.

Fucking DNF.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Y/n almost throw his helmet to the floor as she marched back towards Porsche garage. Her hair is a mess and the way her race suit is sticking to her body uncomfortably does not help her temper the slightest. Around her, she could faintly see the wary glances that people gave her. No doubt, a bit fearful at the angry woman.

She doesn’t really care, and she’s also sure that Herman doesn’t care. After all, he has a more pressing issue to tackle. Namely, the two DNF that Porsche suffered during the Spanish Grand Prix.

It’s a tight fight for the constructor championship with Mercedes after all. Having to retire both cars is not helpful at all. The way both cars retired is a bit embarrassing. No, scratch that. It’s so fucking embarrassing and the mere thought of that incident made her had headache.

During the race, Henry who was ahead of the woman after y/n’s pitstop, was asked to let her overtake. Which make sense because y/n got a new set of tires and faster. It was projected that she could pass Lewis and Bottas who was leading the race at 1-2. Porsche needed the team points anyway and y/n is gunning for her fourth driver title.

But of course not.

It’s the damn disease that every Formula One drivers seem to have. Aka, their far too big pride.

Henry – the little shit – decided that he doesn’t want to do that. She doesn’t know what’s his problem or what kind of mental ego that he’s battling with himself, during the race, he decided that he’s not going to let her pass.

Fucking asshole.

The guy is not even a contender for the driver’s title! He should’ve been satisfied to manage to be in the top 6 drivers during his rookie season! But of course not. He decided that he wants to be some kind of hero or some kind of historic driver.

Maybe he wants to be known as someone that finished ahead of y/n. Or maybe he just wants people to know that he’s here in Porsche to be the number one driver. Not the driver that have to stay behind y/n.

Fucking asshole. Rookie little shit.

It’s no brainer that she will try to overtake Henry. It’s no brainer that she’s aiming to win the championship. But no. The little shit decided that he wants to kill the both of them and made them crash against each other, officially retiring both Porsche from the race.

She could still hear the dramatic narration that the announcer made as they crashed against each other. Y/n could almost see her fourth championship slipping from her finger because this is the last thing that she needs. After all, Lewis and Sebastian are tough opponents. They’re not going to let her win the championship without a fight. And don’t get her started with Red Bull growing dominance and Max’s overwhelming talent.

DNF, is something that she doesn’t fucking need at this point.

“Deep breathes,” muttered Luca as he takes her helmet inside of her driver’s room. His tone calm, as he desperately tries to calm the raging inferno inside the female. “Y/n, remember it’s important to stay calm during this kind of situation.”

The female is known as a charming woman. One of the friendliest people on the paddock. She can make friends with anyone she set her eyes on. Always welcoming every person with a perfectly shaped smile and a friendly aura.

Though in the end, y/n is still a world champion. To be a world champion, you need to be some kind of an asshole. An asshole, on the track and on the garage.

“Fuck,” she lets out, taking a deep breath as she leaned back on the chair. “Fucking asshole, he was going to kill us.”

Luca winced a bit at that because yes, the crash was pretty bad. The mechanics needs to stay up all night to make sure that the car will be ready for Monaco. No thanks for Henry.

“Herman will want to have a team meeting after this,” said the man as he handed her a drink. “Obviously to talk about what just happened.”

“They can blame all of it to Henry,” she seethed out, gripping the drink with too much strength. “Asshole didn’t obey team orders! What right does he have to do that!?”

“I know, I know,” said Luca as he patted her back in order to placate her for a bit. “I understand that you’re frustrated, you can tell everyone all about it during the meeting, no?”

“Henry better listens well during that,” said y/n.

The meeting takes place when the race had long finished in the meeting room inside of their motorhome. Y/n had given Lewis a congratulation about his win and Max about his podium before she was ushered inside.

Herman’s face looks scary and the stillness inside of the meeting room too, was deafening. Y/n’s silent anger as well as brooding face also doesn’t help the growing coldness. It’s a bit jarring to see the usually friendly woman looks so emotionless.

On the other hand, Henry clearly looks nervous. It’s clear that the male is a bit scared at how tense the meeting room is. The atmosphere is clearly different from how the team is usually. Y/n really wants to shake his head, because this situation is clearly his fault.

Seriously fuck Henry and his fragile ego.

“What happened today,” started Herman, breaking the silence between all of them. “Is something that shouldn’t happen again.”

There’s a round of agreement across the room. She could feel the eyes that’s staring at her, no doubt searching for a flicker of emotion or a reaction from her. Y/n ignored all of them, pointedly starting at Henry who was sitting in front of her and at the same time, avoiding her gaze.

“Our goal for every championship is to win,” said the team principal, fixing his glasses as he stared around the room. “And Formula One, no matter how it looks, is a team sport. We need to work as a team to achieve that.”

A beat passed, before people voiced their agreement at that.

“Whoever was faster, will have to let the other one to pass,” continue Herman. “If the both of you are at 1-2, the one on the second place should defend from the third place. I don’t care about all of your ego and pride; I want all of you to work as a professional and not be a fucking child.”

Y/n let out a snort at that.

The way Herman said it, it was as if the team doesn’t have a favorite. As if, Porsche doesn’t care which one of them finished first or second as long as they’re using the Porsche car to win. Though, both y/n and everyone – including Henry – knows the hidden meaning behind the statement.

It means to let y/n pass every time. It means that Henry has to defend y/n from the car behind them. It means, that no matter how hard he tried, y/n will always come first.

First driver and second driver. An almost public secret to everyone on the grid.

Y/n is the first driver and Henry is the second driver.

She raised her eyebrows as she could see how Henry clenched his fist tightly. No doubt wanting to refute the order from Herman. Though alas, he also knows that it’s going to be useless. After all, he’s the rookie driver. He’s not the three-time world champion. He’s not the driver that had been in Porsche since the start.

He also doesn’t have a dad who is a major investor in Porsche.

“Everyone understand?” asked Herman after silence descend upon the room. “I don’t want to see this kind of mistake anymore.”

“Yes,” replied y/n, eyes still boring towards the younger driver in front of her.

Henry too, let out a strained smile at that. “Yes, I understand,” he said.

It was a shame, she thought. After all, just like the previous drivers, this is the final nail of the coffin. The realization that there is no hope for them in Porsche as long as y/n is still in the team. To know, that clearly your team have a favorite and it’s not you.

This is the point in time for them to be more or less, annoying.

Veiled insults, ignorance over team orders, blatant manipulation. It’s the same thing over and over again. If she’s someone with a better personality, she would try and discuss with the team on how to make a fairer working environment. She would try to mediate between Porsche and the second driver on how to improve their situation.

But no, y/n is not someone with a better personality.

Many like to praise how different she is compared to her rookie season. That the brash and highly competitive girl in 2012 is now replaced by a friendly and charming woman. A hotheaded rookie now known as the most beloved driver on the grid.

Many likes to say that she’s someone better now. That adulthood had ceased down all of her childishness.

What they didn’t know is, y/n never changed. She only learnt how to put up a persona that will be beloved by everyone. To wear a mask, to hide herself from the prying eyes from the media.

Y/n, is still the loud and abrasive rookie driver.

She’s still hotheaded and can throw a massive tantrum.

Y/n, is still an asshole and Porsche, is hers.

She’s not going to let a rookie to take it from her.

Despite all the drama that happened today, meeting Charles Leclerc is the last thing that she expected.

When Herman had ordered the team to go home for the day, she really didn’t expect to see the guy loitering around Porsche’s motorhome. If it’s anyone else, y/n would’ve thought that they’re doing some kind of company espionage towards them.

But it’s Charles. A rookie driver with big eyes and emotions clear on his face. Emotions, that clearly shows how worried he is right now.

“Y/n!” he called out the moment he spotted her exiting the building.

“Charles?” she asked, approaching the younger driver. “What are you doing here?”

He looks a bit nervous, “I- uh I saw the crash earlier,” he started. “I was just wondering if you’re, okay?”

Y/n blinked. A bit startled at the question, because isn’t that a bit sweet? After all, they hardly know each other. The only time that even had a real conversation was during their first meeting. Besides that, it was only short pleasantries with each other. He didn't even contacted her after she gave him her number, giving her the impression that he's not that interested in her.

Turns out Charles is a good guy after all.

It’s hard to see someone this nice. Especially in Formula One where everyone has a far too big egos and pride – y/n included.

She can’t suppress the grin that’s tugging her mouth. “Well, as you can see, I’m in one piece,” said the female, gesturing towards her body as the two of them began to walk. “Thank you for worrying though.”

“It’s no problem,” he said, almost too quick. “I just wanna make sure that you’re okay, sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” she shrugged off. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to after a shitty day like this.”

“I’m glad then,” replied the male as they walk through the paddock. There are a lot of people, but mostly people from the constructor work who is on their way to tear down each team motorhome.Most of team members already went home at this hour. From the backpack that he’s carrying, it seems that he’s also on his way back to the hotel. “I’m glad that I can help you, even if it’s only a little.”

How nice.

Y/n let out a laugh at that. “Don’t change, Charles,” she said. “It’s rare to see a driver this nice.”

Charles merely shrugged. “If you asked Max, I’m an asshole though.”

“Ah,” said the female. “Yeah, I saw the video, cute kids certainly. The both of you.”

He flushed at that. "It's a bit embarrassing that everyone knows about that now."

"Why?" asked y/n, amusement clear on her eyes. "It's a good story, no? Fated rival and stuff."

"If you put it like that it is a bit nice," said the male, scratching his cheek. "I just don't like being compared to him."

She laughed. "Deal with it, Leclerc," she said as she sling an arm around his shoulder, tugging him down a bit. "The media will always compare you with someone, I guess they want to make the headline a bit spicy considering how boring most of the drivers are."

What she said about the comparison is the truth. For y/n, she had been compared to Lewis and Sebastian ever since she won her first championship. When she first debuted, she was compared against Sebastian a lot. Claiming them as two young talents that had arrived to take over Formula One. Even back when Max first entered the sport, he was compared to her most of the times.

"I guess so," muttered Charles. "It's only my rookie season, after all."

"Precisely," she grinned. "Wait for another season and they will be talking all about your achievements. That is if you able to stay for another season," teased the female a bit.

"I will be," answered Charles lightheartedly. "It's my dream to drive for Ferrari after all."

Y/n nodded, "Good dream, Ferrari is a pretty good team." She knows that Charles is projected to be the red car future driver, but she doesn't know when will that happen considering their current driver lineup. Seb and Kimi is a good pair after all.

But knowing Ferrari?

Anything can really happen.

They continue talking as they made their walk towards the parking lot. It’s surprisingly easy talking to him, as if she’s talking with an old friend. Charles is an animated talker, slipping into French here and there - which she doesn't mind. I sounds cute and she did grew up in France. Somehow, it's easy for her to find a conversation topic. From things like racing to mundane topics like the catering on their team.

Maybe it’s how expressive he is, or maybe it’s because he’s someone that put his heart on his sleeve, making it easy for her to read on his emotions. It was a bit cute and endearing. Y/n thought that if she has a little brother, maybe it’s almost like this.

Their conversation was cut short when it’s time for them to go to their own cars.

"Guess this is it," she said, giving him a cheeky grin. "It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," agreed the male. "I hope we can do this again."

She laughed at that. "I did gave you my number, Leclerc," said the female, giving him a friendly shove. "You can always text me for a chat. Or maybe a call."

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that. "I-" he stopped. "I'll text you!"

"You better be," she said, giving him a sidehug, she said, “Text me later!” to him before she climbed into the car.

Her day became a bit lighter.

Charles thinks he's dreaming.

Text me later?

Text me later!?

Fuck, he hopes he didn’t fumble. Did he say yes? He didn’t remember saying yes. But he also didn’t remember saying no. Shit- what if she thought that he’s being rude!? Did he even confirmed that yes, obviously he’s going to text her after this-

If Pierre was here, he’s going to laugh so hard.

Really, Charles doesn’t know what possessed him that it made him thought visiting y/n was a good idea. He didn’t even got the courage to visit her during good days. What made him thought that visiting her after a bad race is a good idea!? After all, she had a DNF back in the race. A double DNF for Porsche to add salt into the wound. Everyone would have been in a bad mood if that happened to them.

He was half expecting to be ignored or to be met with short answers. But no, y/n was so nice that she had actually entertained his silly attempt of small conversation. He doesn’t even know what they’re talking about throughout their walk because he’s just way too nervous to make sure that the conversation kept going.

Charles had been way too distracted by the smiles and grins that she had directed towards him to even make sure that his brain is working.

Because fuckk.

Whoever said never meet your idols must be delusional because his idol – y/n – is just so fucking perfect.

She’s just like what he imagined her to be. An amazing driver. An amazing woman. An amazing human in general.

And she said to text her!?

Like- like text, text her!?

He’s not going to lie and say that the thought had never passed inside his mind. After all, ever since he first got her number all those weeks ago, he had opened up the messaging up countless of times, fingers hovering on top of the keyboards as he pondered about texting her. It’s a bit embarrassing how often he did that, but-

But it’s y/n! He can’t just randomly text her! She’s busy and-

And yet she told him to text her.

During the start of the season Pierre had told him that it was a dumb move to try to shoot his shot towards y/n - Formula One superstar, a fucking icon, the it girl - but isn't this clearly a sign!? She did told him to contact her!

Eat shit, Pierre.

“Charles?”

Snapping his head towards where his manager is, he mumbled. “Y-yeah?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Were you talking with l/n earlier?” he asked as they both climbed into the car.

He nodded. “I ran into her when I was leaving.”

“I see,” mumbled the man. There’s a certain look inside his eyes, as if he wants to say something to him but at the same time, he’s hesitant. It made Charles a bit confused.

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No,” said his manager, a bit too quick. “No, it’s… okay.”

He didn’t probe further.

Taglist!

@mellowarcadefun @glai1023-blog @jjkclub @newlifeforus @jpg3 @sp1cycurry @eternalharry @be-your-coffee-pot @itsjustkhaos @chanshintien @fairiesdowntheroad @not-laracroft @ilovegreengrapes @nzygftoji @reblog-princess-blog @aaaooz @chasing-liberosis @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @reneny @hiraethrhapsody @stevesworld96 @miniboast @notleclerc @willowpains @lndonrris @laura-naruto-fan1998 @yaren23 @gills-lounge @asfaraslifegets @dl-yum @dessxoxsworld @goldenchemistry @vellicora @neoteez7 @lana-d3l-rey

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classicrubberduck · 8 months ago

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need an alonso scandal primer BAD

Oh Lord, I am tired after work so I will just give a very quick summary:

The Really Big Ones are Spygate 2007, when McLaren were found to have possession of stolen technical information from Ferrari. Fernando had his own mini-scandal within this scandal, when he deliberately held up Lewis during qualifying for the 2007 Hungarian Grand Prix (for which the FIA penalised McLaren and basically told them to get their drivers in line). The next day Fernando attempted to threaten Ron Dennis by sending evidence confirming McLaren knew about the stolen Ferrari information. Which led to Ron Dennis running to the FIA President, Max Mosley, to tell him that he knew nothing about the emails, which led to the FIA re-investigating the whole saga, which led to McLaren getting a $100,000,000 fine, the biggest in sporting history.

Oh, 2007 F1 Season you will always be famous.

Also in the 2007 season, Marc Priestley wrote in his book that Fernando was going around giving his mechanics brown envelopes of cash, which is, how you say, a wee bit scandalous.

Then there was the 2008 Crashgate scandal, when Nelson Piquet Jr deliberatly crashed in order to ensure that Fernando won the race. Who knows if Fernando knew about it at the time, but it's yet another weird scandal he got caught up in.

Then in 2010, there was the Fernando Is Faster Than You incident (yes that video involves Christian Horner being an enormous hypocrite but that aside) in which Ferrari gave a team order for Felipe Massa to move aside for Fernando, even though team orders were illegal at the time. And it was in particularly bad taste given that this was at the Hungarian GP, the race where one year earlier, Felipe had suffered a serious head injury.

In 2012, at the American GP, Ferrari deliberately broke the seal on Felipe Massa's engine in order to give Fernando an advantage on the by moving him to the clean side of the track.

In 2013, Fernando was asked at the Hungarian Grand Prix (what is it with Fernando and Hungary) what he would like for his birthday, and he replied "someone else's car" (valid tbh) and the boss of Ferrari called him on his birthday to yell at him.

Jenson has said that when they were at McLaren, Fernando used to pretend there were problems with the car and retire if Jenson was ahead of him in a race.

And then, when it was announced that Fernando was going to Aston Martin, Otmar said he hadn't spoken to Fernando because he was on a boat with no signal. Literally later that day, Fernando posted a selfie of himself in Barcelona, making it extremely obvious that he was just ignoring Otmar's calls because he wanted to.

I'm absolutely certain there's other things I'm forgetting, but those are the ones that came immediately to mind. As you can tell, not all of it is directly Fernando's fault, but the man's just a magnet for scandal and drama. It says a lot that I said this was going to be a quick primer, and I spent the best part of an hour writing and researching eight paragraphs worth of stuff.

#anon ask #Fernando Alonso #F1

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shorelinessightlines · 10 months ago

Text

Jupiter is often referred to as the star that failed. Max thinks about that, sometimes, when they're racing and he's just passed Daniel on track. He can look in his rearview mirrors and see the little three on the AlphaTauri—Daniel, in a shitty car he outperforms every weekend, and Max, already set for the podium.

When Max is particularly bored, he rewatches old races from 2014, ‘16, ‘18 and thinks about it, unbidden—how if Lewis and Max simply didn't exist, it might’ve been Daniel on the top step at the very end of the season. Daniel fighting for titles and wins, not letting anyone keep the 1st place cap on their head long enough to mess up their hair. If he'd just been a little quicker, a little more ruthless; if he'd stuck around long enough for the Honda engine, the RB19. If Daniel had just been a fraction of a second better.

Then Max feels bad for ever thinking such a thing. Not because it isn’t true, but because it sounds like something his dad would say.

Jos used to buy Max magazines full of interviews by Senna, Prost, Mansell. He said they were full of stars. He laughed at Max when they got home after Zandvoort in 2011, back when Max was still in karting and Daniel was just starting out in F1, and Max had said: "I want to be just like him."

That Christmas Jos bought Max a poster of Nigel Piquet and said, "This is the type of man you should be looking up to." Max hung it up on his ceiling that night and stared at it. He had thought, privately, that if Piquet was a star then he must have been one of those small stars, the ones that you can’t really see from Earth without a telescope. Daniel was closer, brighter. Sun-like.

He tore down the poster the next morning.

Jos was right, of course, to steer Max towards more successful heroes. Jos would never point to Daniel's article in GQ Sports and tell Max he's looking at a star. Daniel smiles at him, though, on the paddock and off, and it feels like sunshine.

He tells Daniel as much during the summer break, in Daniel's Monaco apartment, tipsy off some expensive wine Max can't even pronounce the name of.

"Jupiter is a very stupid planet," Max is ranting, unreasonably pissed about it. "You know, it has ninety-five moons? The fuck does it need ninety-five moons for? Stupid." He chugs another sip of wine, straight from the bottle. Daniel does the same.

"Jupiter?" Daniel muses after he swallows, less inebriated than Max but still drunk enough to have begun sitting on the couch upside down. The top of his skull almost touches the floor. "Mate, don't diss Jupiter like that. Space gets lonely, maybe."

Max snorts. "It is a planet, Daniel, it does not get lonely. It should just have one moon, or no moons. It is not very loyal."

"It is a planet, Maximus, it cannot be loyal," Daniel says back to him, snarky, in a high-pitched voice and a bad Dutch accent.

"Is that supposed to be me?" He shoves at him, accidentally causing Daniel's head to bang against the floor. Whatever. He deserves it. "Name one good thing about Jupiter."

Daniel shrugs as best as he can. "Biggest planet in our solar system or whatever the fuck. Why are we talking about Jupiter again?"

"Because it is awful, and my dad is not correct." Daniel laughs, at that.

"What? Does your dad, like, love Jupiter or something?"

Max points, accusatory. "See, that is exactly the point! He does not love Jupiter! In fact, he is awful about Jupiter!"

Max can almost see the gears in Daniel's head grind together slowly. "Then why are you dissing Jupiter?"

Max groans. His thoughts make less and less sense the more he goes on. "I am not, of course, dissing Jupiter. I am simply pointing out the fact that Jupiter is not a star and you, obviously, are a star." He's getting lost in his own, brilliant analogy.

Daniel says, "Oh yeah, Maxy?" He has his stupid smile on, the one that Max knows means he thinks Max is crazy but will indulge him anyway. "Well it's very nice that you think so."

"Of course I think so," Max scoffs, perfectly serious. He hates that he can't really look Daniel in the eye, sitting right-side-up. He opts to sit like Daniel, head towards the floor and legs slung over the back of the couch, so he can stare directly at him. "I am being serious."

"Well, I'm serious about that Jupiter shit. Best planet ever. Number one Jupiter defender, right here," Daniel slurs, pointing at himself and flashing his brilliant, sun-warm smile.

Max can't help but smile too.

"You are very stupid," he says, and it sounds like something else. "I am trying to tell you that I think you—you." He flushes, cutting himself off and looking away from Daniel, up towards the ceiling.

"Ah, whatever Maxy. You just can't accept Jupiter's superiority."

Max tries one last time, to make him understand. "Jupiter is called the star that failed," he says, trying to prove something.

Daniel is looking at him, he can feel it. His stare burns a hole in the side of Max's head. "I'm okay with that," he says, suddenly very very soft. "Jupiter's the biggest planet in the solar system. He's got a whole ninety-five moons."

"But he is not a star," Max scowls.

Daniel smiles again, smaller. Kinder. "He gets to orbit a star. He gets to be the biggest planet, and orbit a fucking star, the best star in the universe. That's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me."

Max shakes his head and says, "You are unbelievable." He reaches over to grab Daniel's stupid face and kiss him, and promptly falls off the couch.

#dr3 #mv33 #maxiel #raine.fic #i know the whole jupiter thing isn't true ok #just bear with me #f1

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formulatrash · 1 month ago

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really want to hear what you think of the daniel ricciardo firing? I was thinking how almost every driver has this trajectory where past their prime they end up with poorer and poorer teams. Going from maybe championship contending teams to midfielders, then backmarkers before they eventually just slip out of the sport. Only the actual real greats get to properly hold onto the bargaining chips for very long. Like, Michael Schumacher retired with ferrari, came back with merc before finally leaving. Lewis got to pick his teams all his life and now he's going out on a high with ferrari (I presume this is his last dance). Even fernando has had a decent run, which would have been better if he was good at maintaining relationships with teams ig. But yeah, wanted to hear what you think of driver swaps and unceremonius firings as someone who knows the sport so well. And any daniel anecdotes if you're in the mood. hope ur having a good day <3

I've been thinking a lot about it tbh. It's such an... undignified exit. Extremely Red Bull but not what you would expect to happen to Daniel, who's always been a bit of a favourite child there.

He got the early call-up to HRT, replacing Narain Karthikeyan mid-season in 2011 and then him and JEV took the Toro Rosso seats the next year. At the time, the Red Bull programme was probably the most vicious it's ever been, all psychological warfare in rubbish flats in Milton Keynes and Daniel Ricciardo was probably the person who came out of it the best.

the offcuts of the time are easily identified: half of them are in Formula E and most of them are champions now (soz Robin) but it's strange to think that someone who thrived in that harsh world ended up discarded by a much softer version of it, so many years later.

Red Bull were not ready for Daniel Ricciardo to leave when he did, when he decided not to take the chance on Honda and to go to the Renault works team. I know it's often styled out with the Drive To Survive narrative that he was leaving to not be second driver to Max but the Honda thing was much bigger and a lot of people thought Max might be an idiot for staying. after only one year with Toro Rosso Honda didn't look as outright bad as we did the previous year with McLaren but there were still reliability issues and it wasn't the fastest power unit. that Sakura then went on to build an invincible, unfailing, ultra-efficient PU was not written in the stars at all.

I don't, honestly, know if he would have thrived staying at Red Bull - his descent might have been quicker, as the disparity between him and Max could've opened up very fast, in those years of the car turning dominant.

Daniel's problem as a driver is that (and he's said this himself) he's not especially technical. when he has a setup that suits him he's extremely fast but he doesn't know and isn't interested in the further technical details of it and I'm not sure that's actually possible to sustain a career at the top of F1, now.

he had started to suffer with it a bit at Red Bull and it was partly why the car was going more and more Max's way. Renault, I think, were in such a different place - a lot of their problems operational - that he was able to make a bigger difference there through his experience at a top team. McLaren the story wasn't exactly writ large as flayed open and strewn around the track like bits of carbon fibre: Lando could ask for what he wanted from the car, Daniel couldn't.

so: do I think that things would have gone wildly differently if he had stayed at Red Bull? no. he might have won a few more races and he might have found himself in a tororossoalphataurivcarb again a few years earlier.

I think something notable about his career is that it leaves a lot more questions than, say, Alonso's. even though there is no real reason for Fernando to have come back to F1, let alone moved from Alpine to Aston Martin because his championship winning days are coming up for two decades ago, he is still there. and it's reasonably clear why: he is as competitive as the car allows him to be, teams value him as a consultant who can also get to Q3. he does numbers on tiktok.

Ricciardo's departure from McLaren was baffling to both him and the team, neither really able to explain what had gone wrong. and believe me, if the team could have found a way not to be losing points in the constructors championship they would have, they were not sabotaging a driver they were paying millions to, in theory, outperform their other one.

but McLaren sometimes are baffling. despite all the changes in the team since Ron Dennis left, I could well believe that a factory capable of making the 2017 chassis might well not be able to fix their 2022 one. the start of 2023 certainly seemed to support that theory, until that transformative upgrade package made it clear they'd worked out what they needed to do, probably somewhat due to having drivers who agreed with each other.

was going back to Red Bull and then VCARB a good idea for Ricciardo? there were other moving parts there, like the fact Horner didn't really want De Vries anyway and definitely not compared to how hyped up he was to have Ricciardo back. the plan absolutely was to put Daniel in the Red Bull but then he was injured and didn't quite perform how they were expecting.

I asked JEV about it when it was announced because they used to be best mates and teammates and JEV turned down a Toro Rosso offer himself, after his second FE championship. also because I can get away with asking JEV that sort of thing and walking away with my head still attached to my body.

He said "I mean, it’s something I’m looking at from far away. When you make a decision, he has all the information in his hands that you or me or many other people don’t have, so I’m sure he made the right decision. I mean, then it's going to be a question of how he performs against Tsunoda and also against Perez.

"In Formula 1, you need luck, it’s quite well known but you need to put yourself in the position where you you have luck. So if he stayed in his position, I don't think it would have put himself in a position to to be lucky. Now he’s in a position where he can either be lucky or unlucky. It's only up to him but at least his destiny is in his hands."

what he meant by creating his own luck was that if you're in a reserve role you're Schrödinger's driver: maybe good or bad and no one will know until they put you in the car. by accepting the VCARB drive Ricciardo chose to open the box and find out if his career, otherwise in quantum suspension, was alive or dead.

if the first time he left F1 people were still looking for answers, this time it feels more that no one wanted to find them out.

this year the gap is smaller to Yuki, points-wise and it's not that Daniel's been destroying chassis every other week or something, it's just that his time seems to be up. there's no real point having him in the VCARB when that's supposed to be the junior team and he's underperforming too much to get a chance back at the top team. is Perez also underperforming too much to keep his seat there? yes and it's likely to lose Red Bull the constructors but given that, you'd promote Tsunoda not Ricciardo.

F1 is an odd world because if everyone was honestly objective, it would be clear that, no, they are not the 20 best drivers in the world. they are the 20 drivers that most fit into F1 in the world. and Daniel Ricciardo certainly fits into F1 - the outpouring for his final race was about his place in the sport's culture, more than his performance in it.

his dropping was as undignified as the Red Bull Junior Team tends to make it. messy, speculated about in the press extensively, with a lot of leaks and lack of clarity. both theatrical and unceremonial. in all honesty it doesn't compare to, say, Daniil Kvyat managing to leave ToroRossoAlphaTauri four separate times or the vicious decimation of Brendon Hartley or to throw it back far enough, the way they treated JEV. like, hey, at least Helmut Marko just wanted to fire Daniel since Barcelona but didn't imply it was because he was on drugs. but ranking brutality and ugliness in firings is as redundant as the drivers.

did it, particularly, befit a 35 year old with 13 years of experience in F1? no, you wouldn't expect a 35 year old with 13 years of experience in F1 to be in that position. Ricciardo got the strange opportunity of a do-over but that doesn't really exist, you cannot go back to the version of yourself that stepped in mid-season and made his way to a top seat. even racing in circles there's track evolution.

if I was writing this as an article I'd be going back and editing to put the Schrödinger's stuff higher up and calling it like "Daniel Ricciardo finally gets answers on F1 career, just not ones anyone wants" because I don't know, got to put some snappy shit in the headline haven't you. But I'm not and I can't be bothered.

I do think there's something to that, though. to there being an answer this time, as opposed to with McLaren. he exited F1 as he entered it: mid-season, to and from a team no one thought he was going to stay at and I suppose that's an interesting start/finish line under a career that will probably fascinate people more than a lot of champions'.

#f1 asks #sort of want to tag this with the driver in question but don't want to put it in the tag #so #not sure what to do there #does it still work if you put loads of other tags in the way #and then it doesn't pick it uop #let's try that #daniel ricciardo

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cheriladycl01 · 9 months ago

Text

Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver Reader Part 2

Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day going above and beyond for it!

A/N: A Part 2 was heavily requested! I know it's very far from Christmas but still vibes :)

2024

You smile happily at the camera messing with Max and his cap changing the angle that it was sat on his head.

"So we've got you and Max opening your gifts together this time because of scheduling struggles etc. What an amazing year it has been for Red Bull again. P1 for Y/N the first woman in motorsport to be a World Champion and P3 for you Max. Amazing year, amazing team mates and we look forward to having you together for the next few years!" she smiles and you both nod, Max indicates for you to talk first and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm in shock. It was a difficult year. So many people were strong this year, Lando coming in 2nd. Mclaren had an amazing car this year and the battle was continuous for the whole year and you know I think it was way more enjoyable for fans this year" you smile knowing that some people last year didn't appreciate Red Bull's and Max's domination.

"Yeah you know I agree, I think it was a more difficult year this year as we can tell. I think we'll come back stronger in 2026 with Ford as our partner. But the disparity in race wins this year i can imagine was more enjoyable" Max admits with a nod and a smile at you, pulling you into a side hug, he'd become like your older brother in the time you'd raced with him.

"Yeah of course, and it was a crazy year. Even before the season started we had silly season begin with Lewis confirmed move to Ferrari, then the confirm of the Fredrick Vesti move to Mercedes in 2025. We then had Andretti finally be confirmed in the summer break after being rejected in Feb as a 11th team and Liam Lawson and Theo Pourchaire would join the grid, so for a year that we thought would be solid it really wasn't!" the F1 presenter exclaims looking between the two of you.

"Yeah i think everyone was shocked with everything that went on in February, and how the 2025 line up is looking but you know its a fast paced sport both on and off track" you smile and she pushes yours and Max's presents forward.

"Okay here we go, Secret Santa for Y/N and Max!" Max opens his gift first from Oscar, thanking him.

"Okay my turn! I'm kind of scared!" you say looking at the bag in front of you.

"Well theres another present to come as well but because of what it is, we have to wait to give it to you" the presenter asks and Max side eyes you, looking at your reaction as you reach into the bag.

You reach in pulling out a bag of cat treats and a little fluffy mouse toy. After a second of looking at the camera and presenter confused you turn to your team mate.

"I feel like this is from you..." you laugh, observing the treats and mouse toy. However, next second another F1 team member comes up next to you with a ball of fur in their hands making you flinch in shock.

"Oh my gosh, is that?" you ask looking at the little kitten now being placed in your lap. You look over at Max with tears in your eyes before you fully start to cry.

"Oh Y/N!" Max exclaims pulling you into a hug, not realizing you'd have this kind of reaction.

"I've been saying to Max for so long that I'm really lonely these days when i go home from races!" you smile holding the little grey British short hair cat up to observe him.

You hold him against your chest which he happily nuzzles into falling back to sleep.

"What are you going to call him!" the presenter ask and Max looks over in curiosity.

"My immediate thought was Red Bull, but I think that sounds a little silly. Hmmmm I'll call him Perceval" you smile, kissing the small cheek of the sleepy kitten.

"Is that a shout to Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc?" she smirks and your face reddens a little realizing you have in fact used Charles' middle name for your new cat.

"No, No! He's a British Short Hair, and I feel like Lord Perceval suits him as he's grey and knights wore silver armor!" you explain yourself giggling a little at the end as Max nudges you.

"Thank you so much Max, I don't think I'll be able to part from him so he'll have to come to all of my races with me!" you grin, pulling him into a hug, careful not to squish Perceval who is now rested in your lap.

*Flip*

"And here we have Mclaren driver Oscar Piastri who along with his team mate Lando Norris has had a fantastic year in 2024 and has managed to come P5 this year!" the presenter exclaims looking at Oscar.

“Yeah it's been a great season for Mclaren, you know and I'm really proud of Y/N for everything she's done this year you know not just as a driver but as a woman, she made absolute history today winning and taking the championship. I cant wait for 2025, i think with the new rules its going to be interesting to see how the grid changes up" Oscar smiles.

"Okay, so this is your second secret Santa. Here are the said presents!" the presenter says as a large Christmas themed bag is pushed forward.

He reaches into the bag trying not to spoil it by looking in there taking out the first nicely wrapped gift. He carefully unwraps it seeing a Papaya shampoo and conditioner set.

"Love that we are keeping on brand, it's actually very funny because my girlfriend has this exact shampoo set i think" he says observing it, looking to see if it was in fact Lily's choice for hair wash products.

"That wouldn't shock me, its a good brand and her hair always looks so smooth and shiny!" the presenter offers making Oscar blush a little and grin.

"Mmmm next gift feels a little heavier! Oh wow, a whole cricket set! This is between three people now, this is either Yuki, Lando or Y/N because they are the only people I've told about me getting into this again recently! My trainer and I when we go back to Australia normally will play as part of training!" he says observing the painted bat that was fully personalized to Oscar and what he liked.

"Wait, did Y/N paint this?" he asks looking at little things across the bat, everyone knew Y/N loved art in her free time and would always draw or paint for the drivers and the mechanics.

"You secret Santa did yes!"

"Then is has to be Y/N, i don't think anyone has the level of skill Y/N does!" he exclaims before placing the bat down lightly and moving onto the next gift.

"No way" he laughs pulling out a shirt that has that one smiley beluga cat meme on it that everyone compares Oscar to and a picture of Oscar smiling next to the cat.

"This is 100 percent Y/N, she is always saying i look like this damn cat!" he laughs.

"Okay final present is a bit of a odd one because we actually have to show you an announcement video... to show you the present. You've really got into Valorant recently correct?" the presenter asks and he nods with a confused look in his eyes, having no idea what's going on.

"Yeah, I've played COD for as long as i can remember with Logan, and I started playing with Lando. But Lando suggested Valorant with his friend Max who started to play it more. It's my fav game now!" he explains.

"Okay well here is the official announcement Riot will be posting in 3 weeks, first teaser to come tomorrow!" she exclaims before turning the laptop round to him.

On the screen it shows the head of riot talking about partnerships of 2025.

"As Red Bull very kindly sponsor us and our championship competitions, we are giving back by collaborating with Formula One Red Bull driver Y/N Y/L/N. She has created an agent with help of our graphic design team" he says and Y/N smiles.

"This is the second Australian Agent to come to the Agent Line-up and I'm very excited to be able to dedicate new Controller agent Ozzy to my close friend and fellow driver Oscar Piastri, he has been playing Valorant for quite a while so the character design is based off him" you explain after a cut in the video.

"Now please enjoy some gameplay footage of the new Australian Agent!" you say before it cuts to the reveal of the agent. And to Oscar's shock, the character does look a lot like him, its actually uncanny.

"This is such an amazing gift, I honestly don't know where she pulls all these ideas from... its insane how much she cares and listens to people. She's actually the sweetest person ever and I'm so happy to be able to drive with someone like her" Oscar smiles before the video moves to the next person.

2025

"Now unfortunately this wasn't a great season for you, or for team mate Max was it!" the presenter smiles sadly. You'd come P6 in the constructors while Max had come two above you in P4.

"Yeah I mean Ferrari really flew this season with two great drivers like Lewis and Charles, coming P1 and P2, obviously the Mclaren was just as quick if not quicker than last year so Lando is P3, Obviously Max in P4, the Mercedes was very quick this year hence George in P5. It was a risk with the new rules and using Ford as the supplier and the things we've got wrong we know what they are and we've fixed them for 2026 and I think we'll have better year" you sigh. Max was more consistent than you this year, but you were the only Red Bull driver to take a win this year, it was a rough year considering your 3 years of victories prior, but like Christian had said to the both of you, you live and you learn.

"That's amazing to hear! How do you feel Lewis getting his 8th?"

"I think his time in Mercedes had come to and end and I don't find it shocking that he's changed Ferrari for the better and will pave the way for Charles to become a World Champion!" you explain and she nods before pushing a bag lightly towards you.

"Onto more fun things, its that time of year that we all cannot wait for, its Secret Santa 2025!"

The bag was large but as she pulled the presents out she could see that they were wrapped awfully. She tried not to laugh as she separated out the gifts on the table observing each one.

"Okay, I'm liking the choice of paper, it's very festive. I'm going to have to give the person who wrapped these a wrapping lesson at some point though!" you giggle a little before tearing into number one.

"Omg! tickets to go see Captain America: Brave New World!" you exclaim.

"This either has to be my good friend Esteban Ocon, as a fellow MCU enjoyer or its my little brother on track, ie Mr America himself Logan Sargeant!" you ask looking up to the presenter who just giggled.

"Okay, next present is holy shit, tickets to Disney World!" you look up in shock.

"Look on the back who you are going with" she smiles.

"Tickets for me, you, Oscar and Lando! Logan oh my gosh you are so sweet you are literally the best person ever! Merry Christmas and I'll see you behind me on track in 2026!" you exclaim before the cameras cut out.

*Flip*

"George it's been a fantastic year for you coming in P5, and beating last years world champ! How does it feel?" she asks.

"Yeah, i think Y/N is a brilliant driver and its unfortunate Red Bull had as many faults as they did but that just goes to show how with her and Max it's not just the car its the driver as well. I think i would have quit half way through the season if i had as many issues as they did. But that just goes to show their resilience!" George says politely.

"Okay well, It's gift giving season and your secret Santa has most defiantly treated you!"

"Holy shit" he says turning to his left seeing the massive wrapped box and then a smaller bag next to it.

"I'm going to open the big one first!" he exclaims looking at it greedily.

"Of course you are" the interviewer laughs shaking their head.

"This is like, really expensive. No way!" he scans, after having torn the cardboard away from the state of the art bike sat in front of him, everyone knew George liked cycling, so this was a very nice gift.

"Oh and LOOK! It has mine and Alex numbers added together on it" he observed running his hand over the cyan colours, making out as though its a piece of art!

"Okay next one, is these two in this little bag, we have... ooo this is pretty heavy! It's oh okay its a book, The Art of George Russell: Every Shirtless Photo of George Russell!" he introduces before flicking through it showing the book to the camera, there was little personalized annotations on each photo inside.

"I love this so much, I know its Y/N whose got this for me because she has such a unique and interesting sense of humor, hmmmmm there's got to be another joke" he says before reaching further into the bag to pulling out a smaller and lighter gift.

"A Williams hat, and a .... Brazilian Flag Key Chain. Even though these are Y/N's joke presents they are always still so thoughtful. My time in Williams taught me so much that I carried through into Mercedes with me and Brazil was my first Win in Formula One, and it was really just special to me!" he exclaims smiling, placing the hat on his head before adding the key chain to his set of keys that he fished from his back pocket.

"Okay, last present George!" the presenter exclaims shoving a bigger bag towards him that had a bow tying it together.

He pulls open the bag spotting a few different unwrapped items.

"OH! This is a glamping set! Carmen has been begging and begging me for ages to take her camping in the Lake District as I used to do it all the time when we were kids, I tried to explain to her she wouldn't like camping as it gets kind of dirty. So this whole set is perfect!" he admits, looking through the tent, the air mattress and all the other little bits and bobs alongside it.

"Thank you so much for all of this Y/N i really really appreciate it all. I cant thank you enough!" he grins.

2026

"What a phenomenal year its been, we've had Lewis gain his 9th WDC, Y/N 2nd, Charles 3rd, Lando 4th and Max 5th!" the presenter smiles over to you.

"Yeah, I think we majorly fixed the issues we have last year, but I think we've still got some way to go and you know progress doesn't happen in one season so the on look for 27 is gonna be great!" you grin.

"Okay now it's all our favorite time of the year! It's secret Santa!" she comments and hands you the bag.

"Hmmmm, okay first gift these are..." you says as you pull out a wooden box with a carving on the top. You open it pulling on the metallic latch in the edge and spot inside custom chopsticks that had a red dragon going up the length.

"Oh woah, these are so beautiful, this has to be Mr Zhou Guanyu!" you grin holding them up to the camera holding your hand behind them as if you were one of the beauty influences showing of a blush or lipstick.

"Influencer era" you say making sure they could see every angle of them!

"Wait, can you guys get me anything I can test try them with?" you ask and you wait a little before some brings you out some dishes you could use your new chopsticks with.

"Mmm this is delicious!" you exclaim, and quickly finished up the food they'd provided you with.

"Omg these are crystals! Zhou and I were talking about these and the differences in meanings of the minerals"

You would always wear a good luck necklace in your races that got approved by the FIA when you first started racing. Everyone on the grid knew that you were into crystals and zodiacs, you'd have long conversations with Lando about the western Zodiac signs, and how him being a Scorpio worked well with your Y/S/S.

"These are really beautiful gifts, thank you Zhou! I absolutely love them and I will be sure to use the crystals at every race!" you grin smiling into the camera.

*Flip*

"Liam... Liam this will be your second secret Santa, you've had an amazing year in Racing Bulls and we cant wait to see what you do next year!" the presenter smiles looking towards the younger male.

"It's been a great second season in F1, I think after my years as a reserve driver i was starting to doubt myself but I'm glad that I'm here and racing!" he smiles back at her.

"Okay, so with your secret Santa, it's a little complicated. We're going to have to take you somewhere else to show you one of your presents. But here are the first few!" she smiles handing him a medium sized bag.

He reaches in taking out the first present which is a Lightening McQeen plushie.

"Ahhh, i think a lot of the drivers know my love for the man and legend himself, the reason i got into racing so this could be anyone” He reaches back into the bag to pull out a Red Bull team member top and water bottle.

"Oh!" He looks up in shock before laughing.

"This is definitely Y/N! She's helped me a lot through out the season and is helping me to progress each day! Thank you so much Y/N"

“Okay now if you’d kindly follow us, with this blind fold on we will lead you to the next present!” The presenter says offering him a blind fold. Off camera they walk him to the hotel elevator and out to the car park.

In front of him stands a red Chevrolet, with the number plate LM95 RBR which could either stand for Liam or the initials of his idol Lightening McQueen, with the cars number after it and then RBR for Red Bull Racing. Little did people know that you’d pulled a Lewis Hamilton 24.

Lewis was retiring after 28 season. He’d told you earlier, as it still wasn’t public knowledge. And Ferrari had come to you about the replacement, at first you were thinking you didn’t want to leave Red Bull, but a chance at Ferrari was everyone’s dream in this sport.

So you would be driving for Ferrari from 2029 onwards with Charles Leclerc as your partner, who also wasn’t aware about the move.

Obviously you had to tell the red bull team you were leaving and had pushed them to sign on Liam Lawson as their second driver, push him to be the new Max Verstappen and eventually take that number 1 seat when Max retires.

This is why you’d done the tease of the red bull merch towards Liam, and that’s why he looked shocked in the camera because you both were some of the only people aware.

“Okay you can take the blindfold off” the presenter says and he does, and tears build up in his eyes as he sees the custom painted red car in front of him. It was an older model, one that he could modify and make better which made it such a good gift as Y/N new he liked fixing cars as a hobby.

“This is probably the best gift and most thoughtful thing I’ve ever received! Oh my gosh I wish she was here right now” he says a little overwhelmed as he looks at the car.

“But I am, get in loser we’re going shopping” you shout sticking your head out the passenger side window of the car before you open the door getting out.

Liam runs over to you, pulling you into a huge hug thanking you for the gift. Cameras cut as the two of you inspect the car, pointing little details out that he may have missed.

2027

“What a season it’s been phenomenal we’ve had Charles Leclerc get his first WDC, we had Lando come 2nd with an insanely quick McLaren and he gave us a further contract extension till 2030 in his Papaya team! And you Y/N in 4th just a point behind Lewis Hamilton and a point ahead of George Russell. Great season! How do you feel!”

“Yeah I’m feeling great, there are so many names on the grid right now that it’s really spiced up the races and is having some great battles for podiums out there causing all kinds of wins! I’m proud of what we’ve done in Red Bull and can’t wait for another year!” You grin.

“Okay as usual onto presents, now this is an interesting one and I think you will enjoy who your Santa is!” She grins leaning in her hand as she watches you open it.

“Lots of Ferrari Merch, so it’s either Lewis or Charles, I want to lean towards Charles as the WDC this year! But you never know, is Lewis even in it this year? Oh my gosh did he rejoin?” You ask in shock!

“Okay what else have we got here, oh my gosh it’s a fucking Birkin bag!” You scream looking at the camera in shock. Obviously you were friends with everyone on the grid, it was just in your nature. So obviously you got talking to people about what you did and didn’t like. And when you were taking to Lewis, Carlos, Lando and Charles before a post race interview panel, you all got talking about fashion trends you liked. Hence the very expensive Birkin in front of you.

“This has to be from Lewis, but Charles was at the conversation where we talked about this bag, oh my this is difficult” you exclaims before you finalise its Lewis and you make a gesture of excitement for getting it right.

“Thank you everyone and a goodnight, I’m going to sexily walk away with my Ferrari merch tucked inside the Birkin” you whisper up close to the microphone before they capture you walking off in style.

*Flip*

“Carlos Sainz, you’ve been phenomenal in Audi this year how is the car staring to feel?” The presenter asks.

“Yea, I think you know in one season you cannot expect to get it right, but now that it’s our second year it’s coming along really nicely and I can see us being difficult for the 2028 season ahead” he explains well PR trained and ready for anything.

“Okay Secret Santa time! Let’s go” they say after continuing the small Audi on the ride debate.

“Yes I’m excited I see lots of presents for me, which can only mean uno persona, mi Amiga Y/N!” He exclaims and the presenter just rolls her eyes knowing people at this point know if they’ve been lucky and got you or if they have anyone else because of the vast presents around them!

“Okay well let’s see what Y/Ns got for you”

He proceeds to open a medium sized gift which is a jar of chilis that makes him laugh, as he observes the jar carefully.

“I shall give these to mi madre for cooking, she makes the best food with these chilis you’ll have to come try some time Y/N” Carlos says sending a wink towards the camera that fans would later go wild over.

“Oh this is heavier oh, oh it’s golf clubs and shoes, these are mmmm how does Lando say it, ‘lush’? Is that the word im looking for?” He asks coolly as he inspects the present.

He looks behind him, to see what looks to be just cardboard wrapped around something, he deems it in his head to be a canvas.

As he tears of the cardboard and bubble wrap, he’s met with a paining by you that he looked at and assumed must have taken you hours, of him stood by his race car for each year he had in F1. It was a huge canvas, one that looked like it belonged on a wall in a museum, the art on it did too.

“This is, wonderful. I don’t think I’ve seen something so good since Picasso himself” he admits continuing to look over the painting.

“Thank you for all of these gifts, I truly love them!” He admits.

2028

“So this year felt like 2024 all over again, we had the retirement of Lewis, and you are taking his seat in 2028 alongside Charles Leclerc in Ferrari, how does that feel Y/N!” The presenter asks and you smile.

“I think if you ask any driver what team they’d love to drive for before they leave it will always be Ferrari so the fact that I have the opportunity to drive for them in the next few years and try to win a championship again with them, I’d be honoured” you admit smiling.

“And now we know what last years secret Santa really meant for you when you gave Liam Lawson Red bull gear knowing he’d be driving for them in 2029 and last year, no wonder Lewis gave you his Ferrari merch, it’s because you are taking over his seat!” she asks and you just laugh and nod.

“We’ve had a fantastic year we’ve seen Lando take his first WDC, with Y/N coming in 2nd really trying to show her new team she is ready for them! While her team mate Max Verstappen didn’t have an amazing season coming in 7th” they answer and you clap and praise Lando saying how far he had come and how proud you were on him and how it was such an honor to drive on track with him.

“Okay anyway onto secret Santa Y/N!” She exclaims pushing a small bag towards you.

You grin opening it up, to be met with …. A bottle of WKD…

Very random.

“Okay so WKD is like a teen/young adult alcohol in the UK, so my thoughts would be on Lando, or like George maybe??” You ask before the interviewer has an evil and mysterious giggle on.

“So your secret Santa when you found out it was you, got a little nervous. So he prepared this recording for you, and one final present” the interviewer says before turning the laptop to you and shocking you see …

“Charlie?!! He’s my secret Santa?” You ask in shock.

“Hello Y/N, I will admit I panicked when I was given your name in secret Santa, I’ve had a crush on you since way back in the karting days when I first met you. So, as your secret Santa, my other gift to you, is a date with me! I also hope you like the final present I made for you! I cannot wait to be your team mate, and maybe more if I’m lucky in the future”

The camera pans back to you and your face in bright red, an unflattering blush in your already sun kissed face.

“Here’s the other present” the presenter says tentatively pushing forward a neatly wrapped presents, the work for sure of Pascale Leclerc.

You open up the contents finding the original CD case you’d give him, for his secret Santa back in the day. You open it up seeing a cd and a slip of paper fall out. On the paper we’re all the song titles which had something to do with you, or your career.

He’d quiet literally placed your life inside songs …. And that was quiet the gesture.

“What a whirlwind of a year 2029 will be huh!” You joke before the cameras cut off!

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