#most beautiful guy in F1 and he is not even on the grid right now

[mv1simp]

I have heard your prayers dark!max simps, rejoice now and go forth in peace 🙏

What You Need ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend’s Girlfriend!Reader

I got everything you want with me, I do everything he does times three. he’s what you want, what you want (I’m what you need)

You've just started dating Daniel and find yourself spending a lot of time with his old team mate, Max Verstappen - who's dark gaze and wandering hands always seem to be on you. It's okay though, Max cares for Daniel as a friend and by extension you too, right? You have no idea Max had already decided long ago you were the perfect girl...just not for Daniel, but for him instead.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! reader, manipulative dark!max, size kink, cheating, very dubcon, somnophilia, drunk!reader, Daniel is a bad bf for plot, 4k WC

Max Verstappen stares at you across the crowded room, the dozens of drunk and dancing people at the house party he was at doing nothing to distract him. You’re giggling prettily at something a friend had said, lifting an almost empty wine bottle to your pink glossed lips and not noticing the heated gaze of the 3 time F1 world champion. As always. He tilts his head, a lion eyeing a baby deer, studying your profile and ignoring the attempts at conversation people make to him.

You’re a mystery to someone like Max - a guy who always has whatever he wanted. He drove the fastest cars in the world, fucked the hottest models, and lived in a penthouse in a city with the most expensive real estate. Everything he desired was at his fingertips - except you, Daniel's Riccardio's newest girl. He had no idea how his former team mate had found you amongst all the trashy influencers and plastic models in Monaco. You’d recently started coming to the paddock, quietly cheering on Daniel in his RB garage several spots down from Max's own first place spot - and that was where Max met you the first time. You were a natural beauty, so sweet and innocent, easily got along with the others on the grid, and were smart, too - studying to be a doctor. And to top it all of you didn't seem to even care that Max was Max Verstappen, world champion - which only intrigued him more.

The first time you talked was when his car had skidded out badly on the RedBull practice track, leaving a nasty cut on his forearm that you had patiently sutured and bandaged, sweetly explaining how to look after his wound with a concerned expression. You really were the perfect girl, and Max had decided right there and then that he had to have you for himself. You were wasted on Daniel - and besides, you two had barely started seeing each other a few weeks ago, just “casually” the Australian has said. Daniel was an idiot for not making it official with you. Ah well, all the more easier for Max to claim you instead.

But you never seemed to have eyes for anyone but Daniel, which perplexed the Dutchman to no end. Max was the one in first place, in the top team that every driver dreamed about, the richest and fastest one on the grid - while Daniel drove as a second rate RB driver, a shadow in the glory of its primary Red Bull team. Yet you'd be beaming at Daniel excitedly as he finished P12, while only shyly saying a brief congratulations to Max in P1 at the afterparty. Max was never one for losing, though - he just needed time to get you to give in and accept everything he could offer you. There was no way you would be happy with a 2nd rate driver - no, he knew what a diamond like you really wanted was someone like him. And it had been easy enough to be around you more and more under the guise of hanging out with Daniel.

Like that time he'd invited you both to his yacht for New Years'. He'd seen your eyes light up in awe at the luxurious vessel, and later than evening when everyone had gone to bed but you were still out admiring the stars, he easily came upto you, large hand grazing your back, standing a lot closer than one might to a girl his mate was dating.

He'd casually pulled a diamond choker out from his pocket and held it out to you on a thick finger. Your eyes had gotten wide at the beautiful gift - big, crystal clear jewels with a dangling pearl "M" in the centre. To say thank you for fixing my cut, he explained. And the M for your last name, right? You had blushed and stuttered uncomfortably at the romantic gift, refusing to accept it - Max, is this Cartier? Oh my god, how expensive was this?

Max joked that his hands were a multimillion asset and you deserved a fitting gift for saving them. Besides, it's rare in my line of work to meet someone so genuine who actually cares for me. You'll take it, right? Since we're friends now? You'd felt guilty at his pouting expression, hesitating but having no choice but to say yes - it was just a friendly thank you, after all, right? He stepped behind you to put it on, his lips brushing your ear as he bends down to your petite height. He doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch and smirks as he traces a large palm along your neck before bringing the clasp together. Wow, Max, it's truly so beautiful, thank you, you breathe, entranced as you look at the jewels - Daniel was so lucky to have such a caring friend! You completely miss how Max gazes down your cute summery off-shoulder dress, his height behind you giving him the perfect view of your delicious tits - where a pearl M now dangles just above them. He feels a delicious satisfaction at the sight of you in his necklace, on his yacht, and within his arms. Yeah, it's beautiful, he agrees, smiling with just a touch of darkness. Looks great on you. You smile back innocently, not realising the M around your neck didn’t stand for your last name but rather for the M in Max.

Another time, you and Daniel had joined Max's extended group for a weekend retreat to St Tropez. Max hadn't seen you in a while, since you had been busy sitting final exams. But the wait had been worth it when he saw you in your cute little baby pink bikini and gold waist chain. And it had only gotten better when he found you later, dozing alone on a sunbed in the Spanish heat, your idiotic boyfriend nowhere in sight and leaving you unprotected to Max's predatory advances. You blinked your eyes open sleepily as Max set down a chilled G&T at your side. You thank him sweetly, too lazy to sit up properly and just lean over to suck up the refreshing drink from the straw, giving Max an enjoyable teaser of what you might look like sucking something else of his. Sorry I haven't been much fun, you say apologetically, especially after you've been so nice to invite me. I'm still catching up on sleep from my exams.

Max assures you not to worry about anything, telling you to nap to your hearts' content, making you giggle cutely. You look around, trying but failing to see Daniel and pout cutely when he's nowhere to be found. He'd promised to put sunscreen on my back, you explain, slumping back onto the comfy cushion with a yawn. I'm really sorry to bother you, Max, would you mind? I don't want to burn-

Max snatches up the golden opportunity, Don't worry, schat, he reassures, and you tiredly file a mental note to google that word later. I'll take good care of you. You smile at him gratefully, closing your eyes as he slowly rubs across your tantalizing caramel skin with his large, rough palms. You never notice how his steely blue eyes greedily roam up and down your body, but you do gasp in surprise when he slowly undoes one of your bikini strings, turning to look back at him - just have to get under them to apply it properly, sorry, you're a little burnt here, Max’s apology sounds so sincere that you say Oh, of course, turning back around and feeling silly for getting worried. So you don't question him further when he undoes the other set of strings on your bikini top, your back now completely exposed for him, and his warm palms feel sooo good against your aching muscles that you accidentally let out a moan. This time you hastily apologize but Max chuckles, saying your shoulders carried the tension of a hostile terrorist-hostage situation. He offers to give you a hand with a deep muscle relaxation massage he uses.

You hesitate, not sure if this is pushing the boundaries of what's okay, but when Max says that he does this for Daniel all the time, you relax, surely Daniel wouldn't mind then, right? It's all too easy to fall back into a light sleep as Max continues to rub the stress out of your sensitive little body, his hands so much larger and stronger than your boyfriends’ that it makes you feel reallyyy good in places you didn’t know you could be. You're too content to care when Max's touches drift down your sides, grazing against the full swell of your tits, or when he goes lower, and lower, and your bikini bottoms are now undone and he's squeezing across your juicy ass, making you moan sweetly while half asleep. You're completely soft and relaxed underneath him, forgetting that your own boyfriend hasn't yet touched you in the intimate places Max now had. If you had looked back you would have seen Max lazily stroking his erect, big cock as he stood over you, taking some pictures for later as he spreads your pliant chubby thighs and zooms in on the wet slick that had started to gather in between your legs and drip down then. Smirking to himself with the proof that your body was so affected by him, he jerks himself off with rapid pumps, breathing heavily as he shoots a large load of hot, white streaks all over your tan ass. You hmmm at the feeling, jiggling your hips, but don’t bother fully awaking to investigate as Max huskily leans down and whispers in your ear that you just needed a bit more cream there, sweetheart.

You nod, settling back into a comfortable sleep as Max rubs his cum all over your ass territorially, smirking darkly at how innocent you were. By the time Daniel returns to your side, he finds you still snoozing peacefully, your bikini tied back up in perfect little bows and Max long gone.

As the days went on you found yourself more and more in the company of Max, and you couldn’t deny the flutter you felt sometimes now when you looked at the older Dutch man. He was so handsome, so generous, and so considerate of you - so much more than Daniel was - and you felt immensely guilty at the disloyal thoughts that would spring up. Especially since Max was just being a good friend to you but you were starting to develop all sorts of inappropriate feelings. One training weekend you decided to be a good girlfriend and took a freshly packed homemade lunch down to the Redbull track to energize your boyfriend.

Max caught sight of you first, and easily fed Daniel some bullshit about the RB social manager needing him to review an insta post - just on the other side of the track. By the time you walked into the garage it was just Max, who told you that Daniel had gone out for lunch, actually, one of his friends was in town. That French model, I think? Oh! Yep, the one who was in Vogue last month.

He didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that spread onto your face as you were informed your boyfriend was out on a lunch date with a model. Oh, you say, feeling insecure and stupid that you’d come all the way here - but Max easily wraps a strong, comforting arm around your shoulders and reassures you, insisting that you join him for lunch instead and surely come for a ride, yeah?

He completely takes your mind off your worries by speeding you around in his racecar on a hot lap, and you’re screaming in pure excitement and delight, one hand automatically grabbing his large thigh. He’s so much faster and smoother than Daniel, and you bite your lip as you watch him sexily manoeuvre through tight corners. Afterwards, your stomach is all queasy from the speed and he laughs and helps you out of the car, and you end up having a picnic by the waterfront with your homemade grilled sandwiches and slices of lemon cake. God, this is so good, Max moans as he scoffs down a second slice. You’ve completely ruined my diet. Daniel’s so stupid to miss out on a lunch like this. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never spend a meal away.

You blush at his words, feeling flattered but also a little on edge - it was a bit strange of Max to wonder what it would be like dating you when you’re dating his friend, right? You pick at the grass, suddenly avoiding his gaze and feeling guilty again. Max notices immediately, eyes narrowing, but changes the topic to ask about how your studies were going to which you respond enthusiastically. Afterwards, you thank Max for being such a caring friend and knowing just how to cheer you up. You miss how his jaw clenches at the word "friend", because he would much rather be known as your boyfriend - or preferably, husband.

Later, for good measure, because he never did things half heartedly, he asks his good friend - the French model on the Vogue cover last month - to swing by the RB station and greet Daniel, his mate who’s a big fan and would love to meet her. Conveniently, the paparazzi just happen to capture the moment when she kisses his cheek, and within hours the photos have blown up about Daniel's latest fling and you’re being sent it by all your friends. It leads to a huge fight between you and Daniel, making you storm off only to end up calling Max, crying and apologising but asking if he would pick you up. He’s all too eager, arriving within minutes in his sleek Aston Martin, all comforting and warm as you sob into his secure chest and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. But despite it all you still shakily smile and thank him, saying you should head back and work it out with Daniel. You were just too sweet and loving for your own good. Max needed to step up his game plan - if it wasn't money, status or his charm, how would he sway you into his arms?

The final piece of the puzzle came together at the Barcelona Grand Prix. The Redbull and RB drivers all happened to be sharing a hotel that weekend, and as Max is walking back to his room one night he hears moaning coming from Daniel’s room - the one that he knows you’re sharing with him. Being the perv he is, Max doesn’t hesitate to crack open the shared ensuite door and see his naked ex-teammate rutting up against your plump ass, sliding his small dick back and forth between your asscheeks as you lay on your stomach - fully clothed in a shorts pajamas set, looking almost bored. Confused, Max tries to figure out what the fuck you’re doing - only to get his answer when Daniel pathetically whines please, honey, please can I take these off, I want to be inside you-

No! You snap at him, turning to face him with a glare. I told you, I’m saving my virginity for marriage. Stop asking me. This is all you get.

Oh, shit. You were a fucking virgin? Max’s jaw is practically on the floor and it takes him a few minutes to collect himself before he quietly closes the door and leaves to ponder on this new information. You really were the perfect girl for him. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word - until no one had any doubt about who you belonged to. He smirked, already hatching up a diabolical plan.

And that was how Max now found his gaze fixed at you, barely a week later, at this house party where you’d clearly had too much to drink. Swiping his phone out his pocket, he shoots a text to his very helpful friend the Vogue model again - this time asking her to help out a certain Australian driver who was quite sexually frustrated at the moment. Having sorted out the issue of your boyfriend for the time being, Max strides over to you, who’s now all alone in the kitchen messily trying to pour another drink. You’re dressed in the cutest little pleated miniskirt, stumbling on matching kitten heels, and Max feels all the blood rush to his cock as he sees you’re wearing the diamond choker he gifted you.

You haven’t seen him yet so he comes up behind you, guiding your hands to pour the drink smoothly. You giggle, assuming your boyfriend has arrived, and rub your ass against his crotch. Daniel! You exclaim happily, turning around and burying yourself in the Redbull hoodie he wore. Mmmh, baby, you’re here! You love when he wears this hoodie, because sometimes you like to cuddle it and wonder - just for a few seconds! - if it was Max's arms around you instead. Not that you'd ever admit these illicit thoughts to either party.

Meanwhile, Max’s eye twitches at the insult of being called the name of his supbar ex-teammate, but then you’re rubbing your pink nails all over his shoulders and back and pressing your soft, curvy body against his much larger frame and drunkly whispering have you been working out? You’re sooo much bigger and musclier than I remember you being, it’s super hot!

Max can’t help chucking at your cute antics, telling you let’s go somewhere more quiet, baby. Grabbing your drinks, he easily tosses you over his shoulder and exits out the back door to avoid your friends, slapping your ass for good measure as your miniskirt rises up, making you yelp in excitement. He definitely must have been working out because you can't ever remember when he has lifted you so easily before! He leads you into the dark and empty pool house, well and truly away from any prying eyes.

Throwing you onto the plush sofa, he purposely leaves the lights off as you squint up to see his dark, tall silhouette. You whine for him to come closer, asking where did the music gooo and after connecting to the speakers he drops down next to you. You climb eagerly onto his lap, excitedly yapping about how much you love this Redbull hoodie. His large hands automatically come up to rest on your ass, thick fingers sliding underneath your miniskirt and pulling your thong to the side as he begins teasing your slit. You instinctively grind against his leg, pushing back against his fingers, cause wow, baby, when did you get so good at this? You meet his eyes finally when you lean in to kiss him and you squeal in surprise as you realise just who you’re desperately humping. Mmmh-Max?!? Ohmygod what are you doing here-

Max is immediately annoyed that you seem to have come to your senses, but as you begin to pull away, he hatches a new plan. I just came to tell you the bad news myself, schat, he says earnestly. You’re confused at what he means but he pulls up his messages and shows you a video (his friend works very fast, after all) that has you recoiling in disgust. But Max makes sure that you see every second of it - of the French model filming Daniel’s pathetic scrunched up face as she rides him into oblivion, him moaning please can I come, mommy?

Max has to resist his snort. Fucking pathetic. You could do so much better - with him. Sorry you had to hear it like this, Max lies through his teeth, not sorry one bit, I just wanted you to hear it from me and not the news outlet. But you just climbed on top of me and began doing all this and I couldn’t stop it-

His guilt trip works perfectly and you’re back to bouncing in his lap, teary eyes, saying I’m so sorry Maxie, that’s all my fault, I thought you were Daniel but I guess we’re broken up now, can I make it up to you? What can I do?

Bingo. Tilting his head, Max smirks darkly at you. Can you just use your lips to drain some of the stress, baby? It got all tense cause of your grinding. You widen your brown doe eyes, confused but he just guides you down with a strong hand to sit on your plump ass in between his legs. My lips? You say breathlessly, and Max nods, guiding your head to his crotch as you immediately start sucking on his straining bulge. Like-like this Maxie? You ask innocently, voice muffled. Not quite, Max strains through gritted teeth. Unzipping himself, he guides his thick length out against to rest against your face with a thwack. Your eyes go wide at the size. Maxie is much, much bigger than your boyfriend.

Ex, the world champion corrects, as you accidentally say it out loud. He’s just an ex now. Now, you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?

You nod obediently and sloppily take him into your mouth, choking and gagging as you go. Max moans blissfully as he finally has you, angling his flash onto your face - just to help you see what you’re doing, he lies sweetly - whilst recording the filthy blowjob he’s tricked you into performing. You moan around his length, Max is always so thoughtful towards you! You’re determined to clear up any ounce of tension your earlier actions had caused him - not noticing that his cock is only getting harder as you coat with it your saliva and lip gloss.

Swearing at your eager mouth and nearly finishing early, Max sadly has to put an end to this as he has other plans in store. He manhandles you again, this time carrying you in his arms up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Before you can orient yourself he’s yanked his clothes off and climbed on top of you, asking you to open your mouth wide so he can check you’ve drained him properly. You do so dumbly, and Max messily spits before shoving his thick tongue down your throat as you start moaning again. Mmh, don’t think you got it all, sweetheart. Max says disapprovingly. Plus, you made me all messy with your lipgloss. How am I going to go back to the party like this, huh?

You go teary eyed again at the demanding tone, anxious you’d made Max mad. You beg to suck him off again, promising you’d lick up all the mess this time, but he sighs, running his hands through his hair and saying not enough, think I need to relieve it a different way. You nod eagerly, whatever you need Maxie, but squeal in suprise when he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up over his shoulder, flipping your skirt up and ripping your panties in half to expose your dripping pussy. Maxie- Ohmygod, what are you doing, is this really- you’re babbling frantically, hearing a voice at the back of your mind tell you Max was taking this too far.

Max cooes words of reassurance at you, Shhh schat, this is the only way to feel better, okay? You’ll help me out, right? After I helped you?

You hesitate but give in, unable to resist your growing desire for the handsome driver. He grins cockily at you, leaning down and lapping at your intimate parts with his skilled tongue, saying he just needed to make sure you were all relaxed first before he started. You feel bad that you’re enjoying it this much, since Max has to do all the work himself, but it feels soo good, and you moan Max’s name over and over as he starts sliding his fat aching cock in between your slick folds.

Almost there, baby, he hisses, sweat running down his back as he yanks your crop top off, leaving you in the sparkly choker with his initial across your heaving tits. He turns the camera back onto your blissed out face again, wanting to capture the expression on your face when he enters you for the first time. You smile back adoringly with your doe eyes, unaware of just how long of a night he had in store for you or how many times you would come apart on his cock, your precious virginity now all his.

And the next morning when you’d arrive on the paddock, meekly walking past the RB garage and straight into Max’s Redbull motor home, he would reply to Daniel’s confused texts with a picture of his hand across your bejeweled throat, hickeys littering your tits, so that there would be no more questions about what you were doing at Max’s side. Just how you were always meant to be ❤️‍🔥

—————————————————————————

A/N: GUYS I need to write some fluff after this I feel like I’ve objectified this poor man with like 7 straight smut stories in a row omllll

[musaslullaby]

I'm sorry

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4

Summary: The race didn't go as planned.

Face: people on Pinterest, Bianca Bustamante and the driver

Warning: Most of the grid has a small weakness for you. It's a series

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: It's Friday, then it's Saturday, Sunday what??

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and other 9384934802

f1lover: The kiss??

vroom: Who wouldn't? ❤️ Like to author

Race: Go girl.

user34: What a shame.

user12: Just a way to get attention.

lewishamilton: If Mr. Dad gives me permission, I'll give you a kiss on the cheek.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Dad???? Plssss.

maxverstappen1: Daniel, say no.

charles_leclerc: Reminder, we have a race today, Daniel.

carlosainz55: Be careful with what you do.

danielricciardo: You have my permission. ❤️ Like to author

Formula: Daniel fears nothing and no one.

one_: I want a dad like Daniel.

Olliebearman: It's been nice knowing you, Daniel.

kimiantonelli: You were a good father. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: The best dad in the world.

danielricciardo: You’re exaggerating.

landonorris: Absolutely not.

op81: The McLaren cap?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Nice, right?

landonorris: It looks even better on you. ❤️ Like to author

user32: I don’t understand how drivers are into this girl who has nothing special.

user4: They’ll realize it soon.

lewishamilton

Description: The kiss

liked by kimiantonelli, Yn.official, and other 49892923898

oscarpiatri: I wish I were Roscoe right now.

kimiantonelli: Me too.

landonorris: She looks beautiful even with sunglasses.

georgerussell63: She looks good in everything. ❤️ Like to author

Love_: How are they so relaxed before a race?

user34: She’s relaxed because she knows she can’t compete with the others.

user3: She can only watch and learn.

user56: The dog doesn’t seem happy to me.

Race: Actually, if you notice, he’s literally melting into the hug.

Formula: He’s perfectly calm, or else Lewis would have stepped in.

charles_leclerc: Where did you get those sunglasses? I want them toooo!

Yn.official: Sorry, but they’re only for cool guys. ❤️ Like to author

carlosainz55: So are you telling me?

Yn.official: Mmm let me think, no. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: That’s my girl. ❤️ Like to author

f1

Description: During this race, Yn Yln lost control of the car and crashed into the barrier. Fortunately, we know she's okay, but there's a lot of disappointment.

liked by charles_leclerc, lqndonorris, and other 98989898

f1lover: Don’t worry Yn, you did great anyway.

Race: Guys, let’s remember she’s new to F1.

Vroom: We need to wait for the interviews to know more.

One_: Did you see her face when she got out of the car?

Ynmyqueen: Yes, she looked so sad, she had tears in her eyes.

Ynmylife: Yn, remember you’re amazing, don’t get discouraged.

OllieYn: Keep fighting.

user45: This is what happens when you flirt with drivers instead of training.

user6: Go back to F2, Yn.

user12: She shouldn’t even be racing anymore.

user78: I wouldn’t blame them if they fired her.

user9: She would deserve it.

Yn.official

Description: Guys, I’m really, really sorry. I promise I’ll do better next race.

liked by Olliebearman, oscarpiastri, and other 723672376

landonorris: Please don’t cry.

oscarpiatri: It happens to everyone to lose control of the car.

charles_leclerc: You made a mistake, and it’s human to make them. Don’t worry.

georgerussell63: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

kimiantonelli: Yn, seriously, it’s all okay.

Olliebearman: Haas didn’t blame you, so you don’t need to worry.

f1love: Yn, we love you.

Race: You won’t lose your job.

Vroom: Don’t apologize, everything’s fine.

danielricciardo: Sweetheart, don’t keep watching the crash video on repeat, it won’t change anything.

lewishamilton: If you need anything, your parents are always here.

user0: Please, stop pretending to be sorry.

user8: Yeah, now she has to play the victim, so she’s crying on Instagram.

user78: Yn, we don’t want to hate you, but you don’t do anything to make us love you.

user23: Guys, poor thing, let her pretend a little longer.

user5: Disgusting.

landonorris

Description: I'm going to cheer Yn up.

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, and other 27727288

charles_leclerc: Give her lots of hugs from us.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: I wish I were there with you. ❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: Cabron, do what we can’t. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: I’ll be there soon. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: She won’t admit it, but she wants you there.

maxverstappen1: I swear, if you make her cry even more, you won’t make it to tomorrow.

landonorris: Don’t worry, I’m not that bad.

georgerussell63: But your sense of humor is awful.

landonorris: No, it’s not.

Olliebearman: Are we sure?

kimiantonelli: Absolutely sure?

formulaone: What a sweet thing.

one_: Norris is such a sweet guy.

Race: Such a good guy.

Vroom: Please, Yn, don’t cry.

1_11: I’m sure the second photo wasn’t meant to be posted by Yn.

user54: Yeah, sure, all just for views.

user6: Let her cry.

user9: It’s a fact, she did awful in the race.

Yn.official

Description: The little girl needed her father.

liked by yourcousin,danielricciardo , and other 88238239

comments restricted

danielricciardo: The father will always be by his little girl’s side.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: I don’t know what I’d do without you.

danielricciardo: You probably wouldn’t have eaten those delicious desserts. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Which you definitely didn’t make yourself.

danielricciardo: Shut up, Lando.

yourcousin: Yn, don’t get discouraged. Being a woman on the grid isn’t easy, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up for your mistakes.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Thank you, I love you.

yourcousin: I love you too, darling. ❤️ Like to author

kimiantonelli: Are you feeling better now, Yn?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Yes, thank you all so much.

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @exotic-iris13

[zyonsay]

Wildfire, Chapter Two MV1

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: You almost scored a win, but Max wouldn't let that happen. The McLaren boys want to take your mind off of things!

Warnings: Swearing, Max is a bit of an asshole,Reader has anger issues, Slight Violence, Alcohol, Ki ki ki rah sweat sweat

Now playing: 'Monaco' by Bad Bunny

AN: This was a STRAIN! School is beating my ass recently and it's really difficult for me to get anything done BUT i really want to write this fic!

(Here is the previous chapter)

(Here is the next chapter)

The race season was in full swing, and you’d been doing well. Max had, as per usual, always taken the victory, but most of the time you were on the podium next to him. You were a great new asset to Red bull, and many of the fans seemed to like you. You started discovering more and more memes about you on Instagram and Twitter that would make you chuckle. (Or X? Man idk)

People saw you as a two-sided coin, since your charismatic, silly moments were accompanied by boiling, blood red rage when something messes up the race. Numerous fans compared you to Max when he first entered F1, calling you a “Smaller version of Mad Max.”

You guys’ interactions felt like witnessing two proud stags smash their antlers against each other. No full-on fights have ensued yet, but the tense feeling between you two can be felt by everyone from miles away. It was like the calm before a storm, electric energy surging through the air, waiting to strike when things get any more heated.

Your sassy, provocative nature could bring his blood to a boil easily, often causing him to glare at you from far away or leave some snarky remarks while passing by. This dynamic wasn’t optimal for Redbull, having two drivers who clash off the grid might also clash on the grid. As long as the situation wouldn’t get worse, they’d let you two entertain the fans bit more, but Christian kept a close eye on both you and Max.

Usually your bickering was harmless,

But today you could’ve strangled him right then and there in the paddock after the race. Luckily Horner got a hold of you and dragged you away, you felt like an angry dog being put on a chain outside the house by its owner.

What happened a few minutes before angered you deeply. Max profoundly refused to let you pass him, even if you had to brake to not crash into the rear end of his car. You could’ve had the first place if it weren’t for him blocking your way. Saying you were enraged was a pathetic understatement. You were steaming with rage and wanted to smash his head against a wall.

You, Lando and Oscar were strolling towards an Ice cream truck that Oscar had found on google maps. The race weekend was over but many of the drivers decided to stay a bit longer in the beautiful city. Tough it was extremely hot, which was the reason why Oscar and Lando wanted to go for Ice cream, what they didn’t tell you tough is that they wanted to distract you from your conflict with Max.

After paying for your Ice cream, you three made your way to a bench, sitting down and enjoying your refreshments. You chose pistachio ice cream, savoring the sweet, nutty taste. “Have y’all heard about the party tonight?” Lando glanced at the buildings nearby, enjoying the fancy exterior, thinking about snapping a pic for his .jpg account. “I mean, we all know that there will be one, but I didn’t catch any specifics.” Lando now looked at you and Oscar. “Danny told me about it, it’s in the grand Casino at eleven O’ Clock. I really want to go, but I wanted to drag you both with me. Are y’all coming?” He mustered up his best puppy eyes and began pouting. A hearty laugh escaped you, almost causing you to drop your ice cream. “Sure dude! I can’t wait to have some fun.” Oscar grinned, agreeing with what you said. You guys spent some more time shopping and checking out some must-see sights of the city. Lando bought Oscar a little Koala plushie with sunglasses calling it "Oscahs Doppelgänger.” You really liked hanging out with the two McLaren boys, spending time with them meant lots of joking and messing around.

“Hurry the fuck up Y/N, its almost eleven!” Landos voice rang over his obnoxious banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and checked your outfit one more time in the mirror before heading out. You were greeted with a friendly smile from Oscar and Lando who looks like he’ll bounce around the walls like a gummy ball. He could’ve well exploded on the spot with excitement. He and Piastri were both a tiny bit older than you, but Lando was still a kid at heart.

Lando, Oscar and you walked through the city, heading straight for the big, fancy Casino. Even from far away you spotted a familiar, smiley face. “Oi! Danny!” You waved at him, gaining his attention. He was smiling broadly as usual, walking up to your little group. “Hey guys! Looks like Lando managed to drag you along, eh?” He was obviously wearing one of his flash banging party shirts, it wouldn’t be Daniel Ricciardo if he wasn’t wearing something obnoxious, right?

The four of you chitchatted for a while, when Oscar asked: “Were you waiting for someone?” Daniel looked down at his wristwatch; it was already five past eleven. “I was actually. Me and Max wanted to meet up at eleven. Don’t know where he is, maybe he already went inside.” He shrugged, glancing you way as he noticed you tensing up at the sound of the Dutchman’s name. You definitely haven’t forgotten the race earlier that day. The guys stayed quiet for a few moments as the chilly night air blew around your legs, contrasting with the warm weather during the day. Lando was the first to break the silence. “Can we finally go in?”

Once you entered the gigantic building, colorful lights and the smell of overly expensive alcohol flooded your senses. A few familiar faces were dancing, drinking, and laughing, but there were also many you didn’t know. Daniel led the group towards the bar, buying you all a round of shots. “Gotta start the night the right way!”, he laughed before downing the burning liquid. The vodka fueled the sparks in your guts and turned them into a fire. You were going to have fun tonight.

Suddenly a loud voice appeared behind you. “Hey Danny!” You froze for a second before turning around and facing the man you’ve been wanting to murder since this morning. “Oi, Max! Thought I’d never see you!” Daniel abandoned the bar stool to pat Max on the back. Oscar, who was sitting next to you, turned in your direction and whispered. “We don’t have to hang around with him. Let’s just leave- “, you interrupted him, “No. Its ok.” You were too busy glaring at Max to notice Oscars worried expression, not that he thought you’d attack Verstappen out of nowhere, but he was concerned that a teasing comment from Max was enough for you to snap. As he later would find out, it was.

Max didn’t pay any attention to you, obviously not feeling as irritated as you were. The casino was warm from the sheer number of people inside, the loud music mixed with laughing and chatting. Daniel was going on about some experience he had the day before while exploring the city. You were halfheartedly listening to your friends rambling while you were observing your friends’ mimics. Your eyes landed on your fellow Redbull driver. He was listening carefully, asking a question every now and then. He then glanced at you quickly, catching you looking at him. Max then quickly looked away again.

After a while, Lando pulled you away from the bar and towards the dance floor. He was definitely drunk by now and was all giggly and happy. “C’monnnn, dance with me!”, Lando slurred.

It must’ve already been a few hours since you arrived at the Casino, but time flew by so fast. Oscar stated that he was getting tired and wanted to go home in the next hour or so, while Lando was as lively as ever and could go the whole night. You agreed with Oscar though, since you were tired and had an appointed Press conference for tomorrow. Daniel and Max wanted to stay a little longer but agreed to accompany you outside to say goodbye. Once outside, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The city was illuminated by bright lights and a howling wind was brushing through its streets. Daniel stopped, facing the rest of the group.

“We definitely gotta go out together more often!” Lando nodded enthusiastically, glancing your way as if inviting you to go out with him more often.

“Yeah, once Y/N doesn’t hold a grudge against me, I saw those glares.” Max laughed, but you couldn’t help but judgingly glance at him. His face was red and his posture a bit wobbly.

“You’re the one complaining about me during Interviews.” The venom in your voice was very apparent, you made no effort to hide your disdain. Max looked hesitant for a second before his expression hardened. Daniel seemed to feel awkward, not exactly knowing how to deal with you two firecrackers. Max focused his eyes on your face, not wincing under your glare. “And you were the one crying around about me winning this morning?”, he laughed again, seeking eye contact with the others as if to justify his words. The McLarens Aussie next to you looked deeply worried, as If he already suspected what happened next.

The blood in your veins began boiling, you could literally feel it. A heavy push from your side caused Max to stumble back. “Don’t fucking go there you dick. You just couldn’t handle me winning, right?” Your fellow Redbull driver was now shaken awake, glaring at you with a bitter look on his face. “Don’t get mad at me because you lost, fucking Dickhead.”

You were SO ready to ruin his stupid face with a good punch.

…but before you could actually get violent a certain Honey badger stepped in. “Lads, calm your tits! I think it’s best if we all go to our hotel rooms now.” Oscar was holding you back, worrying what would happen if he’d let go of the raging man in his arms. The other McLaren boy was standing next to you guys, unsure what to do. Daniel gave Max a heavy pat on the shoulder and gave him a serious look. “Let’s go get some sleep, buddy.” Max’s eyes never left yours, like a hunter stalking its prey.

But you won’t budge under him.

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 6:

Because these things will change, can you feel it now?

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: sexual harassment, assault

"Damn you look good in all red!" I said and looked at Charles in his Ferrari race suit "I mean Seb looked suave… but you? Damn!"

"Stop it, Lizzie!" he chuckled as he checked himself in the mirror, after a while his look changed and I saw him tear up. I jumped up and stood next to him.

"They’re so incredibly proud of you, Charles! Your dad and Jules wished for nothing more than you making your way to Ferrari one day! And that day has come! I know they can’t be here, it’s only us… or well me right now… but Charles, I’m so, so proud of you! This is what you always wanted and you achieved it! This is amazing! You’re amazing!" I said and Charles turned to look at me, a tear running down his cheek.

"That you’re here means the world to me, ma belle!" he whispered and kissed my cheek before hugging me "Thank you for always being by my side! No matter what!"

"There’s no place I would rather be, than here with you, Charlie bear!" I answered and he smiled at me.

"I always ask myself what I did to deserve you, my beautiful, sweet and perfect Lizzie!" he whispered under his breath and it was so quiet, I wasn’t sure he wanted to say it for me to hear, but he just hugged me even closer and I felt the butterflies fly like crazy.

"And what is it exactly?" I asked and the fellow female drivers around me nodded agreeing.

"It is basically a racing series only for female drivers." Catherine Bond Muir said "It’s our way to show that girls or women do have a place in motorsports. To show inclusion."

"Inclusion?" Jamie asked and Jessica next to me just huffed.

"Doesn’t it only divide? Having a series only for female drivers instead of making a way for us in Formula 1?" I said and Jamie nodded

"This is just the first step, to show that female drivers deliver an attractive performance." Catherine said.

"We’re around 50 drivers? How many of us will race in the series? And how will you pick out the lucky ones?" I asked.

"You have to complete 10 modules that will test your skills in racecraft, fitness, media training and sponsorship pitches, before a final knockout series of races that will decide the 28 drivers that will progress into to the next stage." she started to explain and I scoffed, looking around a lot of other drivers didn’t like what they heard as well.

"I never heard of a male driver to complete modules in media training and sponsorship pitches to gain a seat in F1?" I said and Catherine nodded only.

"It’s simple Miss Doetterer, you’re women, people will have their opinion about you, so we need to find the perfect drivers to represent all female drivers to show that you’re perfectly capable of doing what the men do. And for that we need you to be not just the best drivers but also the most approachable, the most interesting, the most well-spoken drivers out there." she answered and Jamie laughed.

"You mean you need good drivers, who also look good and smile nice into the cameras and say only good things about the series?" she asked and Catherine sighed.

"To put it bluntly: yes. That’s what we need from you." she answered.

"When do these tests begin?" Jessica asked and with that the selection of the drivers for the 2019 WSeries began.

"You made it?" Charles looked at me with big eyes as I hung up "Come on, ma belle! What’s going on! Tell me!"

"I’m racing in the WSeries! 10 races, one in Hockenheim, I’m one of the 18 drivers they’ve selected…" I said and Charles launched at me and hugged me tight.

"I KNEW IT!" he almost shouted it and I began to laugh, as I felt the relieve washing over me "They would be stupid! You’re the best female driver out there! You’re even better than most of the guys on the grid! God Lizzie, you’re a better driver than me!"

"Ok stop, Charlie bear, that’s just not true! But thanks for saying it anyway!" I laughed and he just shook his head.

"You know that I would do absolutely everything to bring you into F1! I was talking with Seb about it, how we could do it but unfortunately we didn’t came up with a plan ‘till now!" he said and I looked at him with big eyes.

"You did what?" I asked and he only nodded "Charles that’s ridiculous! F1 is not ready for a female driver, probably never will be…" I said and he sighed.

"Doesn’t matter, I will fight for you!" he answered and I gave him a kiss on his cheek, but when I looked at him I was blushing at his sweet smile.

"Thanks Charles, really!" I whispered and he hugged me again.

"Always, ma belle."

"LIZZIE! LIZZIE! LIZZIE!" the fans shouted as I got out of the car. Putting on my cap. I looked around and saw a bunch of people with the German Flag, caps with my initials and driver number, all shouting for me. I couldn’t contain my smiling and waved to everyone.

"Hi guys! Thanks for coming! Hi! So good to see you! Thank you so much for your support! You’re amazing!" I said and signed pictures of me, smiled for selfies, signed caps, flags and shirts.

"Lizzie! You’re so cool! You’re like the best driver on the grid! Overall I think you’re the best driver!" a little girl said and smiled the biggest smile.

"Thank you so much! Maybe not the best driver! But it sure means a lot when you say that!" I said and she just smiled even more "Here, for you!" I said and took my cap off of my head and used her sharpie to sign it.

"Oh my god! OH MY GOD! Are you sure?! You’re so, so, so cool! Thank you so much!" she said and hugged me. I smiled as I took more selfies here and there and waved to the mass of fans.

"Charles, it was so surreal! They were screaming my name! MY NAME! Can you believe that? Waving the German flag! They wanted selfies with me! ME! Me signing their cap, pictures of me, random stuff!" I was giddy and couldn’t stop smiling as I FaceTimed Charles before the race.

"Of course I can believe it, Lizzie! I always told you that people will love you! How can they not! I’m so happy for you, ma belle!" he said and his smile made me even more giddy and happy.

The next race would be in Assen and not only my entire family would be there, also Charles and Arthur would come along with my friends. They watched me snatch Pole position with a flawless lap and all stood at the barriers to congratulate me.

"That was a phenomenal lap, ma belle!" Charles whispered as he hugged me and I just smiled at him. I saw Ben and Michael approach me and they both hugged me.

"You did absolutely amazing, Liz!" said Ben and smiled at me.

"Fantastic job, Lizzie!" Michael, his dad and my manager said and I just smiled the whole evening as I went to dinner with my family and friends. I could see Charles looking at me one or two times with a look I couldn’t quite interpret, when I talked to Ben, who joined us and wanted to know all about Daniel.

"You okay, Charlie bear?" I asked him as I sat down next to him and he just nodded and smiled his all consuming, dimples showing smile.

"I’m just so proud of you, ma belle! Fourth race. Fourth pole. And I bet my ass tomorrow you’ll take your fourth win as well!" he said and when he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear I blushed. Hard.

"We will see I guess." I said breathlessly and Charles laughed a little as he realised why I was so flustered but didn’t say anything.

"I’m 100 percent sure, ma belle." he answered and with that we left the restaurant.

I sat on a stack of tires, gathering my thoughts, calming myself down.

"Lizzie?" I heard a male voice and turned around. It was one of the reporters who I just answered some questions about the season, I couldn’t remember his name but I was sure he was from a Spanish website.

"Uhm, hi…" I began and jumped off of the tires.

"Salva Diaz, Marica Sports Spain." he said, reading my mind "I just wanted to speak to you personally."

"Okay? About what exactly?" I asked a little confused as Salva looked around and stepped closer to me.

"I thought I approach you first, I’ve seen the way you look at me, the way you smile and laugh when answering my questions. You’re flirting…" he said and took another step closer as I was taking one back, bumping against the wall of the garage.

"I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression! But that’s just how I am… I wasn’t flirting with you." I said calmly although I felt not calm at all, I looked around if someone was there but we were alone.

"Oh come on, Lizzie, you don’t have to be shy now. I’ve felt the connection, the chemistry between us. You felt it too, I could see it in your eyes!" he said firmly and stepped even closer.

"I’m sorry, but there really isn’t any kind of connection between us… I’m just polite." I tried to reason with him but he stepped even closer and caged me in with his hands on both sides of my head.

"Don’t be like that Lizzie, just admit it…" he said and I froze, I couldn’t move as he leaned in and kissed me. I didn’t kiss him back, just tried to push him off of me as he pushed me back against the wall, kissing me again. Groping me. Grabbing my wrist with that I tried to push him away.

"No. Please stop!" I said again and again as someone approached us. Salva was distracted and I could finally push him away.

"Lizzie? What’s going on?" Jamie said as she looked at me and then Salva "Dude, fuck off! Leave her alone!" he backed off and with one last look at me and Jamie he walked away "If you ever come near her, we’ll call the police!"

I sank down and pulled my knees to my chest, Jamie crouching down in front of me.

"Lizzie?" she asked and I looked at her "Are you okay? Did he touch you? Or hurt you?"

"No, I’m good! But thank you so much for stepping in, Jamie!" I lied and she smiled.

"I never liked this dude! He always looked at you like he’s kinda obsessed with you!" Jamie shook her head and helped me up "If he ever comes near you again, we really gonna call the cops!"

"Yeah. You’re right!" I answered and we walked back into the garage.

The whole time leading towards the race I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. Did I really, unintentionally, flirt with him? Even tho I didn’t even know him? Never even spoke to him before? Never even talked to him?

"Lizzie? Did you hear me?" Mike, my race engineer, asked "It’s going to rain around lap 25 on going."

"Yep, rain, lap 25. Got it." I mumbled and jumped in my car, still thinking about Salva and how he pushed me against the wall, kissed me, touched me without my consent. I hadn’t expected my first kiss to be forced onto me violently. I felt the bile rise up in my throat but swallowed it down and tried to focus on the upcoming race. Focus Lizzie. I can do this.

The track was wetter than expected, I had to stay off the curbs, focus on the perfect racing line. But my mind always circled back to Salva Diaz. Pushing me against the wall. Grabbing me. Touching me. Telling me that I’ve flirted with him. Telling me that I sent out signals. Stealing my first kiss from me. My first kiss I only wanted to have with one person. The moment Charles face flashed before my eyes was the moment I hit a curb and lost the rear of my car. Although I tried everything to not lose the car, my race ended in the wall. My head spinning. My thoughts racing.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?" I couldn’t answer. I was furious. How could I make such a stupid mistake.

"Lizzie? Do you hear me? Are you okay?"

"I’m sorry. I lost the rear. I’m so sorry!" I hit the radio button.

"It’s okay. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine." I said and unbuckled my seatbelt and took my steering wheel out. As soon as I was out of the car I screamed a "Fuck!" out and followed one of the Marshalls behind the barriers.

As I returned back to the pits I saw my family, friends and in front Charles, all looking worried. He pulled me in a hug immediately and I felt some tears escaping my eyes.

"I’m such a fucking disappointment. I drove like a fucking rookie. What a fucking joke." I said and Charles only sighed.

"Well, let’s just be happy that I didn’t bet my fucking ass on your fourth win. Otherwise I would’ve lost it. What a fucking shame!" he said and I laughed.

"Stop it, Leclerc! I’m mad! Don’t make me laugh!" I chuckled.

"I’m sorry, Lizzie! That was my fucking mistake! I’m an idiot!" I laughed and he made me look into his eyes "There it is, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen and probably ever will see!"

"Ha-ha!" I said and rolled my eyes and together we walked the few steps to the rest of my supporting group who all hugged me and encouraged me to do better the next race.

"Can I ask you a question?" Charles asked as we sat on the hotel bed, zapping through the channels, I nodded and he switched the TV of "What happened? During the race? We race together since we’re 8 and I never saw you lose the rear in the rain because you hit a curb? You’re brilliant in the rain? So what happened today?"

"I don’t know, I was so focused on winning my fourth race that I had like a tunnel vision I guess… I don’t know." I lied and Charles was only half convinced, but he didn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell him what happened before the race. He would hunt Salva down and god knows what he would do. This would be a secret I’ll take with me to grave.

"I can’t believe he’s gone. Like… we just talked yesterday?" Charles whispered and I gently rubbed circles on the back of his hand with my right hand. My left hand rubbing circles on Pierre’s back who was laying, his head in my lap, in Charles bed, finally sleeping.

"We always know that something like this can happen, whenever we get into our cars. But when it then really happens?” I whispered back and Charles leaned his head on my shoulder "And you guys really will race? The FIA couldn’t grant you the weekend off?"

"We decided to race. In honour of Tonio. He would’ve wanted for us to race." Charles whispered and I nodded.

"I’m so sorry for Pierre… losing him this weekend after everything that Red Bull put him through the last weeks…" I said and looked down at Pierre’s tear stricken face "He needs us now, more than ever, Charles."

"And we’ll be here for him." he answered and snuggled closer into me. After some time we both fell asleep.

"I’m so proud of you, Charlie bear! Your first win!" I whispered as I hugged him close at the barriers "For Anthoine!"

"For Anthoine!" he whispered back and I smiled at him one last time before I was leaving to look for Pierre. He drove his Toro Rosso at this tough weekend on P9 and I was so proud of him. When I finally found him after the podium celebrations I pulled him into me.

"You did a good job today, Pierre! After everything you’ve been through this week and weekend, you did a really good job! I’m proud of you! He’s proud of you!" I whispered and he choked a little.

"Thanks Lizzie! For everything! Without you and Charles yesterday… I don’t know what I would’ve done!" he whispered back.

"That’s what friends are for, right? You’ll never be alone as long as Charles and I run around!" I said and Pierre laughed "You did amazing, for Anthoine!"

"For Anthoine!" he whispered back and together we looked for Charles.

"You won in Monza, Charlie bear! I’m so proud of you!" I almost screamed it and Charles just laughed, hair still damp from the shower.

"And you won in Nuremberg! Your second home race! I’m even more proud of you!" he answered and I smiled at him.

“So big party tonight?" I asked and he just shook his head "It’s Monza? Ferraris home race? Come on!"

"Yeah we’ll have a drink later on and then go to a club, but nothing big planned. Not after…" he said and I sighed.

"Yeah… I understand." I answered and he nodded.

"What are your plans?" he asked and I just shrugged.

"I’m driving home with Dad. I’m not in the mood for celebrating…" I said and Charles cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you okay, Lizzie? You seem a bit off?" he asked and I shook my head.

"I’m good, don’t worry! Just tired!" I lied and Charles looked at me for a while before he nodded.

"I know you Lizzie, somethings off… you know you can tell me?" he said.

"I know Charles, I know! But it’s nothing! Really!" I smiled at him. Today was the first time since Assen that Salva Díaz was again at a press conference. He kept on starring at me the entire time, he didn’t ask any questions. Just him being there gave me the chills anyway. But I haven’t told anyone what happened between us and I wasn’t planning on doing it now.

"Okay…" Charles sighed and I nodded "I have to go now, the team’s waiting!"

"Have fun, Charlie bear! And hug Seb for me! He needs it after his race!" I said and Charles smiled.

"I will, I promise!" he said before he ended the call right as Dad walked in.

"Ready?" he asked and I nodded.

"Yep, let’s go!" I answered and we left the hotel and got in our car, making our way back home.

"How’s Ben?" Charles asked me as I studied the sheets for my final press conference of the season "I haven’t seen him around in a while."

"Yeah, well he’s studying and I don’t even know if he’s that interested in me racing…" I answered a little confused, why would he ask for Ben? I thought about the last time I saw Ben and how he asked me a million questions about Daniel.

"Well he’s definitely not only interested in your racing!" he answered and I laughed, so I’m not the only one seeing the way he checked out Daniel all the time "I think he’s more interested in something else or should I say someone else?"

"So you realised it too? Then maybe I should encourage him to do the next step…" I said and Charles swallowed hard and I looked up "Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Sure! If you want it to happen then you should definitely encourage him to do the next step." he answered and got up from the sofa "I have to call Sylvia because of some PR stuff. I’ll be right back." and with that he left the room.

Charles POV:

She really has feelings for Ben. And I just encouraged her to encourage him to make the next step. Good job, Charles. I sat on the balcony, shuffling through all the pictures of us on my phone. How could I be so stupid and wait this long before telling her how I felt? Of course someone else would show up! It’s Lizzie. She’s not just the most beautiful and sweet girl I’ve ever met. She’s also funny, bold, caring, loving, smart. She’s perfect. All her little flaws, like the fact that she has not a lot of patience, her chaotic being, her crazy mind at times, it all makes her even more perfect. And I idiot waited too fucking long to finally tell her that I love her. Only her. Always have. Always will. And now I have to watch her fall in love with Ben, out of all people it has to be her managers son, and all I can do is pretend to be happy for her. Good. Fucking. Job. Charles. But on the other hand. Like this our friendship won’t be ruined by her not reciprocate my feelings and also if we would try it together but soon realise it’s not working out, there won’t be any weird feelings. Our friendship would be intact and I would still have her in my life. And that is the most important thing. Having her in my life. As long as I had her, all was good. Now I just had to find a way to stop this feeling eating me up alive. And all would be good.

"Lizzie! Congrats! 6 wins, 2 second places and 2 DNFs… what a season! What are your thoughts on being the first WSeries winner?" Ted Kravitz asked and I couldn’t contain my smile. I just won the WSeries season 2019. I was the champion. I had done it. And it felt amazing.

"It’s an amazing feeling! That’s for sure! I was sceptical at the beginning of the season, creating a series for only female drivers instead including us in the already well known highest series wasn’t showing inclusion, rather then segregation, but now I think we showed the world that we as girls or women can race just as good as our male counterparts and maybe in some years in the future the way for a woman or a girl is paved to make it up into Formula 1 and show that we are able to compete in the highest class of motorsports!" I said and the crowd cheered loudly my name.

This would be a day I would remember forever.

"Who’s the girl who can’t keep her hands off of Charles?" I asked Joris who followed my look and sighed.

"That’s Camille. She went with us to school. She always had a thing for Charles. He never noticed but yeah lately he seemed to get it and for some strange reason he’s not appalled by it…" Joris answered and as Camille pulled Charles face to hers and kissed him and he didn’t pushed her off my heart clenched together for a moment before it shattered into a million little pieces.

"Yeah… he’s definitely not appalled…" I mumbled and downed my Tequila Sunrise and then finished off Charles abandoned Moscow Mule. Then I got up and walked straight to the bar.

"3 Tequila shots." I shouted to the bartender who nodded and poured me my shots which I downed one by one. Then I ordered another Tequila Sunrise for now and told the bartender to serve another one in the next 15 minutes at our table.

"You should slow down a bit, Lizzie. You haven’t eaten much tonight…" Joris said and I just shook my head.

"I’m fine, I can handle it!" I said as I watched Camille and Charles dance together, bodies grinding on each other. I downed the rest of my drink as the waiter served me my next one already "What a nice evening to celebrate the end of the year, Joris!" I mumbled and downed the new drink even faster than the last one. It wasn’t even close to midnight as I got up and grabbed my bag.

"Where are you going?" Joris asked and got up as well.

"I’m leaving. I don’t feel that great. And I don’t want to be the fifth wheel. You have your date and Charles has his new girlfriend. I’m leaving and go home!" I answered and Joris looked at me with a hint of pity in his eyes "It’s fine, Joris." I said and kissed his left and then right cheek before heading for the door.

"You’re not saying goodbye to Charles?" Joris asked with big eyes but I just shrugged my shoulders and left the club, not even caring that I ran into someone.

Outside I almost tripped down the stairs, someone helped me but I just didn’t care, I got in a taxi and drove to Charles flat, where I used the spare key he gave me. Using it never felt wrong, but tonight… tonight it did so I put it on the counter and went to the guest bedroom, packed my bag and wrote a little note for Charles. Then I laid it under the spare key and left the flat while tears were streaming down my face.

Charles POV:

As I saw Lizzie’s bright smile that could take me to another planet every damn time I saw it, I knew I had to do something, I couldn’t stop staring at her beauty and I wanted to just kiss her, so when Camille approached I didn’t dodged her like usually, I let it happen, but after a short conversation where I tried my best not to stare at Lizzie, Camille kissed me and although it felt wrong I didn’t stop her. Maybe this was the way to get over the feelings I had for Lizzie. Maybe this was my way out.

After some more dances I looked over at Joris again, talking with his date, no Lizzie next to him. I walked over and he looked up.

"Where is Lizzie?" I asked and he only shook his head.

"She didn’t wanted to be the fifth wheel and left, she said she would go home." Joris answered and I called Lizzie immediately. The call went straight to her voicemail.

Another try. Voicemail. What’sApp. No answer. iMessage. No answer. Maybe she was asleep already? My heart clenched, this would be the first New Year’s Eve in over 10 years that we wouldn’t spent together. I hated it. And as the clock stroked midnight and Camille kissed me, my only thought was Lizzie. And where she was. Not even 30 minutes later I left the club, telling Camille I had some sponsor meeting early in the morning but promising her to call her the next day. Back home I opened the door, wondering why it wasn’t locked.

"Lizzie?" I whispered when I walked into the guest bedroom to found it empty "Lizzie? Are you in the bathroom?" I knocked on the door but it was unlocked and the room behind it empty. Where was she? I walked into my room. Empty. Living room. Empty. The last stop was the kitchen. But she wasn’t here either. As I turned to leave the room, my eyes were catching on the spare key and the note under it.

"Charles.

I left because I thought you might want to have some alone time with your new girlfriend tonight. Didn’t felt right to keep the key when you’re having her over.

Happy New Year.

Lizzie."

Left where? My new girlfriend? Camille? She wasn’t my girlfriend? We made out a little, which was a mistake, but that was it. I took out my phone and called her again. But this time the call was answered.

"Charles?" my mum asked and I was confused.

"Maman? Why do you have Lizzies phone?" I asked her.

"Uhm, Lizzie showed up here, 20 minutes ago. She’s drunk Charles, really drunk. She didn’t look happy either. And she was half frozen! I made her a hot tea and now she’s in bed! What happened? She was with you I thought?" she whispered it as if not to disturb Lizzie.

"We were, she said to Joris she didn’t felt to good and left, I was dancing with a… with a friend and hadn’t realised that she was gone…" I mumbled and put my shoes back on "I’m on my way."

"No! Please stay at home, Charles." Mum said and I swallowed hard "I’m sorry, but I could clearly see that Lizzie was upset, no sad would be more fitting, and she must’ve cried a lot! So whatever happened, I want to talk to her alone, maybe she’ll open up to me!"

"Ok." I whispered "Take care of her. Love you." I hung up. Taking my shoes off, walking back into my bedroom, got out of my clothes and laid down in my bed. What happened that she left so abruptly? And what happened after that? Why did she leave my place? Left the key? What’s going on? My phone vibrates and I checked it immediately, but was disappointed when it was a message from Camille and not Lizzie.

"Tonight was amazing. Thank you! I’m so happy it finally happened between us!"

I swallowed hard. Camille is a nice girl, but I had no feelings for her. But maybe I could give it a try…

"What happened last night? It seemed like Charles didn’t know where you were when he called?" Pascale asked me and I just shrugged "Oh come on, ma petite fille! You know you can tell me everything, Lizzie!"

"I didn’t like being the fifth wheel…" I mumbled, taking a sip of my tea.

"Fifth wheel?" she cocked an eyebrow and I just nodded.

"Joris had his date. Charles had his girlf… Charles had a date as well… and yeah I didn’t like being the fifth wheel." I answered and Pascale looked at me confused.

"Charles had a date?" she asked and I took another sip of my tea.

"Yup…" I sighed and Pascale stroked my arm "I know I shouldn’t just left the club and walk drunk through Monaco. But yeah…"

"It’s okay, Lizzie. But you can’t do something like that again, it’s dangerous!" she said and I nodded "Charles called like a hundred times, I think he will show up eventually in the next minutes.”

"Ok…" I answered and went straight to the bathroom. After a quick shower I pulled on the leggins and sweater Pascale gave me, checked myself in the mirror and brushed my teeth. I could hear the door and shuffling in the hallway, hushed French.

"I talked to her, she’s ok. She’s in the bathroom."

"Why did she leave? And why was she crying?"

"Oh Charles, you know why! Who was that date of yours? You want to tell me something?"

"Date? I met Camille, from school, you remember?"

"Unfortunately I do, yes."

"Yeah well we hung out a little, she’s nice."

"Whatever."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Charles. Wait in the living room. I’ll make tea."

I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I can do this. I can face him.

"Ma belle! I was so worried!" Charles jumped off of the sofa and hugged me "What happened? Why did you leave?"

"I didn’t feel well, I was drunk, bored and the being the fifth wheel sucked. So I left." I said and sat down in the armchair. The farest away from where he was sitting down, he looked at me confused and then scooted closer on the sofa.

"You weren’t the fifth wheel!" Charles expressed but I just scoffed.

"You left to get a round of shots and never returned. The next thing I saw was that girl shoving her tongue down your throat and your hands all over her! Joris next to me was flirting away with his date! And I just sat there alone. So yeah. I drank a bit and then I felt sick and left." I said it fast and Charles just sighed.

"Yeah, about that, Camille and I used to go to school together. We talked for a while and then I don’t know… maybe the alcohol did the rest…" he mumbled and I cocked an eye brow. What alcohol, he barely drank from his Moscow mule. But I decided to let it go. At the end of the day I had no right to be mad at him. So I swallowed the bile down, that began to rise up my throat and nodded.

"It’s okay. I was drunk myself and made stupid decisions… but she seemed nice and she’s really pretty! So if you like her. Go for it." I said it with a smile, trying to sound genuine even tho it hurt saying it.

"Yeah well, we’ll see." he answered as Pascale appeared with some more tea.

"I guess we will…" I said and drank my tea in silence. I had to accept the fact that Charles would have a girlfriend from now on in his life. A girlfriend that’s not me. A girlfriend that is so much prettier than I am, so much more fitting for a rising star in F1 and future World Champion. But if he would be happy, I would be happy too. For him. Because that is what was the most important for me: his happiness.

————————————————————————

Little Note:

I’m back from my little summer break and here it is, Chapter 6 🥰

Pleaaaase leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts! Like seriously! I'm open to any criticism, bad or good, it doesn't matter!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos

All pictures are from Google, Pinterest, Instagram, etc.

[onboardsorasora]

gripping thigh!

Anonstie I feel like you wanted something steamy for this prompt but all I could think about was Max hating zombies. Don’t hate meeeee, I’ll probably think of a spicy scene after I post this lol if I do I’ll post that too😅

From this prompt list

The room was dark, and the smell of pizza was rich in the small space. It was the Tuesday before the race weekend, everyone came in early because of potential weather issues expected on Wednesday, and a few of the guys on the grid decided it was the perfect time for a movie night catch up.

Charles invited them all to his room, which was immediately vetoed because everyone knew that meant that there would be paparazzi and fans lurking about and none of them wanted the hassle of trying to figure out the best way to sneak into the hotel.

Instead, they all agreed to meet in Pierre's room. It also helped that the pizza place closest to the Alpine hotel had 'the best vegan options' according to Lewis. And cosigned by Daniel, much to everyone's surprise.

They'd played a bit of FIFA before beginning their movie marathon. Pizza was devoured and Lewis' smug 'I told you so' was noted by the stewards.

Max settled on the couch between Daniel and Lando. He was enjoying himself immensely, they rarely ever had time to do something like this, be anything more than F1 drivers. When they were all home they tended to separate and do their own thing; break off into their smaller friend groups.

He and Daniel spent a lot of time together, they were always going out to dinner or watching sports at Daniel's apartment. They were always close friends but Daniel being back at Red Bull threw them further into close quarters even when they were at work.

Max was aware that there were many videos and tweets about how 'down bad' he was for Daniel. Lando never missed an opportunity to present the newest edits and explain the latest fan theories. Lando's most recent hyperfixation were the ones captioned 'the dick can't be that good'.

Well it wasn't like Max knew now was it? He wished he could confirm or deny just how good Daniel's dick really was. Lando liked to tease him about that too.

But ever since his tyre test, Daniel had been extraordinarily busy. Max wished him good luck the Monday night and then he hadn't seen him again until the following race weekend. Daniel had been as elusive as a cool breeze on a hot day. Too busy flying from place to place to get ready for his first race weekend back in F1.

Now, when he wasn't at the track, Daniel was back in Faenza with his team. Max wasn't sulking, no matter what Lando or Christian said.

Tonight, Daniel was right where he belonged– beside Max. And Max was happy. He found his attention deviating a lot from the movie over to Daniel's stunning profile. He wanted to be able to trace the bridge of his nose with his fingers and not just his eyes. Max wanted to catalogue each of Daniel's freckles with his lips, kissing each new one he found hidden in his hairline.

He'd been so distracted looking for differences in Daniel's appearance that he completely missed when the first movie– a gratuitous action flick– ended and the second movie began. The squelching and creaking noises coming from the screen let Max know that he wasn't going to like whatever movie Charles had picked. Because only Charles would pick this kind of movie.

He felt Lando's eyes on him and Max shook his head. He was ok. It would be fine. So what if it was some form of scary movie, as long as there weren't any zombies.

The music intensified and a jump scare introduced the 'outbreak' that caused the major villain in the film. And of course…it was a sort of parasitic zombie.

Max swallowed uncomfortably but said nothing. He felt Daniel's shoulder press into his a little and he smiled over at the beautiful man looking at him with concern. Of course, his friends knew he wasn't the biggest fan of zombies. Which is why he was maybe a smidge annoyed that Charles would choose one. He'd made a grand announcement that everyone would love his choice. He was wrong of course, as always.

The movie continued and Max got more and more uncomfortable. The music raised his anxiety levels and the piercing subsonic sound they used to denote that a zombie was near really grated on his nerves.

"Do you want to go outside?" Daniel whispered in his ear and Max suppressed a shudder. He turned his head, finding Daniel leaned in close. If he tilted his head a little they could kiss, maybe.

"No. I am fine." Max lied. He knew it wasn't a good one because he could clearly see the doubt in Daniel's eyes, even in the dark.

"Come, let's go out on the balcony." Daniel gripped Max's thigh and Max's attention zeroed in on the new press of their bodies. It's not like Daniel had never touched his thigh before, they'd played enough gay chicken over the years and Daniel had touched Max almost everywhere by now. Non sexually.

And of course, this touch wasn't sexual. But this also wasn't gay chicken.

Daniel squeezed his thigh again before standing up, Max followed him because he was gleefully at Daniel's mercy.

They escaped through the sliding doors to the balcony, the balmy night air and city sounds greeting them. Daniel sat on the wicker two seater and patted the dark blue cushion beside him. Max sat obediently.

"There, that's better." Daniel grinned, folding his arms behind his head. Max stared at the tattoos on his bicep that exposed themselves as if he got a flash of ankle and he needed to keep looking before the maiden realized his perversion.

"You wanna stay out here for the whole movie?" Max asked dubiously, hoping he hadn't let the silence happen for too long.

"What, tired of my presence already? Absence didn't make the heart grow fonder, Maxy?" Daniel teased.

"Never." Max tried for a joke but he knew his voice sounded too earnest. Daniel's smile softened.

"I missed you too Maxy Max." He whispered as if a confession only to be heard by the two of them.

“I’m, of course, happy you’re back on the grid but I miss you too much, I think.” Max felt lightheaded, and bit his tongue to just…stop talking.

Daniel’s smile dimmed a little, “I mean at least I was able to work on the last few updates in the sim for you. Adrian said we got good data—“

“Of course I don’t only miss you in the sim Daniel.” Max rolled his eyes, Daniel could be slow sometimes. He guessed he was doing this. “I missed you here. With me.”

He watched as Daniel’s eyes widened then his smile followed suit.

“Yeah nah. It hasn’t been that lonely.”

Max gripped his thighs, remembering the time that Victoria told him that men were shit at taking hints. He needed to text her an apology, he should have believed her.

“Daniel, just kiss me. Please.” Max ordered and Daniel’s face slackened in shock before he nodded.

“Yeah. Ok.” He cupped Max’s cheeks and pulled him in, Max’s eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. He floated out of his body while Daniel kissed him, his mind far away from the zombies infecting people on Pierre’s tv.

[sugar-petals]

Hey, Caro, can you please introduce us to that sweet beau, Lewis Hamilton?? He's a speed driver, right??

lemme talk about this champ and beautiful man — he is a must-know. 

lewis hamilton is a speed driver: in fact, the best racer in the world. with the fastest formula 1 lap in all history, and: if he wins this season (which has just started last week, your timing to get into this is perfect), lewis can boast a whopping 8 world championships. in short: you’re asking about the right guy. let’s go.

so i repeat, he won seven years (yeah, he’s a capricorn). which equals the current record holder, mister michael schumacher himself, i’m sure you heard of him. so, about time all the world knows more about this stunner as well, sir lewis carl davidson hamilton

lewis is so good and works his butt off so hard, he has more titles — he was knighted last year — and gigantic trophies than he can carry. since we’re talking f1 where drivers have to be light and agile inside the car, lewis is of course gloriously tiny, 5′7. so, the exhausted british short king on your news and twitter feed who walks around like this on a podium after doing 300 kilometers+ is dead sure to be him. can’t miss the guy.

wanna know more? lewis is an allrounder in every field and does everything what people say he can’t. unless he’s not somewhere modelling clothes being gorgeous (he collabs with tommy hilfiger for sustainable unisex collections)...

... taking care of his nieces or godson steve which regulary melts the f1 community...

... is using his favorite little scooter...

... showing up at the met gala as one of the few guys who really get the gist looking beautiful as always...

... playing with his cute crinkly bulldog roscoe who’s always by his side and F1′s most famously beloved driver pet...

...doing the absolute most with his activism and veganism — he even created his own plant-based restaurant chain — because as i said he’s a king, lewis never shies from taking a stand even if a lot of people hate him for it because it’s a white-dominated sport...

...or posts inspirational things that make you believe in yourself...

...lewis drives, can you guess:

for mercedes!

the #1 team which usually only red bull can currently challenge. which means he has a sexy, shiny, impossibly fantastic car — with his lucky number 44, that’s how you can spot it — that is almost always leading the field. if you see this on your sports tv channel on a saturday (qualifying) or sunday (race day), i assure you it’s lewis. 44, glossy black car, pole position, check. a great talent in a perfect car equals one hell of a winning streak.

— but if you ask me, the man is even sexier, cooler, and cuter and the real highlight. just so we’re clear on this. lewis is always a breath of fresh air. believe it or not: this guy is 35 (!!) years old. needless to say, prettiest fashion icon on the grid. and yes, he has amazing hair and tattoos.

killing it. 👍 lewis brings a presence to the grid.

who’s he making proud, then? now some notes on his circle, the people you spot him with. 

family hamilton first, who do we have: 

dad anthony, lewis’ former manager. at one point he worked 4 jobs so lewis could start his career in karting. carmen, his mom. linda, his stepmom, pictured below. his brother, nicolas, also a race driver. nicolas has a disability (cerebral palsy), he competes in the uk touring championship with a modified car since 2015. like nicolas, lewis is the only (!) black driver in his tournament and they are frequently sending out very important messages about it.

now for mercedes: accompanied he is by the calm and collected finnish valtteri bottas as his taciturn team colleague and runner-up champion. valtteri is the type to sit in a north pole sauna, lewis is ever-active, so they balance each other well. no trouble there, they’re a cool duo.

and i’m not kidding, valtteri is truly finnish. this is his twitter, summarized:

add the smart, austrian mercedes boss toto wolff who has the best height difference to him. these two get along very jokingly. where lewis goes, toto is not far. very dynamic duo, this is the success factory of formula 1.

while his most competitive love-hate relationship sparking the famous ‘silver war’ was retired german champion nico rosberg since day one. who came from priviledged backgrounds while lewis did not, they are the biggest team rivals of recent f1 times and people still talk about it. the ups and downs were huge but they sure had tremendous times as friends.

while the most smooth and consistent relationship — besides with roscoe — has got to be his bond with his whirlwind assistent/physio angela cullen! 

lewis credits her for so much and treats her reveringly. you haven’t seen anything like this, they are glued to each other.

lewis’ off-grid relationships come and go because he’s so busy, colleagues come and go all the time, but angela stays a constant. so if you’re asking about who the most important woman on the circuit is to lewis, that is his personal angel(a) indeed. look how wholesome.

i mean, a picture says it all.

last but not least. lewis’ best ever friend is german driver sebastian vettel (formerly ferrari, now aston martin, struggling a lot currently :/), former 4-time world champion. these two are THE match made in heaven and support goals. seb has the humor, lewis has the cheekiness, seb is a father, lewis has his uncle duties, it just fits. everybody should have a seb to their lewis.

(^this is vet having hurried to be the first one to congratulate lewis on his latest championship win)

so now you know more about sir lewis carl davidson hamilton! you will hear a lot from him this season, he’ll continue to champion many a cause, and be in the fast lane as always.

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 7/288

2007 American GP.

(As a disclaimer those are just my thoughts throughout the race. Don’t expect anything. But I make GIFs !)

Lewis is pole again ! It’s very hot. It’s also Sebastian Vettel’s debut. He’s replacing Kubica of course.

They’re talking about Lewis being faster atm because he skims the walls which is “a dangerous driving style”. He says he doesn’t think it’s a risk and it’s not exactly difficult to do here. The journalist says : “Just cool as that? Cause no one else is going so far up close to the walls.” Lewis answers “Well I’m not everyone else, so…” Smug lol !

Oh God they’re doing a whole segment on “How did Kubica survive his crash last race?” In the end he had a concussion (yeah no shit) and bruising. I’ll skip the details because why on earth would you spend 10mn of a build up explaining how it should have been way worse than what it was. Disgusting. Let’s focus on Sebastian’s haircut instead. He’s so skinny! He already looks like a dad somehow!

Also hello to this long-haired McLaren mechanic? 👀

They’re showing all the crashes that happend in the first corner of the track in 2006. Again it’s very scary. I get the urge to say “safe race” but of course said race happened 14 years ago lol.

Ron Dennis is now on the mic denying there’s tension between his drivers and within the team even though Alonso apparently said back in Spain that he felt uncomfortable with the team. Drama.

Another Lewis fancam, showing he’s very popular in the U.S. This is truly the Hamilton show and not F1. It’s a bit obnoxious even for a fan. Of course this has really little to do with Lewis. Oh hey Pharrell !

Ew. They’re interviewing “Grid Girls” who are saying their job is “to stand there and look fabulous and give the handsome drivers something beautiful to look at.” Damn F1 culture sucks.

They’re now doing THE MOST disrespectful interview of Pharrell Williams ever. I wish I could post a clip of it but I can’t so here’s a transcript of this extremely awkward encounter :

– Here’s a man called uh Pharrell Williams (the disrespect 😭), we’re live on British television. Pharrell, quick chat : now, you’re a rap singer (wtf?), hip hop (are you just saying words?), you’re a producer for Tim– uh, Justin Timberlake… and Nelly… and you do clothes, you do shoes, you do… Everything. Yeah you’re a busy guy.

– Thanks.

– ……………Okay.

The journalist then goes on to say something like he’s a man of few words before talking to him about Lewis but bruh you didn’t ask him a question just gave a very shitty review of his career and handed him the mic wtf was he supposed to say?! The whole conversation is very uncomfortable, you can tell these men have absolutely no common ground. Anyway you’re not here for Pharrell Williams and thankfully Anthony saves him from the journalist.

Here’s the grid :

And they’re racing !

Alonso tucks behind Lewis to defend against the Ferraris and attacks him right away but Lewis pulls away in the first corner. Alonso is right behind him and not giving up. Ralph Schumacher is out, he crashed into Coulthard? Yes, Coulthard is in the pit lane. We can also see Fisichella joining the track from the gravel. Chaos. Coulthard doesn’t look like he’s about to race. Barrichello is also in the pits with suspension damage and a puncture. Chaos2. 3 cars are already out of the race.

Actually looking at the replay of the start a total of 5 cars managed to go out in the first corner.

5 laps in, Lewis leads by 1.7. Alonso is truly not giving up.

Lap 13, Sato is out in the gravel trap.

Also some marshall threw a blue flag on the track?

Lap 20 : Lewis pits at the same time than Massa and Heidfeld. Alonso leads for 1 lap then pits. Whatever are the standings now ? Nobody knows. Ah here it goes : Kovalainen, Raikkonen, Lewis, Alonso. But Raikkonen pits.

Lewis is slowing down! Is there an issue? Alonso also seems slow. Kovalainen pits. It might just be traffic? Alonso is gaining on him. 1.2 seconds behind now. Apparently Lewis is back on pace but they’re very close. Traffic coming up as the two McLarens are very much racing each other in the midst of lapping cars. Crazy. Alonso is on Lewis’ tail. They’re now side by side in the straight, halfway through the race! Lewis defends well but how long can he resist?

For some reason Alonso now swerves wildly on the next straight. The journalist thinks it’s a signal to the pitwall? Apparently it was. It means Alonso is getting frustrated. But boy it’s the name of the game? What is Lewis supposed to do, let you through? Ron Dennis is reportedly not happy about this. I mean yeah he was saying before the race that everything was fine in the team and clearly not.

Lap 49 : Alonso pits first? He’s annoyed. He’s now 23.3 seconds behind. Of course Lewis is pitting right away. It’s very close but he gets out in front of Alonso!

Anyway. McLaren supposedly should now tell their drivers to not race each other given that the Ferraris behind are never gonna catch up and they want the 1-2. But will Alonso listen? Heidfeld slows down significantly but his teams tells him to keep going? He can’t, and he stops on the grass.

10 laps left. Vettel gets in the points for his first F1 race! The Ferraris are still racing each other, while the McLaren fight seems to have been called off.

5 laps left. Rosberg is slowing down and stopping. His car catches on fire. And Liuzzi is also retiring, 2 laps from the end of the race.

SECOND WIN FOR LEWIS!

He’s now leading the WDC again!

Lewis and Alonso come out for the podium together playing nice but you can tell Alonso is pissed af lol

Proud Pharrell and Anthony!

Lewis : “What a dream !” He sounds winded though. He praises everybody who worked on the car and is very grateful for everybody’s work.

He’s emotional 💜

And then Anthony. The journalist wishes him Happy Father’s day! Anthony says it’s a good thing Alonso raced Lewis because Lewis is a rookie and he needs to learn. That’s a very humble and smart outlook on things.

[crystalracing]

Unfortunately not every driver who deserves a crack at F1 makes it to the pinnacle of motorsport, particularly in recent years when the need to bring financial backing to secure a seat has dramatically increased.

That leaves some potential stars on the sidelines and those who follow the junior formulae pondering what might have been.

Britain's Adam Carroll is one such driver. He shone in GP2 and A1GP, but never had the chance to show what he could do on the big stage.

"The guy was just ridiculously talented. You knew whatever car you put him he was going to be quick right from the word go," said NBC's F1 reporter Will Buxton.

Born on October 26, 1982 in Portadown, Northern Ireland, Carroll quickly made an impact in single-seaters after graduating from karting in 1999. As a rookie driving a year-old car in the lower class of the 2002 British F3 championship, Carroll was still a front runner, even finishing on the outright podium.

GP2 - arrive in style, and sideways...

In 2005 he joined Super Nova for the inaugural GP2 campaign and immediately made his mark on the big stage.

"For Adam to win on the Sunday morning…the story of that first weekend at Imola was all about the car packing up with the electronics in the practice session, the brakes exploding in the first race and they changed from Carbone Lorraine to Brembo overnight," recalls Buxton who was working as GP2 press officer at the time.

"All the cars were fitted with Brembo brakes for the Sunday morning and all the drivers had to get used to these brand new brakes that actually worked. Ernesto Viso threw it off on the lap from the pits to the grid because the brakes were so much better.

"Adam raced a beautiful race for Super Nova and I will never ever forget the move that ultimately got him the win. It was coming through the old chicane onto the start finish straight and he was coming up behind Alex Premat in the ART and he was putting Premat under pressure for so many laps.

"They got to the chicane and Premat out-braked himself and straight-lined the chicane and went over the grass and Adam just flipped the thing left, flicked it right, there was no way he braked enough, he was carrying so much speed through there. As he came out of the second part of the chicane the back end of the car was almost on the straight before the front end - he was sideways, with the rear wing almost brushing against the outside wall.

"But he held it on opposite lock, just floored it and emerged ahead of Premat who had straight-lined the chicane. It was the most ridiculous move and he went on to win the race.

"That was the moment for me GP2 arrived because it was just the most exciting thing I had ever seen and it was the moment for me that Adam arrived and I really knew what I could expect out of this guy which was total commitment, really exciting to watch and an unbelievable star."

And the move impressed Super Nova boss David Sears as well: "I have that picture up on my wall still! That was a really good year. I like Adam and he did deserve to have a go at Formula 1."

Monaco madness

Carroll will go down in history as the first GP2 victor in Monaco, although his win came courtesy of an unusual driving move.

"What made his win astonishing is he hit the wall very early on in the race and he set the steering off," recalls Buxton.

"So after a lap and a half he realised 'I can't do the rest of the race like this' and he deliberately knocked the car on the other side and hit the barrier on the other side and that straightened the steering up.

"And that summed Adam up. Brilliant - crazy - but brilliant."

F1 test seat

After impressing in his maiden GP2 campaign, Carroll was signed as a test driver by Honda, but never had the opportunity of a race seat.

"He got himself into an F1 car with Honda, but when you look at the background of the test, he never got a fair crack at it," said Mark Gallagher who ran Carroll in A1GP.

"It is a pity that Formula 1 didn't get to witness Adam's talents."

Title success in A1GP

The closest the world came to seeing Carroll race an F1 car was in A1GP, where the car for the 2008-2009 season was based on the Ferrari F2004.

"Winning the A1GP title the way he did in a car that was basically an F1 car, Adam was just inspired in that championship," says Buxton.

"People often pour scorn on A1, but in reality it was a good championship, with good drivers on real proper tough racing tracks. You don't win a championship unless you are good."

Gallagher, his boss at Team Ireland, was equally impressed.

"It is not often a race driver delivers exactly what you expect of him and that is exactly what Adam did for us in A1GP," he said.

"We did A1GP for four years, the first years we had Richard Lyons, Ralph Firman and Michael Devaney, I wanted Adam, but he was racing in GP2 at the time and his management didn't want the distraction. Finally he became available and he was immediately a lot stronger to work with in a number of different ways.

"We set around building the team around Adam and in the second year we did something radical and appointed a new race engineer and I involved Adam in the interviews."

No room at the top table

Carroll's A1GP title success came just as the world was gripped by economic recession. Honda, BMW and Toyota all pulled out of F1 in quick succession and sponsorship money was becoming harder to find for the teams that remained.

The Ulsterman held talks over an F1 seat for 2010 with new squad Virgin Racing, but couldn't raise the 4m Euros to secure the seat, telling Sky Sports later that season "I tried my nuts off". Carroll was also reported to have had talks with fellow new entry HRT and Lola whose entry was rejected. He was close - but not close enough.

F1's loss?

So could Carroll had starred in F1?

"I look back now and think if he had been given a shot in F1 he would have been phenomenal because he was just magic," says Buxton.

"You saw that when he had the right people behind him there wasn't anything he couldn't achieve anything."

Gallagher added: "It is Formula 1's loss that a driver like Adam didn't get the opportunity to come there. I would almost say he was kind of old school in that he had a prodigious speed, but he also had this aggression that almost Mansell-esque.

"I would never say he was like Nigel out of the car, but it was that kind of aggression and that ability to channel his aggression into speed. He wouldn't overdrive the car, he would just go out and deliver absolutely the performance that you needed and that would have been great to see in Formula 1. He would have been an asset. I think a top LMP1 team would be doing a sensible thing to have him their car."

F1's loss is sportscars gain and Carroll continued to show his pace in the European Le Mans Series in 2015 with Gulf Racing and is set to contest the Le Mans 24 Hours this year with the GT squad.

But we could yet see the 33-year-old in single-seaters once more with the Northern Irishman repeatedly linked with Formula E. Carroll flew to the Buenos Aires ePrix to provide cover for Nick Heidfeld at Mahindra Racing, but ended up also having seat fittings with the Abt Audi Sport and DS Virgin teams after Daniel Abt and Jean-Eric Vergne fell ill.

All three were declared fit to race, but it again showed how highly Carroll is regarded among the teams. Not entirely lost yet then?

[jesusvasser]

Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura

Breathtaking. Beautiful. Shocking. Revolutionary. All of these words, in one language or another, were likely uttered by automotive pundits visiting Lamborghini’s display during the 1966 Geneva auto show, where the marque revealed its finished Miura to the world. The car’s sleek, muscular lines and mid-mounted engine placement were unlike anything seen before on a road car and borrowed heavily from the motorsports world. Today, we know the Miura as the world’s first supercar, setting the scene for the contemporary hypercars with performance far exceeding what was once thought possible.

Back in 1965, though, young Americans were protesting the Vietnam War, as many working-class Italians protested what they deemed unfair labor practices in Italy’s booming industrial plants. Strikes were commonplace, but despite the odds, self-made tractor manufacturer Ferruccio Lamborghini had founded a new luxury automaker.

Automobili Lamborghini was barely more than a year old but already thriving. Orders came quickly for its 350 GT, a fast, luxurious sports coupe meant to offer buyers of Ferraris and Maseratis a higher-quality, more user-friendly car. Powered by a front-mounted 3.5-liter quad-cam V-12 engine developed by Giotto Bizzarrini—the mastermind behind Ferrari’s all-conquering 250 GTO sports racer—the 350 GT and the succeeding 4.0-liter 400 GT were successful nearly straight away as fast, attractive grand touring cars, but they did fairly little to move the bar.

When the world saw the Miura for the first time, it was taken aback. More than 50 years later, the Miura still demands attention.

For its second act, Lamborghini would build a car to shatter the status quo. In the top tiers of motorsports, front-engine cars had already had their day. By now, Formula 1 race cars had their engines mounted just behind their drivers, and a quick look at the starting grid of the 1965 24 Hours of Le Mans reveals more of the same: mid-engine Ford GT40s, Ferrari 330 P2s and 250/275 LMs, and Porsche 904s. Despite the mid-engine configuration’s obvious dominance, industry chiefs—Enzo Ferrari most notable among them—were dubious that their well-heeled customers had the skills needed to keep such a car safely on the road.

Lamborghini and his young development team had no such reservation. In fact, aeronautical engineering graduate Gian Paolo Dallara, then just 26 but already having served stints at both Ferrari and Maserati, insisted to his boss that a mid-engine road car was the way forward. Amplified by young engineer Paolo Stanzani, 27, and New Zealand-born race mechanic turned development driver Bob Wallace, also just 27, youthful confidence and vigor were in strong supply at Lamborghini’s Sant’Agata Bolognese headquarters, just down the street from Ferrari’s Modena workshop.

Ferruccio Lamborghini’s sights were not set on racing, but he anticipated the credibility such a road car would bring to his startup automaker and happily signed off on the Miura’s development.

The 350-hp, oversquare, 60-degree 4.0-liter Bizzarrini V-12 from the 400 GT would serve duty in the Miura, but Dallara determined it should be mounted transversely, not longitudinally as it was in the grand tourer. Not only did a transverse-mounted engine consolidate weight closer to the car’s midpoint, but it would also allow room for a token 5-cubic-foot trunk behind it. The team fabricated a welded steel chassis, drilled for lightness where feasible, with a central tunnel acting as a supporting backbone to which the front and rear bulkheads and floor pans attached. Italian design firm Bertone, which favorably had no formal ties with Ferrari or Maserati, took over the Miura’s design process with 25-year-old Marcello Gandini leading the charge, another youthful arrow in the car’s quiver of developers.

Throughout late 1965 and early 1966, the Miura slowly transformed from a figment of imagination to a running, driving car unlike any the world had seen. Low-slung and swoopy, the Miura’s large windshield swept back dramatically, and its roofline trailed down over the mid-mounted V-12 toward the car’s wide hips. Although prototypes had a plexiglass screen covering the engine, ventilation and visibility issues led Gandini to design a stylish set of louvers to keep rainwater out while preserving rearward visibility. Air intakes bulged from the rocker panels to keep the rear brakes cool and from behind the doors to feed fresh air to the engine’s four Weber carburetors. The Miura’s front hood and rear engine cover were made from aluminum (the doors, roof, and A-pillars were steel), and they opened clamshell-style for greater access to what lay within. The Fiat 850 Spider–derived headlights were perhaps the only awkward exterior feature, with their metal “eyelashes” and incohesive appearance when lifted into operational mode.

The cabin, too, was a sight to behold, with twin pods directly in front of the driver housing a large Jaeger speedometer on the left and tachometer on the right, while secondary gauges and switchgear were stashed in the hooded center stack that jutted from the middle of the dashboard. A five-speed shifter sprouted from naked chrome gates on the center console, which also lent space for the ignition switch and a comically large passenger grab handle. Switches that didn’t find homes here were reassigned to a ceiling-mounted pod behind the rearview mirror. A large, three-spoke, leather-covered steering wheel blocked much of the two instruments behind and sat squarely between most drivers’ knees, but it certainly looked the part.

Following the Miura’s debut, Wallace drove it to the F1 Monaco Grand Prix to run demonstration laps around the circuit. Ferruccio Lamborghini himself stirred up a crowd by revving the car’s V-12 loudly in front of the affluent locale’s famous Place du Casino. At the Paris auto show later in 1966, Wallace gave prospective buyers thrill rides around the show’s host city. Finally, in 1967, production began, and Lamborghini sold an impressive 108 examples by the end of that year.

But Miura development didn’t stop, with Dallara, Stanzani, and Wallace all improving the car even as orders continued to roll in. An S version arrived in late 1968 with better-quality cabin trimmings, a revised rear suspension, uprated Pirellis, and 20 more horsepower for 370 total. In 1971, the SV made its debut. Planned to be a special-order, higher-performing Miura, demand was strong enough that it instead entered regular production. Changes included flared rear fenders to fit wider 15-inch low-profile 60-series tires. Revised taillights and a refreshed nose with an integrated bumper, a mesh grille, and side markers were all new. The Miura lost its peculiar headlight eyelashes, and a glove box was added to the passenger-side dashboard. Power increased to 385 hp at 7,850 rpm courtesy of new cam timing, larger intake valves, and rejetted carburetors. Chassis reinforcements were perhaps the most significant improvements, and combined with a wider rear track made handling at the limit less treacherous. By now, the sprint to 60 mph took just 5.8 seconds, and top speed was said to be 180 mph. Yet the Miura’s end was nigh; in 1971, Lamborghini also showed the Gandini-designed, wedge-shaped Countach concept for the first time.

By 1973 the Miura’s production run came to an end, and the Countach picked up the torch for Lamborghini. But thanks to the Miura, the supercar era was in full swing with new mid-engine competitors arriving from Ferrari and Maserati, and the automotive landscape was never again the same. Likewise, neither was anyone who’s so much as drooled over a Miura in the sheetmetal.

This 1971 Lamborghini Miura SV No. 4912

Our subject car is a 1971 Miura SV, chassis No. 4912, generously lent to us for photography by RM Sotheby’s auction house and celebrity owner and car guy Adam Carolla. It was delivered new to its first owner in Texas before spending 20-odd years in Japan, beginning in the 1990s. After a period of inactivity, it returned to the U.S., where it was cosmetically restored. Following our photo shoot, RM Sotheby’s auctioned this Miura SV during its inaugural Petersen Automotive Museum Auction on December 8, 2018. Here’s how it did at auction.

The post Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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[jonathanbelloblog]

Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura

Breathtaking. Beautiful. Shocking. Revolutionary. All of these words, in one language or another, were likely uttered by automotive pundits visiting Lamborghini’s display during the 1966 Geneva auto show, where the marque revealed its finished Miura to the world. The car’s sleek, muscular lines and mid-mounted engine placement were unlike anything seen before on a road car and borrowed heavily from the motorsports world. Today, we know the Miura as the world’s first supercar, setting the scene for the contemporary hypercars with performance far exceeding what was once thought possible.

Back in 1965, though, young Americans were protesting the Vietnam War, as many working-class Italians protested what they deemed unfair labor practices in Italy’s booming industrial plants. Strikes were commonplace, but despite the odds, self-made tractor manufacturer Ferruccio Lamborghini had founded a new luxury automaker.

Automobili Lamborghini was barely more than a year old but already thriving. Orders came quickly for its 350 GT, a fast, luxurious sports coupe meant to offer buyers of Ferraris and Maseratis a higher-quality, more user-friendly car. Powered by a front-mounted 3.5-liter quad-cam V-12 engine developed by Giotto Bizzarrini—the mastermind behind Ferrari’s all-conquering 250 GTO sports racer—the 350 GT and the succeeding 4.0-liter 400 GT were successful nearly straight away as fast, attractive grand touring cars, but they did fairly little to move the bar.

When the world saw the Miura for the first time, it was taken aback. More than 50 years later, the Miura still demands attention.

For its second act, Lamborghini would build a car to shatter the status quo. In the top tiers of motorsports, front-engine cars had already had their day. By now, Formula 1 race cars had their engines mounted just behind their drivers, and a quick look at the starting grid of the 1965 24 Hours of Le Mans reveals more of the same: mid-engine Ford GT40s, Ferrari 330 P2s and 250/275 LMs, and Porsche 904s. Despite the mid-engine configuration’s obvious dominance, industry chiefs—Enzo Ferrari most notable among them—were dubious that their well-heeled customers had the skills needed to keep such a car safely on the road.

Lamborghini and his young development team had no such reservation. In fact, aeronautical engineering graduate Gian Paolo Dallara, then just 26 but already having served stints at both Ferrari and Maserati, insisted to his boss that a mid-engine road car was the way forward. Amplified by young engineer Paolo Stanzani, 27, and New Zealand-born race mechanic turned development driver Bob Wallace, also just 27, youthful confidence and vigor were in strong supply at Lamborghini’s Sant’Agata Bolognese headquarters, just down the street from Ferrari’s Modena workshop.

Ferruccio Lamborghini’s sights were not set on racing, but he anticipated the credibility such a road car would bring to his startup automaker and happily signed off on the Miura’s development.

The 350-hp, oversquare, 60-degree 4.0-liter Bizzarrini V-12 from the 400 GT would serve duty in the Miura, but Dallara determined it should be mounted transversely, not longitudinally as it was in the grand tourer. Not only did a transverse-mounted engine consolidate weight closer to the car’s midpoint, but it would also allow room for a token 5-cubic-foot trunk behind it. The team fabricated a welded steel chassis, drilled for lightness where feasible, with a central tunnel acting as a supporting backbone to which the front and rear bulkheads and floor pans attached. Italian design firm Bertone, which favorably had no formal ties with Ferrari or Maserati, took over the Miura’s design process with 25-year-old Marcello Gandini leading the charge, another youthful arrow in the car’s quiver of developers.

Throughout late 1965 and early 1966, the Miura slowly transformed from a figment of imagination to a running, driving car unlike any the world had seen. Low-slung and swoopy, the Miura’s large windshield swept back dramatically, and its roofline trailed down over the mid-mounted V-12 toward the car’s wide hips. Although prototypes had a plexiglass screen covering the engine, ventilation and visibility issues led Gandini to design a stylish set of louvers to keep rainwater out while preserving rearward visibility. Air intakes bulged from the rocker panels to keep the rear brakes cool and from behind the doors to feed fresh air to the engine’s four Weber carburetors. The Miura’s front hood and rear engine cover were made from aluminum (the doors, roof, and A-pillars were steel), and they opened clamshell-style for greater access to what lay within. The Fiat 850 Spider–derived headlights were perhaps the only awkward exterior feature, with their metal “eyelashes” and incohesive appearance when lifted into operational mode.

The cabin, too, was a sight to behold, with twin pods directly in front of the driver housing a large Jaeger speedometer on the left and tachometer on the right, while secondary gauges and switchgear were stashed in the hooded center stack that jutted from the middle of the dashboard. A five-speed shifter sprouted from naked chrome gates on the center console, which also lent space for the ignition switch and a comically large passenger grab handle. Switches that didn’t find homes here were reassigned to a ceiling-mounted pod behind the rearview mirror. A large, three-spoke, leather-covered steering wheel blocked much of the two instruments behind and sat squarely between most drivers’ knees, but it certainly looked the part.

Following the Miura’s debut, Wallace drove it to the F1 Monaco Grand Prix to run demonstration laps around the circuit. Ferruccio Lamborghini himself stirred up a crowd by revving the car’s V-12 loudly in front of the affluent locale’s famous Place du Casino. At the Paris auto show later in 1966, Wallace gave prospective buyers thrill rides around the show’s host city. Finally, in 1967, production began, and Lamborghini sold an impressive 108 examples by the end of that year.

But Miura development didn’t stop, with Dallara, Stanzani, and Wallace all improving the car even as orders continued to roll in. An S version arrived in late 1968 with better-quality cabin trimmings, a revised rear suspension, uprated Pirellis, and 20 more horsepower for 370 total. In 1971, the SV made its debut. Planned to be a special-order, higher-performing Miura, demand was strong enough that it instead entered regular production. Changes included flared rear fenders to fit wider 15-inch low-profile 60-series tires. Revised taillights and a refreshed nose with an integrated bumper, a mesh grille, and side markers were all new. The Miura lost its peculiar headlight eyelashes, and a glove box was added to the passenger-side dashboard. Power increased to 385 hp at 7,850 rpm courtesy of new cam timing, larger intake valves, and rejetted carburetors. Chassis reinforcements were perhaps the most significant improvements, and combined with a wider rear track made handling at the limit less treacherous. By now, the sprint to 60 mph took just 5.8 seconds, and top speed was said to be 180 mph. Yet the Miura’s end was nigh; in 1971, Lamborghini also showed the Gandini-designed, wedge-shaped Countach concept for the first time.

By 1973 the Miura’s production run came to an end, and the Countach picked up the torch for Lamborghini. But thanks to the Miura, the supercar era was in full swing with new mid-engine competitors arriving from Ferrari and Maserati, and the automotive landscape was never again the same. Likewise, neither was anyone who’s so much as drooled over a Miura in the sheetmetal.

This 1971 Lamborghini Miura SV No. 4912

Our subject car is a 1971 Miura SV, chassis No. 4912, generously lent to us for photography by RM Sotheby’s auction house and celebrity owner and car guy Adam Carolla. It was delivered new to its first owner in Texas before spending 20-odd years in Japan, beginning in the 1990s. After a period of inactivity, it returned to the U.S., where it was cosmetically restored. Following our photo shoot, RM Sotheby’s auctioned this Miura SV during its inaugural Petersen Automotive Museum Auction on December 8, 2018. Here’s how it did at auction.

The post Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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[eddiejpoplar]

Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura

Breathtaking. Beautiful. Shocking. Revolutionary. All of these words, in one language or another, were likely uttered by automotive pundits visiting Lamborghini’s display during the 1966 Geneva auto show, where the marque revealed its finished Miura to the world. The car’s sleek, muscular lines and mid-mounted engine placement were unlike anything seen before on a road car and borrowed heavily from the motorsports world. Today, we know the Miura as the world’s first supercar, setting the scene for the contemporary hypercars with performance far exceeding what was once thought possible.

Back in 1965, though, young Americans were protesting the Vietnam War, as many working-class Italians protested what they deemed unfair labor practices in Italy’s booming industrial plants. Strikes were commonplace, but despite the odds, self-made tractor manufacturer Ferruccio Lamborghini had founded a new luxury automaker.

Automobili Lamborghini was barely more than a year old but already thriving. Orders came quickly for its 350 GT, a fast, luxurious sports coupe meant to offer buyers of Ferraris and Maseratis a higher-quality, more user-friendly car. Powered by a front-mounted 3.5-liter quad-cam V-12 engine developed by Giotto Bizzarrini—the mastermind behind Ferrari’s all-conquering 250 GTO sports racer—the 350 GT and the succeeding 4.0-liter 400 GT were successful nearly straight away as fast, attractive grand touring cars, but they did fairly little to move the bar.

When the world saw the Miura for the first time, it was taken aback. More than 50 years later, the Miura still demands attention.

For its second act, Lamborghini would build a car to shatter the status quo. In the top tiers of motorsports, front-engine cars had already had their day. By now, Formula 1 race cars had their engines mounted just behind their drivers, and a quick look at the starting grid of the 1965 24 Hours of Le Mans reveals more of the same: mid-engine Ford GT40s, Ferrari 330 P2s and 250/275 LMs, and Porsche 904s. Despite the mid-engine configuration’s obvious dominance, industry chiefs—Enzo Ferrari most notable among them—were dubious that their well-heeled customers had the skills needed to keep such a car safely on the road.

Lamborghini and his young development team had no such reservation. In fact, aeronautical engineering graduate Gian Paolo Dallara, then just 26 but already having served stints at both Ferrari and Maserati, insisted to his boss that a mid-engine road car was the way forward. Amplified by young engineer Paolo Stanzani, 27, and New Zealand-born race mechanic turned development driver Bob Wallace, also just 27, youthful confidence and vigor were in strong supply at Lamborghini’s Sant’Agata Bolognese headquarters, just down the street from Ferrari’s Modena workshop.

Ferruccio Lamborghini’s sights were not set on racing, but he anticipated the credibility such a road car would bring to his startup automaker and happily signed off on the Miura’s development.

The 350-hp, oversquare, 60-degree 4.0-liter Bizzarrini V-12 from the 400 GT would serve duty in the Miura, but Dallara determined it should be mounted transversely, not longitudinally as it was in the grand tourer. Not only did a transverse-mounted engine consolidate weight closer to the car’s midpoint, but it would also allow room for a token 5-cubic-foot trunk behind it. The team fabricated a welded steel chassis, drilled for lightness where feasible, with a central tunnel acting as a supporting backbone to which the front and rear bulkheads and floor pans attached. Italian design firm Bertone, which favorably had no formal ties with Ferrari or Maserati, took over the Miura’s design process with 25-year-old Marcello Gandini leading the charge, another youthful arrow in the car’s quiver of developers.

Throughout late 1965 and early 1966, the Miura slowly transformed from a figment of imagination to a running, driving car unlike any the world had seen. Low-slung and swoopy, the Miura’s large windshield swept back dramatically, and its roofline trailed down over the mid-mounted V-12 toward the car’s wide hips. Although prototypes had a plexiglass screen covering the engine, ventilation and visibility issues led Gandini to design a stylish set of louvers to keep rainwater out while preserving rearward visibility. Air intakes bulged from the rocker panels to keep the rear brakes cool and from behind the doors to feed fresh air to the engine’s four Weber carburetors. The Miura’s front hood and rear engine cover were made from aluminum (the doors, roof, and A-pillars were steel), and they opened clamshell-style for greater access to what lay within. The Fiat 850 Spider–derived headlights were perhaps the only awkward exterior feature, with their metal “eyelashes” and incohesive appearance when lifted into operational mode.

The cabin, too, was a sight to behold, with twin pods directly in front of the driver housing a large Jaeger speedometer on the left and tachometer on the right, while secondary gauges and switchgear were stashed in the hooded center stack that jutted from the middle of the dashboard. A five-speed shifter sprouted from naked chrome gates on the center console, which also lent space for the ignition switch and a comically large passenger grab handle. Switches that didn’t find homes here were reassigned to a ceiling-mounted pod behind the rearview mirror. A large, three-spoke, leather-covered steering wheel blocked much of the two instruments behind and sat squarely between most drivers’ knees, but it certainly looked the part.

Following the Miura’s debut, Wallace drove it to the F1 Monaco Grand Prix to run demonstration laps around the circuit. Ferruccio Lamborghini himself stirred up a crowd by revving the car’s V-12 loudly in front of the affluent locale’s famous Place du Casino. At the Paris auto show later in 1966, Wallace gave prospective buyers thrill rides around the show’s host city. Finally, in 1967, production began, and Lamborghini sold an impressive 108 examples by the end of that year.

But Miura development didn’t stop, with Dallara, Stanzani, and Wallace all improving the car even as orders continued to roll in. An S version arrived in late 1968 with better-quality cabin trimmings, a revised rear suspension, uprated Pirellis, and 20 more horsepower for 370 total. In 1971, the SV made its debut. Planned to be a special-order, higher-performing Miura, demand was strong enough that it instead entered regular production. Changes included flared rear fenders to fit wider 15-inch low-profile 60-series tires. Revised taillights and a refreshed nose with an integrated bumper, a mesh grille, and side markers were all new. The Miura lost its peculiar headlight eyelashes, and a glove box was added to the passenger-side dashboard. Power increased to 385 hp at 7,850 rpm courtesy of new cam timing, larger intake valves, and rejetted carburetors. Chassis reinforcements were perhaps the most significant improvements, and combined with a wider rear track made handling at the limit less treacherous. By now, the sprint to 60 mph took just 5.8 seconds, and top speed was said to be 180 mph. Yet the Miura’s end was nigh; in 1971, Lamborghini also showed the Gandini-designed, wedge-shaped Countach concept for the first time.

By 1973 the Miura’s production run came to an end, and the Countach picked up the torch for Lamborghini. But thanks to the Miura, the supercar era was in full swing with new mid-engine competitors arriving from Ferrari and Maserati, and the automotive landscape was never again the same. Likewise, neither was anyone who’s so much as drooled over a Miura in the sheetmetal.

This 1971 Lamborghini Miura SV No. 4912

Our subject car is a 1971 Miura SV, chassis No. 4912, generously lent to us for photography by RM Sotheby’s auction house and celebrity owner and car guy Adam Carolla. It was delivered new to its first owner in Texas before spending 20-odd years in Japan, beginning in the 1990s. After a period of inactivity, it returned to the U.S., where it was cosmetically restored. Following our photo shoot, RM Sotheby’s auctioned this Miura SV during its inaugural Petersen Automotive Museum Auction on December 8, 2018. Here’s how it did at auction.

The post Original Influencer: The History of the Lamborghini Miura appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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