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#f1 fem!driver
disneyprincemuke · 7 hours
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wasted like all my potential * fem!driver
jury's out: everything officially fucking sucks
pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: again i apologise for this taking so long apparently now that I'm kinda mentally no longer struggling with a 12k assignment, I've lost all feels to hurt rocky but no woRRIES IT'S COMING TO AN END SOON
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
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just another day listening to her team explaining another change to the car and another day where she hopes that it all works out in her favour.
she glances out the window of the meeting room, finding the usual corner that’s typically occupied by matt, still empty. she sinks in her seat and folds her arms over her chest as she desperately tries to dial herself back into the meeting.
she catches liam’s eye across the table, the kiwi lifting his eyebrows with a small nod to acknowledge her. she smiles tiredly at him before sucking in a deep breath and returning her gaze to the empty table in front of her.
it’s just another weekend where she tries to save both her and the team’s faces. how long can she keep up the act of having things together in front of the media?
something’s gotta give.
when the meeting ends, she simply picks herself up and is the first one out of the room. sebastian, who’d been sitting next to her, simply sighed to himself as she walked out.
it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of her lately. it’s not just something only he’s noticed, it’s happening to everybody else in the team. since they’d touched down at the airport for the race weekend, it’s even a miracle to get her attention for 5 minutes.
she’s always reserved or simply preferred her own company.
it’s apparent with every single person she interacts with. the girl used to be able to uphold a conversation by her talking alone, but now everything’s minimal. conversations never last more than a minute and she’s always found in her driver’s room by herself.
at first, he concluded that she was unhappy with him. which, would be perfectly fine, seeing the current state of her race weekends. he’s more shocked that she hasn’t blown up in front of him yet.
not a single scream, an utter of frustration… not even a tear shed in half a year and truthfully, it’s almost worrying.
“you’ve got to tell her before she finds out from elsewhere,” sebastian mutters, patting liam on the back as they leave the room. “she’ll be even angrier if it doesn’t come from you.”
“have you spoken to her lately? i don’t think i’ll even get a reaction out of her,” liam whispers back, pointing at the girl walking up the stairs by herself with her head hung low. “do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak to her?”
“yes,” sebastian says with a scowl, “i literally talk to her every weekend.”
liam gives him a knowing stare. “then you should know how unreachable she is nowadays.” he pushes sebastian in the direction of the stairs. “maybe you should speak with her first before i go in there.”
sebastian scoffs, stumbling forward. he turns around and stands next to liam again. “no way. you’re not sending me in there to fight a war by myself.”
“do i really have to? can’t she just find out like everybody else if it goes through?” liam scowls with a sarcastic laugh when sebastian nods.
sebastian pushes him forward. “go and tell her before the media gets a hold of these things and leaks it before you get the chance to break the news yourself,” sebastian says. “let’s not cause a commotion where it’s not needed.”
“fine,” liam mutters, stomping a foot on the ground. he fixes his team shirt and sucks in a deep breath, trying to rehearse his lines in his head. it’s one thing to get the courage to speak to her nowadays, but being the bearer of somewhat bad news is an entirely different situation.
he takes a step forward and looks back at sebastian, throwing him a mean glare. meanwhile, the older man just flashes him a bright smile and an encouraging nod.
he runs up the stairs and calls out to her. the girl stops and turns around. her straight face almost makes liam jump back, not expecting to be greeted so suddenly.
“yes?”
“i uh,” liam huffs and straightens his shirt, “i need to talk to you.”
she tilts her head, “is everything okay?”
liam smiles. seems like he’s caught her at a great time, which should make this slightly easier. “of course. i just need to tell you something; it’s important.”
“oh,” she raises her eyebrows and points down the hallway, “do you want to sit down and talk about it? that serious?”
he shakes his head. he just doesn’t want her to burst out at him. especially that he’s not one to know how to handle her if she breaks. “i can just tell you now,” he shrugs, making his way up the steps to meet her at the top. “but i want you to know that it’s nothing personal.”
nothing personal. so it has something to do with her? she feels her heart start to race in her chest and the room starts to spin. she bites down on her lip and starts to pick at the skin around her nails. “did i do something?”
“no,” liam shakes his head. “what? no, you didn’t do anything. is everything okay?”
she blinks, “yeah, why?”
liam sucks in a deep breath and eventually decides to brush it off. “well, i wanted to let you know that i’m getting offers from other teams for next season.”
he watches her expression change, contorting into an expression he’s not quite sure how to decipher it. so he quickly tries to undo it. “i haven’t signed anything yet. but you know… with the year we’re having, i want to keep my options open. i’ll tell you if something catches my eye.”
he stumbles back, not even realising that she’d made her way down to him, throwing her arms around him. “i’m so happy for you, liam. you deserve to have options.”
he looks down at her body, tightly clinging onto him. “really?”
“of course.” she takes a step back and pats his chest. “you’re the best teammate ever. any team would be lucky to have you as their driver.”
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she climbs out of her car with a grumble, half annoyed and half amused. amused that her luck has continued its plummet with every weekend she spends in on a track.
she snarls down at her car as she tears her helmet off her head. “you’re a stupid car,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “you’ll never be anything like last year’s car. you suck.”
she is fully aware of how crazy she sounds, and looks, telling an inanimate object off. but as of late, it seems those are the only things she can vent to that won’t turn its back on her. the only thing that won’t retaliate when she needs to scream at it.
“if i could kick you, i would,” she mutters with a scowl. “i’d break you apart like a fucking lego set if it wouldn’t get me fired.”
she feels a tap on her shoulder, whirling around to find sebastian smiling at her and her phone held in the air.
“matt’s calling you.” she nods and reaches out for her phone but he pulls it back at the last second. “are you okay? i know quali wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but they’re looking into it to make the car better for tomorrow.”
“seb,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed frown, “you say that every weekend we’re in here. are you not sick of saying that?”
he drops his hand. “well, one of us needs to keep our head up with this season we’re having.” he smiles slightly and offers her the ringing phone. “you shouldn’t let it get to you — you’re still a great driver.”
“that’s not what it feels like lately,” she mutters, grabbing her phone from sebastian. “i should be able to make a car work. it shouldn’t matter if it’s good or bad.” she glances down at her buzzing phone, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. she presses the decline button. “i’ll be at the media pen if you need me.”
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she watches from the window in her driver’s room, her friends all gathered up, walking towards the gantries to exit the paddocks. they’re leaving to head for dinner without her after she’d refused their offer again.
oscar had approached her in the media pen to invite her out for dinner with them but she’d just not been feeling it. which would make this the 5th invitation that she’s rejected in 11 race weekends. oscar didn’t force her anymore; just simply shrugged and took her ‘no’ as it is.
which somehow made her feel even worse. which is even funnier, considering that just 2 races ago, she’d been wishing for her friends to invite her out after days in the paddocks. but there was something about her best friend taking her answer point blank without another word.
it feels so… isolating.
what if they’ve finally gotten tired of her rejection? what if they’re tired of her?
she whirls around to face her room. it’s messier than she’d usually keep it, her team shirts are lazily hung on the back of her chair and the sofa, her makeup is sprawled messily all over the table with a half-empty coffee cup that she had silently with sebastian for a strategy meeting.
the framed picture of her and sebastian is up on the wall again, with some attempt from sebastian to help her put it up again. she wishes that he’d never offered to help her put it back up. every time she looks at it, she remembers all her former glory and how far she’s fallen now.
and by meeting, she means that he spoke the entire time while she sat there nodding and smiling politely while thinking about how bad the car would be once she got in it.
and liam is leaving. well, he’s not technically leaving yet but seeing how their year keeps going down, it’s likely that he would. and she’s got a contract for another 3 years — where the hell is she going to go? nowhere because she has to stay here.
but everyone seems to be leaving her after her behaviour. but it’s hard to stop feeling this way.
how can she not feel this way?
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if liam’s finished in the top 5 in the race and she’s out of the points, what does that mean for her? she’s just half the driver she was, she thinks.
she finds herself in the bar after feeling the need to be here. liam now holds the record for the highest finish for her team this season, after all. and she’s not about to be labelled a sore loser by not being here at all.
though she could almost predict being the talk of the town with her tucking herself in the corner of the club half the time they spent in there. people always find a way to vilify her actions anyway.
but in a way, she shouldn’t have come out of her hotel room. she shouldn’t have gone anywhere knowing her state of mind. she hasn’t had a drop of liquor in her system for a hot minute, but the minute she was reminded of its glorious taste, she couldn’t hold herself back.
she’s on her knees in the back alley of the club they’d dragged her to, hands planted on the gravel as she struggles to hold herself over the drainage. she takes deep breaths to steady herself, blinking in desperation to steady herself.
“fuck.” she shuts her eyes momentarily, taking another deep breath as she feels a sob and another urge to vomit. moreover, her chest hurts. could it be from drinking too much too fast or is it something deeper than that? she can never tell.
“hey, you’ve been– rocky?”
“don’t,” she sobs, holding a hand up quickly to stop whatever else could have come out of the man’s mouth. she balls her hands against the gravel, the pain of dragging her skin against the rough material doesn’t register, but it does cut into her skin. “whatever you’re going to say, keep it to yourself.”
she feels a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and suddenly there’s someone kneeling on the ground next to her. she feels her hair getting brushed back, held into a makeshift ponytail. “i won’t,” liam mutters, slouching slightly. “what do you need? a glass of water? do you need me to take you back to the hotel?”
she shakes her head as another heavy sigh passes her lips. “i don’t know.”
“i’m going to get you a glass of water from the club, okay?” liam hums, squeezing her hand. “please don’t go anywhere. i’ll only be away for a second, stay conscious.”
she nods through staggered breaths. her hair falls past her shoulders to cover her face and the warm hand on her back is replaced by the cold wind.
she grabs liam’s arm just before he gets up. “don’t tell anyone about this.” she turns slightly. her red eyes and puffed cheeks almost made liam want to stay and cradle her until she felt better then and there. “please.”
there’s something about seeing someone — her, specifically — get wasted. she’s always prided herself as someone who can take her liquor, so this was a whole new look that, honestly, he didn’t want to get used to.
how exactly do you try and relight the spark in someone who seems to dwindle away with every weekend that passes?
he doesn’t ever speak up, but he spends the most time with her out of everyone at this point in their lives. he knows; he notices. it’s hard not to when the tension in the air always seems so heavy.
liam nods. “of course.”
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“i’m going to miss you,” she says with a frown, resting on her knees. she unzips the pet carrier and she cups kidnapper’s cheeks and tenderly pets his head. “i just need some time but i can’t take care of you right now.”
the cat simply tilts his head and tenderly lifts its head to rub the top of his head on her cheek. she wraps her arms around kidnapper and sighs.
she knew the day would come, sooner or later, that she couldn’t really take care of kidnapper. sure, he makes her apartment feel less isolated but it’s slowly becoming harder to take care of herself and the cat alike.
there are hours when it feels like a task to get herself out of bed for herself. much less for a cat that depends on her to be taken care of.
so she zips up the carrier and wipes her tears off her face. she composes herself before she forces herself to her feet. she knocks on the door and waits for an answer.
“must be someone we know if you’re not barking!” she hears logan laugh, followed by footsteps and then stubby’s loud footsteps against the hardwood flooring of his apartment.
the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas with a small grin. right by his feet is stubby, wagging his tail happily at her with a large smile and hopping on the spot at her sight and scent. “rocky,” he says in surprise with a small grin.
he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she’d been easier to reach lately. but in the passing weeks, it seems that she’s started to pull away from him and oscar.
it’s always a nice surprise when she shows up to his apartment unannounced. but with the familiar carrier by her feet, it makes him wonder what really brings her here. especially considering that she’s practically gone off the grid every single time they’re not in the paddocks for a race weekend.
she completely ignores their messages.
“what are you doing here?”
she had a whole speech prepared the entire time she walked over to his apartment building. a lie about needing him to take care of kidnapper for her while she spent the next couple of weeks in the states with matt.
but she ends up with, “i need someone to take care of kidnapper.”
“of course,” logan grins, tilting his head. “is everything okay? have you been crying?”
“watched a sad movie before coming here,” she forces a laugh out of herself, pointing at the carrier. “you don’t mind, do you? just a couple of weeks — i’m going out of town.”
she wasn’t expecting to make conversation with logan. in fact, that’s the entire reason she’d planned a speech prior to coming here with her cat in tow.
“we don’t mind,” he smiles. “arkansas with matt’s family, i suppose?”
she nods, “yeah.”
how exactly do you talk to your best friend who feels like she’s always a thousand miles away? “well, um,” logan hums, “do you want to come in for a drink? maybe a snack?”
she should accept the offer. “i’m leaving tonight, actually. i still have a lot of packing to do,” she feigns a frown, “maybe after i get back?”
logan nods with a grin. “sure. take care, dude, and have fun.”
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williamsracinggf · 2 months
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you don't go to parties * vrau
what would life be like if they'd never resolved their issues after their crash in montreal?
word count: 1.8k
notes: hi posting on here again bc the lack of applause is kinda driving me crazy idk sue me i guess
in case you're not aware, disneyprincemuke got shadowbanned and i reFUUUUUSE to not be the centre of attention when i poured my whole pussy into a fic so here i am using my main to post </3 (i live for the applause)
(series masterlist) | (📂 in every other life)
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she looks around the bar, heart pounding in her head as she tries to sift out for a familiar face in the crowd of the club. her face and name are plastered on every single screen of the bar, as per max’s drunken request when he got here before she could. apparently, winning your first championship doesn’t grant you the immunity to escape media commitments; it actually gives you more. especially when you’re the first woman, and you’ve set the new record as the youngest driver to ever win it.
everyone she loves and wants to celebrate with is here in this club with her right now, except the one person she prayed and hoped would show up for her.
realistically, she should be happy. in fact, she should be ecstatic that she’s finally managed to prove all of the doubters wrong. but her heart is heavy and she’s got tears in her eyes as she continually looks around with hope that the person she wants to be here, changed his mind. but no.
she’s walked about 3 rounds in the club, went high and low searching for the familiarity that his company brought her. alas, he is nowhere to be found.
she didn’t want to believe sebastian at first when he told her that he saw logan leaving the paddocks shortly after the evening was over for him. and he knew that for a fact because the american had bid him a cheerful goodbye before leaving the paddocks with his girlfriend.
“why are you all alone here, world champ?” max hums, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. he pulls her into his side and presses a kiss on her temple as he guides her through the crowd around them. “you’re supposed to be with us celebrating — not hanging out here by yourself. everyone’s been waiting for you at the vip area.”
she looks up at him, lips turned down into a frown as she follows him willingly. she hesitates asking her question — they’ve been over this several times since it had blown up in her face — but she does, anyway. she takes a deep breath and cranes her neck back to look at logan. “have you seen logan anywhere?”
“oh.” max stops in the crowd, earning them a couple of curses from intoxicated clubgoers. “you’re looking for logan.”
max isn’t saying that he’s upset to hear the question. although, if anyone were to ask him, he’d prefer not to discuss this right now on one of the most important nights of her life. plus, they’ve talked about logan over and over.
“yeah. i haven’t see him at all since we stood on the podium tonight,” she says softly in a shakey voice. “have you seen him?”
she saw him very briefly as she was presented with the race trophy. she caught his gaze as he watched from the crowd below, hovering not too far away from the crowd that had formed, his jaw clenched and his arms folded over his chest. she tried to smile at him, but the older man simply turned and walked away before she could.
she tried searching for him in the paddocks, but she couldn’t catch up to him the one time she saw him. a reporter had stopped her before she could make a run after him.
max presses his lips together and looks down at her. should he just tell her the truth? but something tells him that she already knows that logan isn’t in attendance tonight. perhaps sebastian told her and she just needs another person to find reason with? “mate…”
she laughs dryly, immediately wiping the tear that’s fallen out of her eyes. “yeah. okay, let’s just go.”
she pushes max away slightly and starts walking back in the direction they were heading originally. she doesn’t know why she’s still so upset over it. the season has come and gone without logan’s friendship — that’s about 5 long months of attempting to get over their downfall.
“mate, come on,” max sighs, pulling her back into him. “you can’t keep dwelling over it, you know? you approached him and he simply didn’t want to be friends anymore. you did what you could.”
perhaps max is right. to an extent, she thinks. she will tell you that you are right to an extent when you bring up the fact to her — the fact that she did eventually tried reaching out to logan after she put her pride aside and apologised to him.
“i could have done more,” she says firmly, grabbing max’s arm to tear his grip from her. “i shouldn’t have been so stupid in canada. i wound up fucking winning the championship, anyway.”
max shakes his head. it seems that no one can get through to her. it’s been 5 months since the incident where they crashed out in montreal and when she fell out with logan. he never thought that there would be another falling out as bad as this in the sport.
when it first happened, sebastian had tried to talk the girl out of her anger. she was insistent, for a week after the crash, that she was right and logan’s wrong; that logan should be the one apologising to her. he desperately scraped at what he could to get her to talk to him, knowing how bad it’s gotten — she didn’t even bother heading back to their shared apartment after that weekend, she stayed in her parent’s home for the next week after the canadian grandprix.
mark had also tried stepping in to talk her out of it, but nothing the australian said to her ever stuck. oscar had finally stepped forward as well, eventually, to try and get his best friends to make up. even he wasn’t enough of a bargaining chip.
and then the most unexpected duo decided to come together, much to their own dismay, to try and talk to her. lewis and nico spoke to her together and snapped her out of her blind anger. she would wind up showing up to their apartment with an apology and 2 tubs of ice cream.
only to find out that logan had already moved out over the 2-week break without saying anything to anyone.
she tried reaching out and approaching logan in the paddocks thereafter, but the older man was simply not interested in rekindling the friendship. he would be civil with her when he had to, but overall, he would avoid her like they hadn’t spent the past half of their lives under the same household and growing up together.
as hard as it was for her, imagine how difficult it was for oscar to be in the middle of all that. it had gotten increasingly difficult to manage hanging out with either. when he had taken a step back to reflect and think about it, logan realistically needed him more than she did.
so when she thought she’d only lost one best friend, she’d unknowingly lost two at the time.
but she didn’t lose oscar the same way she lost logan. while oscar kept some distance from her, choosing logan’s plans over hers and talking to her less, his way of going about it hurt her more than logan’s disappearance from her life ever did.
it’s like he was there, but not there.
which is why it’s a shock that oscar stayed in the paddocks for her after she cleaned herself from the champagne showers with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
at that point, she hasn’t hung out with oscar since their weekend in barcelona for their race, so she didn’t ask any questions. she just left the paddocks with oscar and mick, trying to brush off the odd and uncomfortable feeling that would rise up whenever she remembered the state of their friendship. but what’s important was that oscar showed up for her again when she needed him.
she just wishes logan would come out and do the same.
she stumbles forward as a body hits her shoulder on accident. “oh!” oscar screams with a smile. he slings his arm around her shoulder. “we were looking for you, mate! we’re gonna order the house special for the world champion!”
it hurt oscar to distance himself from her — he didn’t only lose her when he did that, he also lost blythe, ciara and dalton in the process.
while the 3 younger siblings understood and kept their distance as well after the fight, he couldn’t help but feel empty at the way they were so good at doing that out of respect for their older sister.
he just wishes it hadn’t gotten to this point. he missed her, really, but he couldn’t just leave logan’s side. she had more people supporting her than logan did when they were in the paddocks.
he would only catch glimpses of her life on her instagram and sometimes when they would have a chat to catch up. if he’s lucky, lily would tell him what they discussed over their frequent hang outs. even then, it simply isn’t the same as hanging out with the girl he thought would be his best friend forever.
“i love that drink!” max screams. he pushes her forward with a small and apologetic smile. “come on. we’ll have fun with you tonight. the club is ours — yearly tradition of the world champs.”
“yeah, but–“
“hey, i’ve been looking for you all over the place.” as oscar steps away from her with a laugh, another arm slings itself around her shoulders. she turns her head, furrowing her eyebrows as she meets with blue eyes that shine through the dimness of the club. “you’re just right here all along.”
she laughs sheepishly, throwing her head back with a soft laugh. “yeah, um,” she shakes her head, “just scoping out the place. it’s different when you’re the one the night’s dedicated to, i guess.”
and when logan had pulled away from her, another person had stepped in and tried to be there for her. she doesn’t know where it came from — perhaps it’s her association with sebastian, or that they were in prema together — but mick came forward and started being there for her more.
which then, well, led to this.
“ah, i thought you’d escaped to the peacefulness of our hotel room,” mick laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “ready to get drunk tonight, love? promise i won’t marry you this time around.”
oscar snorts, walking around the three of them. he pushes them all forward in the direction of where the rest of the grid — and her team — is waiting for them. “not until her dad stops fanboying over the fact that his eldest is on the path to being an actual schumacher.”
mick snorts, pulling her into his body. “i need to get over the fact that my girlfriend’s the youngest world champion in formula 1.”
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sadieurlady · 22 days
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A/N: HIIII omg first ficcc ever! i was looking for a fic inspired by sleep patterns by merchant ships and couldn’t find any, so i decided to write it myself! as this is my first fic don't expect much and don't expect correct grammar. the storyline definitely won’t follow the song perfectly but anywho enjoyyyy!
ps: lyrics will be edited to fit the narrative
MV1 x fem driver!reader
TW: death, nightmares SO SO SO much angst
song lyrics will look like this
559 words
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as we sit on the hood of his car, the sun goes down and he asks me what I want out of my life. I tell him I don't know
you stare out at the sunset as the two of you sit on the hood of his car. "what do you want out of life? like after we retire, what are you gonna do?" he asks me as I stare. "i'm not sure max, I'm not sure I know what life even is yet" you say as you turn to him. "whatever it is I'm sure it'll be great as long as we have each other" he smiles taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. "I hope so max, I really hope so" you whisper.
I don't tell him about the dream I had the night before Where I'm driving my car and I swerve off the track and hit a barrier I fly out of my car and hit the edge of a fence Dislocating my jaw and flipping me into a wall Where my neck is broken, and my skull is fractured I bleed to death in excruciating pain
max wakes up to you tossing and turning in the middle of the night, you’re covered in sweat in and crying as you whisper "no, no" over and over again. "baby, babe wake up, c'mon wake up" he gently shakes you and brings you into his arms as you wake up with sobs. "what happened liefje?' he asks with concern as he holds you tightly kissing the top of your head and lightly stroking your back. you just sob shaking your head as he tries to calm you down. eventually you fall asleep in his arms as he stays awake, worried about you.
i will have this dream periodically I will set these events in motion and I will die but today in the warm light of the sunset I don't see it, I just see the sunset
you have been unusually clingy with max (not that he's complaining). you sit on 'max lap as he streams. "why so affectionate baby?" max asks with a chuckle "just love you s'all" you mumble, nuzzling into his neck. "love you to liefje" he smiles as the two of you bask in the dying sunlight as he streams.
I smile back and shake my head I have absolutely no idea, I am afraid.
everything was falling into place, it was like a strange constant feeling of deja-vu. you really didn't want to get in the car but what were you risking your career for? an uncertain feeling? with hesitation you kissed max lightly before you both stepped into your cars. with tears in your eyes, you drove until the inevitable happened, your tyre had caught some debris sending you spinning and flipping into the middle of the track, not being able to stop fast enough a mclaren hits you sending you flying and barrel rolling into the air. somehow the hit you received had made it possible for you to fly out of your car hitting the top of the barrier fence and falling to the and finally hitting the barrier leaving you resting motionless on the gravel. everyone knew, knew that there was no way you had survived that. max sobbed into his helmet as he tried to get out of his car and run to you. the crowd was silent and crofty's commentary couldn't be heard. max reached your body and he pulled both of your helmets off and sobbed as he held your body. his love was gone and he couldn't bring you back. he sobbed and sobbed cradling your face in his hands. max never knew what your nightmares were truly about, and he would never be able to find out. he would never feel your touch or hear your voice again. you were dead.
ahh I hope you enjoyed this!
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garbage-w-panda · 5 months
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I've been seeing a lot of f1 fics n' what not. I'm not like insanely into f1 or motorsports. But I love the fics of fem gen z being an f1 driver! So I present my gen z driver hc! It's all going to be platonic. (P.S.A, it's not accurate at all like I don't think some parts are even allowed, but I think it's funny)
She's on the shorter side, a little shorter than Yuki. She has facial dysmorphia and really likes to separate her public and personal life. So she wears a motorcycle helmet when she's not wearing her racing helmet. Does not give a flying fuck what other people think about her helmet (it helps with camra shyness and eye contact). She also rides motorcycles on her off time. 1000% sleeps hugging a stuffed animal (it's very comfortable).
She's feral, on crack if you will, but once the race starts, she switches a flip and instantly zones in. Her warm-up is using those balance boards for surfing and juggling small bean bags. Naps or stretches during red flag calls (if she wasn't the one that crashed). Very open on mental health and dark jokes thrown everywhere. Cold and not very social first, but once she's comfortable, she won't stop talking if given the chance.
That's all I got for now... might come up with some scenarios later :3
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jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
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big dad vibes.
dad!ln x fem!reader
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in which lando becomes a dad, and a series of moments that follow
back with more brainrot! this time it’s for dad!lando bc the baby fever is fevering and lando just had to go and talk about having kids on that podcast. my first time using social media elements as well so i hope you enjoy! ALSO! huge thank you for 3k, love you all and i cannot thank you enough for your support! 💘
warnings: minors pls dni with my work! mentions of pregnancy, children, minor angst, super duper fluff, suggestive jokes here and there, dilf!lando
1. the birth
lando’s legs couldn’t have carried him any faster than they already were. the hospital rooms disappeared past in a flash, his eyes scanning the hallways for one door. everything he’d ever wanted waited for him on the other side of that one door.
it was typical, really, that the one time he’d left your side since the season ended, you went into labour. he’d begdrudgingly listened when you told him to go to his meeting, despite the feeling in his gut that told him not to. lando knew, now, that his instincts were right.
the second he’d seen your face flash up on his phone, he was out of the conference room. you wouldn’t have called him unless it was an emergency. everything seemed to be moving in slow motion when he put the phone down, but then he was sprinting, through the double doors before him, past the line of cars, and out towards his car, speeding away from the MTC. the traffic fine he knew he was in for was worth it.
your words rang in his ears.
“lando… it’s time.” you’d breathed down the phone, accompanied by a shaky laugh.
and now he was looking at the door. it opened, slowly, and there you were, draped in a hospital gown, tired eyes bloodshot and soft. you were smiling, crying, and he fell to his knees before you.
“someone wants to meet you.” you cooed, and then he was crying too.
lando squeezed your knee, trying to pull himself together but it was futile. the most precious ray of light stirred in your arms, how would he ever be able to stop crying? you’d created that, you and him, and now she was here.
“can i…?” lando stood from where he was worshipping you, hoodie sleeve mopping up his tears.
“take all that off.” you replied.
“trying to get me naked already? i thought it would be at least six weeks-“ he teased.
“no, you sod. skin on skin contact.” you groaned, grinning helplessly at the man that had made you a mother.
he laughed along with you quietly, stripping the layers and sitting beside you on the hospital bed. you searched his excited eyes, melting as you placed your little girl in his awaiting arms.
and then he was falling in love.
the winter sunlight streamed through the window, a soft glow encapsulating your little family. lando sat next to you in dead silence, counting ten little fingers, ten little toes, memorising the dimpled curve of two lips, the crease between two softly shut eyes. his heart was bursting in a way it never had before, a new lease of life breathed into his body that fulfilled him more than anything ever had.
“are you okay, baby? i’m so sorry i wasn’t here.” lando mumbled, kissing your shoulder. he looked up at you, scanning your tired face, knowing that you’d never looked so beautiful. you cupped his cheek, pressing your forehead against his.
“the pain was worth it.” you quirked your lips, tilting your head so that you could kiss him. you felt his fresh tears wetting your cheeks, and you smiled into the kiss.
“i got here as quick as i could, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here to hold your hand.” lando was heartbroken to have missed the birth of his first child, guilty even, but you wouldn’t let that feeling linger.
“i’m just happy that you’re here now, i promise. we’ve gotta name this little love.” you pecked his lips again, cuddling into his side.
you’d been backwards and forwards on names for months, never landing on anything that seemed to fit. you’d read countless lists of names, brainstormed names of people you loved, but you just couldn’t agree.
“can we talk about it later? just wanna look at her for a bit longer. like, forever.” lando mumbled, and as if she recognised her daddy’s voice, your baby’s grey blue eyes fluttered open.
“oh.” he gasped.
you watched in pure adoration as they stared at each other, neither of them willing to look away first. a bond was forming before your eyes, and you felt like the earth was moving under your feet.
lando knew, staring into big blue eyes, that nothing would ever be the same again.
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landonorris: welcome to the world, the one and only matilda norris ❤️
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2. the race
“lando, you cannot take her into the bloody media pen!” you scolded, ignoring the bark of a laugh he let out in response.
you were midway through changing matilda’s nappy, dressing her in the tiny mclaren t-shirt that the team had gifted you when you welcomed her to the world.
she was nearly six months old now, with the cutest smile and a laugh that could bring an entire room to tears. you were at your home in monaco, preparing to descend down the hills towards the marina where the race would be. this would be her first race weekend, and lando couldn’t have been more excited for her to make her debut at the track.
he also couldn’t have been more nervous.
the idea of putting your baby into such a hectic environment made lando sweat, which was why you’d left it until monaco, so that you had a home base to sneak away to if it all got too much.
“are you nearly ready to go, baby?” lando came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he was peering over your shoulder, gazing at the giggling baby on her changing mat. “and what about you, matty? you ready to watch daddy drive?”
“i’m sure you’ll have her undivided attention.” you joked, turning your head to kiss his jaw. “can you put her in the car?”
lando scooped up his daughter, placing her gently into the baby carrier. you grabbed the changing bag and followed him out of the apartment, smiling hard at the quiet nursery rhyme he was singing. you locked up and trailed behind the duo, watching intently as he secured matilda’s car seat.
“see something you like?”lando called behind him, shaking his ass at you cheekily.
“you know i do, that’s how i got pregnant.” you stuck your tongue out at him.
-
the entire weekend was hectic, lando having the time of his life. he’d put his mclaren on the front row, the race flying by where he claimed second place and a rightful spot of the podium. you’d kissed him hard, matilda’s grabby hands tugging at his curls when he’d dipped down to press his lips to yours. he smirked, scheming something, and then he took the infant from under your arm, whisking her over to his interview.
“lando norris, what a race that was for you!” jenson button bellowed into the mic. “and it looks like you’ve been busy off track, too! who’s this little one?”
“the one and only matilda norris.” lando replied, pearly whites on display. he’d never looked happier, and you could feel your eyes welling with tears. lando grabbed her little hand softly, making her wave at the camera. “proud of daddy, matty?” he cooed, and you were a wreck.
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landonorris: matty’s first race 🏎️ 🧡
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3. that time matilda crawled
“babe!” lando’s voice echoed through the house, up into your bedroom. you were fresh out of the shower, wringing your hair dry with a towel, nearly jumping out of your skin when he called.
“what is it, honey?” you shouted back, grabbing your (his) robe from the back of the door.
“you gotta come see this.” he sounded giddy and you bounded down the stairs, speeding into the living room.
“what’s going on?” you asked him, watching him practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“matty crawled.” lando beamed.
your eyes flitted to your daughter, sat quite casually on her play-mat.
“uh…” you said slowly. you wanted to believe him, but the evidence was not lining up. she was getting closer each day, but still seemed to be a tad far off of going the full stretch.
“she did! i swear!” he turned his attention back to matilda, dropping to the floor beside her. “c’mon matty, show mummy! i know you can do it, sweetie.” lando cooed.
“can i finish getting ready?”
“baby, she’s gonna do it again and you’re gonna miss it!”
“okay, just shout if she starts spitting bars.” you teased, turning to leave.
lando was pouting, but as if she sensed her fathers frustration, matilda had a point to prove. she pushed herself up from her tummy, fighting her way towards you.
“oh, my love.” you cooed, hand splayed over your mouth. she was growing up way too fast, but that was eclipsed by the pride bubbling hot in your chest.
“see?” lando pulled you into his side, gleeful. you moulded into him, lip quivering as you watched her wriggle around. “oh, baby, don’t cry.” he pressed a kiss to your hairline.
“happy tears, i promise.”
“she’s so clever, just like her mama.”
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5. the backlash
the clips circulating online made you feel ill.
lando had just done another podcast, and the topic of his family had come up. they’d set the trap, and he’d fallen right into it, pressuring him about how he approached racing and being a father. he’d tried, bless him, but the way they’d cut the interview made it look like little matty played second fiddle to daddy’s racing car.
you’d been in the studio while your baby slept peacefully beside you, you knew exactly what he’d said, and now the tweets circulating about your boyfriend made you want to scream.
you were no stranger to the occasional landogate, but he’d gotten a lot better over the years. lando didn’t care much for the way the media twisted his words anymore, but when it came to his family, his flesh and blood, he quite simply couldn’t take it.
lando hadn’t come out of his gaming room all day. you’d let him marinate for a few hours, but you hadn’t seen him in too long, and you were starting to panic. matty kept spitting out little strings of words, dadadada spluttering out her little mouth. she wanted him, and you needed him, so you swept her up in your arms and carried her up the stairs.
you tapped on the door, pushing it open before you got a response. he was slumped in his gaming chair, hood up, spinning around aimlessly. he looked so deflated, staring at nothing, manufactured guilt eating him up.
“hey, honey. matty wants her daddy.” you called softly, wading into the room. lando sighed, but took her out of your arms immediately.
“better take what i can get, before she realises what a terrible father i am.” he mumbled sarcastically.
“hey, no. don’t do that, lando. don’t fall into this mindset. you and i both know that you’re a fucking amazing father.” you wagged your finger at him as you spoke. he just slumped further into his seat, letting matty pull at the drawstrings of his hoodie.
“maybe they’re right, though. i was always so scared of this part. what if she grows up and is ashamed of me?” he whispered, eyes honing in on his daughter.
“oh, baby.” it physically hurt you to see him so down on himself. you were ready to burn twitter to the fucking ground. “you’re the best father i could have wished for. she’s literally a little lando! god, honey, she loves you so much. and of course she would - you’re her whole world.”
“when she won’t sleep with me, ten seconds in your arms, and she conked out. when she’s bored, she only wants her dad. don’t even get me started on that annoying stubborn streak she’s showing. lando, she could never be ashamed of you. she is you.” you continued.
lando sighed shakily, pressing a kiss to matty’s forehead before placing her carefully on the ground. some of her toys were scattered there, so she made a beeline for her orange teddy, without a care in the world for you and lando. he spread his arms for you, ushering you in and you sat on his lap, cuddling into him.
“i love you, baby. you don’t know how thankful i am that you gave me this life.” he said into your chest, kissing right over your heart.
you knew everything would be okay, anyone with eyes could see how much he adored his little girl. and anyway, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought; all that mattered was that you had each other, and that was more than enough for lando.
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5. matty’s first birthday!
your house was full of laughter, shades of pink, purple and yellow decorating every surface. balloons covered the ceiling, a big 1 taking up half your kitchen. and in the middle of all the colourful chaos, your boyfriend held your one year old daughter, bouncing her on his knee.
they were a picture, a truly stunning one, two identical sets of eyes crinkling at the corners while they laughed together. your heart was bursting, nothing able to contain the butterflies in your stomach as you watched the two greatest loves of your life.
stuffed toys and little pairs of shoes covered every surface, wrapped up with big ribbons. all of your favourite people were in one room, your families coming together with all of your friends to celebrate 365 days of matilda.
matty had spent her day playing with sylvie, george’s young daughter, while lando took photos from every angle humanly possible. then there was the cake, which lando had let the little girl smash all over her face. you’d scold him later, the moment was far too precious.
you were caught up watching lando play with matilda, when max came up to you.
“never seen him happier.” max beamed, pulling you into a side hug. you ruffled his hair in response.
“can’t believe we made her.” you muttered, head falling against his shoulder. you were awestruck.
“when are you having another one? he’s gagging for it.” max was joking with you, but the look you gave him made him do a double, triple, quadruple take. you were smirking. “wait… wait what?”
“sooner than you might think.” you patted your tummy slyly. “he doesn’t know yet, i only just found out last night. wanted matty to have her day and then i’ll tell him when she’s gone to sleep.”
max was staring at you, bewildered. you may have even seen a tear in his eye.
“oh, i love you guys. so fucking happy for you.” he whispered.
you caught sight of lando watching, his head tilted in confusion. you just winked at him.
-
“she went down easy. think today really took it out of her.” lando said as he walked into your bedroom. you were sat waiting for him, hands resting behind your back.
“thank you for today, it was perfect.” you beamed when he leaned down to kiss you.
you watched him get ready for bed, stripping down to just his sweats, and then he joined you, lounging across the foot of the bed.
“hey, what were you talking to max about, babe?” lando asked.
“a gift that i got you.” you replied coyly.
“a gift?” lando looked confused, and the confusion only grew when you pulled your hands from behind your back, placing a little gift bag in front of him.
“yep. hope you like it.” you kept your expression neutral.
he picked up the bag, rustling through the tissue paper, and then he found it.
a little white stick.
lando stared blankly, eyes flitting rapidly between your face and the pregnancy test in his hand.
“baby…” he started, but he lost his train of thought. instead, he launched himself at you, cuddling you into the mattress. you were laughing while he pressed his lips all over your face, your neck, ending with your belly.
“good gift?” you giggled, watching as his hand smoothed over the soft skin of your tummy.
“the fucking best.”
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landonorris: for matty’s first birthday, we’re giving her a sibling 🫶
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6. family sized
lando norris, father of two, reporting for duty.
leo norris was born under the english sun, the late august heat making your labour a difficult one.
from the minute he was born, leo had a personality, angry, passionate eyes glaring at you and lando, a cry tearing from him that could end wars. he was gonna be a force, that little boy, not that you were complaining.
lando had fallen in love again, only having a few days to adjust before he was racing around europe, but he always found a way to slip into bed with you in the early hours of monday mornings, leo sprawled across his tanned chest. he’d watch the two of you sleep, listening out for matty down the hall.
and then she’d wake up, and lando would lay leo by your side, padding next door to your daughters bedroom. the pitter patter of her little feet and lando’s big laugh would wake you up. mornings were the best part of your day, all four of you tucked up in bed together before the chaos began.
it was hard sometimes, but life was bliss. you had the most wonderful partner, two gorgeous children, happiness that you couldn’t have ever fathomed right at your fingertips.
lando finally realised how big the world was, now that his family was often on the other side of it. he ached every second his heart was away from his kids but watching them grow, getting to see them smile, matilda clinging to his legs the second he came home, made it all worth it.
and god, coming home to you, whether you were waiting with open arms at the door or tucked up in white linen bedsheets in one of his t-shirts, was fucking delightful. you were his person, the one that gave him a reason to get up and smile, and he’d do quite possibly anything to keep you happy until you were old and grey by his side.
“matty, what do you say when we say goodbye to chat?” lando asked his little girl.
he was wrapping up a stream, matilda finding her rightful place as his new cohost - max was hardly coping with being replaced but that was a separate issue.
lando bowed his head, looking at matty encouragingly and she beamed hard at the screen. she was two years old, with the bubbliest personality and the brightest eyes in the entire world.
“gg boys.” she grinned toothily at the camera, and lando’s squawk of a laugh summoned you into the room.
lando was logging off when you walked in, watching from the doorway. leo was down for his nap, and matty was soon due hers.
“what are you two getting up to?” you chimed in, leaning into the wall.
“matty’s gonna be a gamer.” lando said in his sing-song voice, the one he reserved for when one of his kids did something that made his eyes sparkle.
“no call of duty.” you said sternly, looking at him pointedly.
“don’t worry, baby. f1 game only, she’s gonna be a racing driver.”
“just like her daddy.” you whispered, watching the duo high five in their matching hoodies.
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landonorris: @/mclaren i’m gonna need a bigger car
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youruser: big dad vibes 💘
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7. long time coming
lando held his son tight, watching you and matty examine tiny sea shells in the little rock pools that were forming. the sun was setting over the monegasque beach, beams of pink and orange light bathing your family as it bounced off the soft waves.
leo was wriggling in lando’s arms, the two year old boy desperate to join his mother and his sister splashing around in the shallows, but lando kept a hold of him. leo was too mischievous for his own good, cheekier than the average two year old. perhaps it had something to do with who his father was.
“daddy, come look.” matty called, so lando waded into the water, ankle deep. that little girl had him wrapped around her finger. he cast his eyes over matilda’s inquisitive face, glancing at you for just a second, and that’s all it took for you to steal the air from his lungs.
you were more radiant than ever, as beautiful as the day he’d met you and fallen so helplessly in love. he hadn’t stopped falling in love since. you’d made him a father, you’d given him a family, you’d taught him what it was to be truly, unequivocally happy.
and now all you had to say was yes.
“that’s lovely, sweetie.” lando cooed at matty, eyeing the handful of seashells she’d collected. “wanna go play on the sand? we have that gift to give mummy.” lando winked at the little girl, who took off running, splashing sea water over you both.
once she was out of earshot, you turned to lando.
“you’re not pregnant, are you?” you teased, thinking back to the gift you’d given him those years ago, who was now tucked sleepily into lando’s chest.
“how did you know?” lando joked back.
he grabbed your hand, toes sinking into the sand as you made your way towards matty, who was fidgeting on the picnic blanket you’d laid out earlier. as soon as you reached her, lando gave her the sly nod, the signal that he’d taught her over the last few days, and her sweet little voice called out to you.
“mummy?”
“yes, my love?” you kneeled down on the blanket, eye level with your daughter.
“daddy wants to ask you something.” her doe blue eyes twinkled in the setting sun, and you whipped your head around to look at lando.
lando, who was down on one knee, balancing his son in one hand and the biggest fucking diamond ring you’d ever seen in the other.
“should’ve done this about four years ago, but we were busy popping out kids.” lando breathed, his eyes watery. you were already in tears. “my love, where do i even begin? i’m nothing without you, and every time i leave you, i leave my entire heart behind, so please, will you marry me?”
tears streamed down your face, and lando sat the squirmy toddler down next to his sister, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet.
you surged forward, the force of your movement leaving you both in the sand. you clung to him, lips meeting his with sweet urgency. you mumbled a million yes’s into the kiss, no one left in the world but you and him, and your two beautiful children.
and when you pulled away, you scooped your babies into your arms, holding them tight, knowing that you were in the presence of the purest form of love.
your little family, complete…
…for now.
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youruser: family day out 🥹🫠❤️‍🔥
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i don’t know how to write fluff lol
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taglist
some tags have been removed if they weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from my list <3
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oofthwoods · 3 months
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DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k
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NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.
Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?
She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).
In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.
She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.
The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.
"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.
"It's alright, Lewis-"
"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."
"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"
"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.
"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."
Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.
"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.
"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.
"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"
The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."
She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."
Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."
The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.
The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.
“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.
"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"
The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.
"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."
Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.
"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"
"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."
The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.
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The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.
"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.
The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"
"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.
Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.
"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.
"I already have one."
"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.
"Yes. WWJD."
"What does that stand for?"
"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."
The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.
Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.
"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.
She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."
Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.
Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."
The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.
"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.
"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."
A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."
A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."
With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.
She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.
"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.
"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.
The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.
The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.
As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.
"Copy." She smirked.
The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.
As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.
She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.
The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.
"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."
"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.
"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."
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The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.
Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.
This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.
Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.
Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.
"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.
"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"
The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."
As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.
Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.
"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.
But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.
Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.
"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.
"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."
He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.
Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.
"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."
A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.
"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.
"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."
"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.
She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."
"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.
Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"
"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."
He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”
Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”
The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.
She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.
"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.
The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.
"Stay safe, Nando"
"You too. Give us hell"
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"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.
"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."
"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.
As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.
"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.
The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.
The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.
She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.
"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."
She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.
"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.
Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?
After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.
In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.
Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."
The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.
"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"
The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.
She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”
She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.
He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.
"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."
A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.
"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."
"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.
"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.
The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.
She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.
Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.
Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.
She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"
He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.
Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.
Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.
Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."
She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.
As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.
But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)
Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.
He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"
A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.
"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."
She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."
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taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff
2K notes · View notes
arkhammaid · 3 months
Text
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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | SERIES MASTERLIST
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fandom. formula one & mcu
about. the first daughter of the stark family drives for their brand new team in formula one
pairing. none yet, all platonic (can be changed in the future)
content warnings. written in 3rd person, fem!reader, written and smau chapters, not edited/proofread
notes. welcome, welcome! i've seen so many reader!driver stories here so i decided to contribute :) as for now, i have no final destination with this story, but i do have some ideas i definitely want in. pls feel free to share your own ideas!!
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ABOUT THE STARK RACING F1 TEAM.
the family. the team. the public opinion. the grid's reaction.
ABOUT THE PAST.
before the family. before formula one.
ABOUT THE PRESENT.
the 2025 season.
-> the livery launch. the strategy call. the pre-season testing. the wait for first race. the training. the interview.
the 2026 season.
ABOUT THE FUTURE.
ABOUT THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSES.
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taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles , @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora , @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90
crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!
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ARKHAM MAID 2024
783 notes · View notes
sebscore · 1 year
Note
gen z!reader is this sweet, bubbly, bright ray of sunshine who could honestly do no wrong, so I'd love to see a fic where in a driver's meeting gen z!reader loses their shit and calls out the FIA for their blatant sexism and misogyny in front of everyone and everyone is shocked cause they've never seen them gets this mad before.
NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (+ cameos from brundle, susie and buxton) 
warnings: sexism. fia is fia'ing. swearing. my own unaccurate ruling of penalties (it's for the sake of the story, just go along with it). susie mothering. it wasn't sure to me who conducted the driver's briefing during this time so I just picked a random name from the many that I came across. 
author's note: less comedic one this time, hope you enjoy it anyway! 
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Alright, thanks for clarifying, Checo.'' Derek concluded, glancing down at his journal to see what the next topic of discussion was. 
The director scratched his voice before addressing the drivers again. ''Uhm, we also wanted to remind everyone to be wary of what they say in the media regarding our organization,'' he stated, ''the FIA has the feeling that there have been deliberate attacks on them the last few weeks and they are willing to give out penalties if it happens again.'' 
The drivers looked at each other, confused by the sudden declaration that the FIA has been receiving ''attacks'' from the drivers. ''Can you give an example, because I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'm confused.'' George spoke up, the others nodding along to his question. 
Derek flipped through his papers, trying to find the notes his colleagues had given him regarding the ''offensive'' comments that had been made against them. 
''Oh, here,'' he put on his reading glasses, holding the piece of paper farther from his face, ''the comment they're referring to was one made by… Y/N at the previous race.'' 
The young woman's head sprung up at the mention of her name, clueless as to how she could have upset the FIA. ''What? W-what did I say?'' She managed to stutter out, all the eyes on her making her feel uneasy. 
''Uh, you were asked about the diversity in the sport and you said, and I quote: 'The FIA should do more regarding women in motorsport, there are still many things that need to be changed.' End quote.'' Derek answered her, putting his paper back in place. 
Y/N frowned at the man. ''I don't see what's wrong with that, to be honest.'' She told him, failing to see how the FIA would feel this was a ''deliberate attack''. 
The director sighed, already getting the suspicion the woman would not be happy with what he was about to say. ''Certain members of the board were offended by your words, because they saw it as you accusing them of being sexist.'' 
The silence in the room was deafening, every single person awaiting Y/N's reaction to Derek's clarification. The drivers took a glimpse at her, trying to read the indifferent expression on her face that didn't give much away about how she was feeling. 
''They think I'm accusing them of being sexist? What I meant was that they should take more actions in encouraging young girls to get into racing- I don't understand how that would correlate to me calling them sexist.'' Her usual cheerful tone was replaced by a monotone voice that almost scared some of her colleagues. 
Derek took a deep breath again. ''Well, they felt like you were insinuating it and they are offended by the alleged insinuation.'' 
''Just because they are offended doesn't mean they're right.'' She bit back, not missing a beat. 
''I'm simply delivering their message, Y/N,'' the director told her politely, wanting to remind her that he's not the person she should be upset with, ''anyway- if you go up there and apologize for your comment, they're considering leaving it as a warning for you and also the others.'' He finished the list of notes they had given him. 
The reaction from the room wasn't one he was expecting; absolute outrage. 
''She shouldn't apologize for that neither should she be penalized for it.'' Sebastian was the first one to speak up, directly looking Derek in the eye. 
The drivers agreed. ''Yeah, it's called freedom of speech.'' Max added, also not seeing why Y/N should go down there and say sorry to the members of the board. 
''Like I said earlier, I'm simply delivering their message.'' Derek repeated himself, feeling the tension and frustration growing in the small space. 
''But don't you see how ridiculous this is?'' Sebastian rebutted, hoping the man at the front could at least agree with them and say that it was indeed a weird request. 
Derek shook his head. ''I'm just the middle man, Seb,'' he sighed, turning his head towards the quiet female driver, ''Y/N, make it easier for yourself and go up there after the meeting, you don't want to receive a penalty for something like this.'' 
''I'm not apologizing.'' Her voice comes out strong, not in an aggressive way, but in a manner that lets everyone know she's not backing down. ''Give me as many penalties as you want, I'm not accepting them.'' She crossed her arms, indicating she was sticking to her words, almost stubbornly. 
The other drivers looked on proudly, glad she was standing by her belief and didn't give in simply because it would make everything ''easier''. Lewis gave her a nod, subtly letting her know he supported her and had her back. 
''Alright, then that will result in a fine of a number that is yet to be determined.'' Derek picked up his pen and wrote down that she would not come by their office, already knowing his colleagues wouldn't be happy with it. 
''Just so you know- I'm not paying that.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 
Derek looked up from his journal. ''If you refuse to pay the fine, we can either add a grid-place penalty or a time penalty.'' He recited the rule as if he had done it a million times before. 
''Derek, this is stupid,'' Kimi decided to voice his opinion, ''the race shouldn't be affected, because of a comment she made that had nothing to do with racing in the first place.'' He defended her, allying behind her stance to not accept any of the penalties they give her. 
''I'm just doing my job, Kimi.'' 
''I also want to just do my job, Derek, which is racing, but these ridiculous rules to silence me prevent me from doing that.'' Y/N argued his response, just wanting him to see her point of view. 
The director's hand went over his face, seemingly wiping his agitation away. ''No one is trying to silence you, Y/N.'' He quickly answered. 
''That's why all the other drivers receive penalties whenever they question the FIA, right?'' Her comment must have shut him up as he solely put his pen down without saying another word about the matter. ''Yeah, that's what I thought.'' 
Y/N felt her presence wasn't longer necessary as she stood up from her chair, ready to leave the room and join her engineering team in preparation for the upcoming race. However, Derek felt different about that. ''The briefing isn't over yet, Y/L. Sit back down, please.'' 
''I'll see you at the next meeting, Derek.'' She ignored his plea and walked towards the door. 
The director stood up from his desk at the front. ''Y/N, if you leave before it's done, the board will-'' 
''The board can kiss my ass.'' 
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''Y/N Y/L RECEIVES A 20-PLACE GRID PENALTY AHEAD OF THE 2021 SPANISH GRAND PRIX DUE TO DAMAGING REMARKS AGAINST THE FIA'' 
''FIA RE-EVALUATING Y/N Y/N's PENALTY AFTER BACKLASH'' 
''FIA SUSPENDS GRID PENALTY OF Y/N Y/L DUE TO AN ERROR'' 
The day after the driver's briefing had been quite eventful to say the least. As soon as the FIA announced that she had been given a penalty, the backlash from drivers, fans and reporters started. 
Lewis had condemned their decision claiming it was based on nothing and that nothing about her comment was an attack on the organization. His teammate, Valtteri, followed him in his opinion stating: ''Drivers should be able to say what they want to say, she doesn't deserve a penalty for that.'' 
Sky Sports F1 reporter, Martin Brundle, also came to the driver's defense. ''If we're going to punish drivers for stating their opinions, we might as well get rid of the entire sport, especially if what they're saying isn't far from the truth.'' 
After finishing P5 in the race, Y/N spoke to Will Buxton in her post-race interview. ''You must be very happy with your result today, considering you almost had to start from the very back of the grid.'' 
''I'm content with today's race, obviously would have loved a podium but Mercedes was better today,'' she chuckled, ''yeah, it wasn't fun waking up to that news, but I'm happy that it was reversed and the support I received was just- wow, I'm very grateful for everyone.'' 
''According to some sources, it got pretty heated in the driver's briefing on friday- would you like to clarify?'' Will asked her. 
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. ''I would just like to forget about it, moving on is the best thing to do right now.'' She smoothly avoided the question, figuring she shouldn't make the FIA more mad by airing out all their business. 
''Alright, thank you so much for talking to us, Y/N and congratulations on your race today.'' He nodded, bidding her goodbye. 
On her way back to her team's hospitality, she was stopped by none other than Susie Wolff. ''Lewis told us what happened during the briefing- I'm very proud of you for standing up for yourself, not everyone could have done that.'' 
''It was so awful, Susie,'' Y/N hugged the older woman, ''it's like they just wanted to give me some sort of punishment- I don't even want to know what would have happened if I went down there by myself.'' Susie rubs her back at her words, also not wanting to think about what could have gone down. 
''It's okay now, honey,'' they pulled apart, Susie's hand staying on her shoulder, ''by the way- did you really say that the board could kiss your ass?'' 
Y/N laughed at her question, excitedly nodding her head. ''At first I wanted to say something like 'the board can stick that penalty right up their ass’ but I needed a cool getaway so I opted for something shorter.'' 
''Atta girl'' 
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taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @formulazeesworld @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123-blog @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis 
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deltaromeo3 · 10 months
Text
ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ ⋆ Lando Norris
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: I NEED A TOUCH DEPRIVED LANDO PLEASEEE like he’s just really clingy and always NEEDS to be touching reader and it’s just really cute (also please femreader) AND MAYBE YOU CAN ADD THAT THEY HAVE CATS!!
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You were seated in the study, where the racing sim and gaming computer were. Of course, these weren’t yours; they belonged to your boyfriend, Lando Norris, who happened to be away.
Lando didn’t mind you using his stuff, in fact he was happy to let use them at your own will. You were wasting your time by playing Valorant with your friends, not even realising Lando was laying on the sofa nearby, looking intently at you with Luna (your cat) laying by his side.
You jumped, getting the shock of your life when you saw Lando when you got up to refill your tumbler.
“Shit! You scared me Lan!” He laughs at your reaction as you placed a hand on your chest, calming yourself down.
He shuffles forward, arms opening, immediately pulling you into a hug.
“Mmm, I missed you,” He hugs you tight.
“I missed you too,” You tried to pull away but the grip only tightens.
“Babe you’re hugging me so tight I can’t breathe,” Your voice muffled into his chest.
He groans, “I need this. I missed my babygirl.” He prolongs the hug but lets you go shortly after.
“I’m gonna take a shower, join me?” He asks and you shake your head, declining the offer as you had already taken one an hour ago.
He pouts, “Okay,” walking off to grab a fresh towel whilst looking down, still sulking.
“Luna, mummy doesn’t love me anymore,” Lando says to your cat.
You laughed at his reaction as you trailed behind him, making your way to the kitchen.
After refilling your tumbler, you went to his suitcase, unpacking it and proceeded to wash his dirty clothes. You even placed his shoes back onto his shoe rack and wheeled his suitcase back into the closet.
You made your way back to the kitchen, and started cooking Lando his favourite go to meal, a white sauce chicken pasta with a side of lettuce.
“Babe! Have you seen my suitcase? I swear I left it here,” Lando points to the spot where he left the suitcase.
You laughed, “I unpacked it for you. Figured you were tired enough,”
You were busy mixing the ingredients in when you felt a warm pair of hands wrap around your torso and a head on the crook of your neck. You smiled, knowing it was Lando.
“Thank you. You’re the best,” He says as he kisses your cheek.
You thought he would let go after that, but he didn’t.
“You’re clingy tonight,” You said as you continued cooking.
“Like I said, i missed my girl,”
You blushed, “I missed you too Lando,”
Luna meows when Lando says that.
Lando laughs, “I didn’t forget you Luna!” He lets you go, crouching down to pet Luna.
It remained this way for a good while. And even when you went to the sink to wash your hands, he remained attached to you.
“Lan,” You call out.
He hums in response.
“Can you grab the plates for me? I can’t reach them cause I’ve suddenly got a koala on my back,” You teased.
He chuckles but helps you with the plates.
You plate the food along with Luna’s with him still hugging you.
“Why don’t you go ahead and sit?”
“You’re eating too, right?” He asks.
You let out a soft laugh, “Of course I am silly,”
He smiles, giving you a peck before letting go hesitantly to take a seat on the island.
You pass him a plate of his food the both of you dig in with Luna seated by his side.
He moans as soon as he takes a spoonful into his mouth. “Have I ever told you how much I love your cooking? It’s so good babe,”
“Thank you, and yes, you have.”
He smiles. “Just making sure you knew,”
★ ★ ★
The two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, when suddenly Luna makes her way up to Lando.
“You missed Daddy huh?” He says to Luna as he pets her amd she meows in response. “Yeah I know you do,”
You paused the show as you needed to go to the bathroom.
You pull away from Lando, earning a string of upset noises, “Where you off to?”
“I need to pee,”
“Okay, I’ll come with,”
“What?”
“Cmon, lets go pee,”
You laughed in disbelief but went to the bathroom to relief yourself. As you were doing so, Lando stood outside, holding your hand. You let go for a minute to wash it.
Once done, the both of you went back to where you left off.
You decided to head to bed when you realised your cat was now in her pillow, asleep, and your boyfriend had dozed off, cuddled into you.
And yes, you could’ve definitely finished the season off on your own but you knew how much Lando enjoyed watching it with you so you switched the TV off and woke him up gently so that the both of you could go to bed.
“Lan,” You said, tapping him gently.
He hums in response.
“Lan, let’s go to bed yeah?” You said, tapping him gently again. He nods in response, slowly sitting up and walking to the room.
You tucked him in then yourself in. As soon as you made contact with the bed, Lando opens his arms, signalling that he wants cuddles. You let out a soft chuckle but shuffle your way to him. Luna wasn’t far behind, finding a spot on the bed beside you.
He embraces and kisses you, quickly falling asleep after that.
You were still awake so you drew patterns on his chest, but after only a few minutes your eyeslids felt heavy and soon, you joined him.
3K notes · View notes
lorarri · 17 days
Text
★ . . . 🇯🇵 𝐁𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 , 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
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summary , winter break in full swing and lewis takes a trip to the land of the rising sun and leaves with the heart of there darling princess
pairing , lewis hamilton x fem! royalty! reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | f1 grid masterlist
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lewishamilton
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liked by yourinstagram charles_leclerc 87,380,489 others
lewishamilton cold in japan but they keep me warm 💞
view comments
user ummm sir who is this 'they' you are speaking of
user calm down guys he's talking about me
user THEY???? THEYYYY???
user okay but the caption
user hellp police my husband has been stolen from me
user sir is this a soft launch orrrrr
user the fact that lewis is already trending on twitter
user twitter detectives do you thing
user okay so while you guys are freaking about lewis's possible soft launch has everybody just failed to notice how the crowned princess of japan is in his likes and also FOLLOWS him
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yourinstagram . 18hrs ago
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seen by lewishamilton charles_leclerc 88,279,379 others
lewishamilton replied to your story!
hope you enjoyed the race
I did it was so much fun
congrats on the p1 btw
and good luck on the title charge
if anyone can beat redbull it's you
thank you so much princess
I'll make sure to win this championship for you
but till then how about we get dinner together?
I thought you would never ask
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lewishamilton
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liked by charles_leclerc landonorris 198,379,450 others
lewishamilton this one was for my princess
comments have been disabled
yourinstagram . 10min ago
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seen by maxverstappen1 landonorris 76,379,254 others
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─ requested by . . .
anon ─ request for japan where reader is a princess from the royal family? faceclaim maybe chisa from xg
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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the orange peel theory * fem!driver
how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?
pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes
guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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-> max verstappen, #1
would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand
max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely
he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”
and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing
when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol
-> logan sargeant, #2
he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand
he doesn’t even need to be told
he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those
totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever
everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight
-> daniel ricciardo, #3
he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day
he feels all cool with all the cameras
suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile
“peel this for me please?”
he does it without question
he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her
-> lando norris, #4
literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange
she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim
also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges
or oranges, for that matter
she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her
-> pierre gasly, #10
he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade
looking pretty cool in his cool fits
an orange is presented to him without question
he grins at her and thanks her for the orange
walks away and eats the orange himself
-> sergio perez, #11
would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange
would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her
excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick
would take one piece of the orange for himself
claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself
-> fernando alonso, #14
takes the orange without her saying anything
he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics
literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange
eats the orange without her saying anything
she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question
-> charles lerclerc, #16
is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too
still peels it for her though
even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos
asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange
-> lance stroll, #18
he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business
they don’t interact often because she scares him
is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no
mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away
which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely
because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange
-> kevin magnussen, #20
asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl
she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura
so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies
outrageous, if u ask him
-> nyck de vries, #21
has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory
she thinks about him often though
they're texting buddies actually
-> yuki tsunoda, #22
literally came prepared
he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit
she gives him the whole orange
she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy
-> alex albon, #23
was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend
says no immediately
but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her
peels it and takes more than half of the share
-> zhou guanyu, #24
is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often
is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her
peels it anyway
asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment
-> niko hulkenberg, #27
she literally cannot find him
doesn't get to participate in the trend
she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel
and on the grid in his race car
-> esteban ocon, #31
absolutely ADORES her
peels it without question
peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him
she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back
-> lewis hamilton, #44
this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel
but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel
he's just so tired of the panel interviews
giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange
-> carlos sainz, #55
peels it for her without question
the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out
also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend
inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps
-> george russell, #63
is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange
he heard from alex what she's been doing
he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok
she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well
-> valtteri bottas, #77
is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing
peels the orange for her anyway
asks if oranges are her favourite fruit
suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache
-> oscar piastri, #81
if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him
but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no
he will peel the orange reluctantly
takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing
— bonus
-> liam lawson, #30
asks her to fuck off
only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself
asks her if he can have one from her orange stash
she says no in tears because he cussed at her
shrugs and walks away
-> sebastian vettel, #5
this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying
has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying
eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap
she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them
eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @sadg3
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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months
Text
Early Risers vs. Night Owls
(A/N): Special thank yous to @foreveralbon and @disneyprincemuke for helping me choose which drivers are morning people and which are more of night owls.
Summary: Some people are night owls, others are morning people. But there is another sort that some drivers learn to fear: Morning Monsters (it's the reader)
Pairings: (All platonic) daniel ricciardo x driver!reader, charles leclerc x driver!reader, carlos sainz x driver!reader, oscar piastry x driver!reader (max and lando get a guest starring)
Word count: 1.2k
🏎Masterlist🏎
________________________
It’s difficult, being a night person in a day people’s world. It really is. Especially when you are around morning loving human beings.
“Oh, don’t you look happy?” Carlos comments, when (Y/N) steps into the breakfast room. Coincidentally, several teams are accommodated in the same hotel during this race weekend.
As she lets herself fall in a seat at his table, the young female whispers an annoyed “Don’t”. “I wasn’t saying anything mean?” He genuinely questions. Is his English failing him again?
“Please, just stop talking. It’s only the ass crack of dawn, how can someone be so chatty?” (Y/N) puts her head onto the table, effectively stopping any further conversation with the Spaniard. He looks a little bit lost into his fruit bowl, not sure how to handle this situation adequately. 
“Top of the morning, my sunshines,” a smiling Daniel Ricciardo strolls into the room. The happiness radiating from him reaches (Y/N) even through her closed eyes.
Just as Daniel arrives at their table, she gets up with the most sluggish motions a sober person can muster. “Coffee” is the only thing mumbled, answering to the confused looks around her.
Shortly after, she sits down again with a cup in her hands, not even bothering to try to follow the chatting between Daniel and Carlos. (Y/N) just stares into space, wondering where she went wrong in her life to have to sit in between two morning people. Surely, this is a punishment of some kind.
“Ok, what is up with you? You look like you are about to murder everyone in this room if someone just dares to breathe in the wrong direction,” Daniel observes. (Y/N) takes another sip from her coffee. “Because it’s true.”
Carlos can’t wrap his head around it. “But what happened to the sunshine-in-person-(Y/N)?” “How am I supposed to be a sunshine, when I’m barely a person at this moment?” Well, that is not a lie. She does look pretty rough. Not everyone can wake up and look perfect like Florence Pugh. Some people have to look more like Merida herself in the mornings.
“Why are you talking to this woman during the early hours?” Charles, who just entered the breakfast hall, fears for their lives. “Because this is what people do? They talk when they sit together?” Daniel is confused. What is so bad about making conversations?
Charles steps closer to their table and (Y/N) immediately latches onto him, burying her face into his stomach.
“Don’t you value your life? A tired (Y/N) in the morning needs quiet and some hugs.” The young woman mumbles something, making the Monegasque laugh. “Yes, and coffee. This is the recipe to get the sunshine person you know and love.”
Confused, the other two drivers blink. Did they miss the manual that came with the rookie?
“And you know all of this, because?” Carlos asks the question that popped up in both their heads. “Because (Y/N) and Arthur were together in F2 and he had been ‘chewed out by her like a pack of gum by a class of elementary schoolers’, his words, not mine. She is not all bark and no bite, isn’t that right?” (Y/N) nods, her head still buried into his front.
“Do you want to catch a ride to the paddock with me? I plan on leaving in five minutes.” (Y/N) nods again and quickly gathers her things before waving the other drivers goodbye.
The ride is filled with silence, Charles even leaves the radio turned off. This lets the female drive in and out of a state of half-asleep until they arrive at their destination. At the same time a certain papaya wearing aussie his own car not far away from Charles’ Ferrari.
“Oh, is it still too early?” He asks her with a small smile. Just like Arthur, Oscar is aware how much of a night owl (Y/N) is, having witnessed her outbursts first hand several times during his own career in F2.
The driver nods as she throws herself into his embrace. A tired (Y/N) turns into the most cuddly person. “Let’s get you a cup of coffee, can’t have you go around screaming at people. You will scare everyone off.”
Oscar is pretty much the only smiling person she tolerates in the morning. Whenever another human being dares just grinning in her direction during her own waking up phase, she is ready to jump their throats. But Oscar is different. He doesn't do it out of mocking or pitiness. He is genuinely happy and wants to show and share it. Also, he radiates a nice calm aura, which is the complete opposite to what she experiences during the days of a race weekend.
When Carlos passes (Y/N) by later, he walks up to her with caution, keeping his teammates' warning in mind, “Hey Carlos, have you heard the rumors about the newest Taylor Swift album? Do you think it will feature a song about Nando?”
The woman in front of him has nothing in common with the one he interacted with just an hour ago. She somehow even looks completely different from her. It’s the kind of freshness that doesn’t come with a shower.
“Uhm, no I did not. Are you ok? You seemed… a bit out of it this morning.” There is a hesitation in his voice, not wanting to accidentally offset her.
But (Y/N) just laughs it off. “Oh yeah, that. I’m sorry for being a grump back there. Just like Charlie said, I’m absolutely not a morning person. During the first hour of being awake I’m an absolute monster. Just, don’t talk to me or only when it’s absolutely necessary during that time. I apologize for my behavior, it wasn’t nice. Today was particularly bad, because I do my best work at night and I have been pouring over some data until 2 am. I’ll try to give you a warning next time!”
With that she is off, looking for her partner in crime aka her teammate to start some kind of mischief with the social media team.
Carlos is just flabbergasted. The duality of some people and how a small cup of caffeine can bring that out of them is astonishing.
Just remember to never fuck with night owls during the early hours of the morning.
Bonus Scene
During a free week some drivers set a date to play a private paddle tournament together in Monaco. Daniel enters the court with a big smile. After all, it is a fresh, sunny morning. This day is a promise of having a good time with his friends and colleagues, playing their favorite game and having lunch plans together.
What sets the Australian off are the three frowning faces, sitting on a bench nursing each a can of Red Bull solemnly. “What happened to you?”
Max answers his question first with a grumpy voice. “I had to leave my cats cuddled up in my bed alone.” “My alarm woke me up while the first number on the clock was still a single digit.” Landoo sounds about as tired as (Y/N) next to him looks like.
“Life”, Daniel answers for the young woman already, who just nods and pulls the strings of her hood closed, hindering someone else to make more conversations with her until the caffeine has kicked in.
Desperate times call for desperate measures after all.
598 notes · View notes
angldelight · 5 months
Text
margaret | max verstappen x fem!merc!driver x lewis hamilton.
the youngest on the grid. the biggest dreams of them all. how sad it was, watching it end.
bad crash. life changing injuries. romance between reader, max & lewis. use of y/n! age gap
“—and oh no! there is the mercedes of l/n!” to say your car was in pieces would be a lie. it was a wreck, and it was a miracle that you could even get out of it unfazed.
you stand, hands held onto the marshall’s as you wobbled around, tears streaming down your face as you gripped your helmet in your hands.
your car would have to be scrapped, it was almost unfathomable how it had happened, another driver clipped your back right tire, the driver behind you hadn’t seen that, ramming into the back of you.
immediately you were brought to an ambulance, limping like a fawn.
the sun burned. much more harsher that day.
‘I never thought id see this happen.. I never thought id have to make this. but it is with due sadness that I come out and say, I will be retiring from formula one with immediate decision.’ your voice was calm, but your hands shook.
lewis hamilton stared before you like you were a ghost coming back to haunt him.
he sat on his couch in his home, roscoe cuddled into his side as he watched the video. again and again. his shoulders slumped with defeat, a deafening sadness, a high pitch noise was all he seemed to hear.
max verstappen’s grip on his phone was so hard he could hear his assistant shudder. he, and his assistant, sat in his office. max leaned on his shoulders, watching your face, your pretty eyes.
his world crumbled, you were his greatest rival, and most definitely the love of his life.
the crash was bad, everybody knew that. but to see you crumble beneath the truth of it all— the accident had not only made life harder, but had ruined your dreams, was like witnessing a supernova.
his heart lays heavy underneath his rib cage as his eyes gather with tears.
the relationship between max and lewis was something no poet could ever fathom into words. you graced their lives, locked their hands and hearts with your own. you cradled them like lambs and loved them like flowers.
they knew they were lucky— though jealous of having to share you. they were so lucky to be loved by you.
cards of sympathy and flowers stood by your home, fans placing their own by your gates. get well soon! written in ugly fonts.
theirs was the ones you cradled like children, and loved like a constellation.
‘i—it has been an honour to have the privilege of meeting my bestest of friends, my greatest supporters and to share a track with these people is something i will keep with me for the rest of my life.’ they want to beg you to stop talking.
‘but.. when you know, you know.’
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velvetsainz · 5 months
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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is in maranello but that doesn't mean he can't help. part one.
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), porn with a dash of plot, use of explicit language, phone/skype sex, masturbation, toys, overstimulation, praise kink, google-translated french (kay strikes again), fluff, i still really like em dashes
a/n: part twooooooooo! (you can totally read this before part i—this is just a sister smutlet ;) ) i've been really pleased with the response to part i, so i was super duper motivated to get this cranked out for you guys. there's mentions to previous encounters, and i'm very tempted to flesh those out in the future along with the allusions to future events. anyways, eat up! enjoy, loves! xx
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You could be a tease, but Charles Leclerc was a bigger one.  
“Charles, I swear to God that—”
“That what, chérie? Hm?,” he asked as he quirked an eyebrow to you, waiting for you to answer as he watched over the Skype call.  You let out a frustrated sigh, sinking back into the bed and allowing your thighs to relax once more.
“So impatient, mon ange…,” he chided, hand working slowly, lazily over his length.  You were on the doorstep of your climax when he’d suddenly cut the power to the delicious little bullet in your hand.  He’d been teasing you for a solid thirty minutes now, listening to soft moans and needy whines as he built you up before allowing your orgasm to recede away once more.
You scoffed, brow furrowing and lid heavy with need.  “Well yes, but-but–,” you stammered as you tried to think of some good reason why you just needed to come.  You couldn’t—no reason that would be particularly compelling when he was like this.
As much as you enjoyed your games with your fiancé, your thighs were beginning to cramp and you swore you were going to have to change the sheets now, too.
You’d gotten on your usual Wednesday night call, mood worse than usual.  It’d been a long day and you were just ready to put it all behind you, bury yourself in the fluffy duvet of your shared bed, and scroll TikTok aimlessly for a few hours to allow yourself the time to rot in peace.
Charles, on the other hand, had other ideas.  If he’d been there, he’d have happily buried his head between your legs until you couldn’t put together a coherent thought and the tension had melted from your shoulders and jaw.  Seeing as he was in Maranello, though, he had to find another way to get you in a better headspace.
Enter: the vibrator.
Well, a remote-controlled bullet.  One that he could control with an app on his phone, the bastard. Some men found toys in the bedroom to be a competitor, but the Monégasque saw them as an accomplice of sorts; they were friends, not enemies.
In the moment, though, the little fucker sure as hell seemed like an enemy to you.
“Please, baby,” you whined for him, pouting with glossy eyes to the camera, “you already know it’s been a long day.”
Charles hummed, taking pity on you as he turned the vibe on once more to a low-power setting. You took a stunted breath, eyes closing as pleasure rolled through you once again.  The sound went straight to his cock, angry red in his hand as precum leaked over the vice grip he held it in.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you whimpered fervently as the toy kicked up another speed, sending you careening towards your climax.
“I wish I could be there, chérie,” he coaxed as he watched you start panting once again, breaths coming in stuttering bursts with whines trapped in the back of your throat. “J'adore entendre tous ces jolis sons, ma jolie,” Charles purred, pulling a particularly pitiful moan from you. He laughed as he ticked the power up another notch, “Oui—juste comme ça, chérie.”
You could feel your orgasm coming at you hot and fast, mouth falling open as your hips dug into the soft material of the mattress.  A tear spilled from the corner of your eye at the sheer sting of need coming into full view, one of your hands planting hard into the bed beside you as your eyes rolled back in reflex.
“Charles, please, I-I-I—”
“C’est bon, minette,” he soothed, his own desire starting to rear its head, “Let go—let it all go for me, mm?” He set the devilish little toy onto full blast, and you didn’t wait for him to rethink his offer.
You babbled half-coherently as something melted in the pit of your belly, washing over your senses until your ears rang and your legs buzzed.  You could feel your sweat pooling in the small of your back as loose strands of hair stuck to your forehead and neck from the matching sheen that covered them, and your partner had turned the bullet to its lowest power setting to nurse you through the aftershocks that rocked your hips.  You were well and truly dripping at this point, a small wet spot forming under you on the white sheets. You really should have put down a towel before you got yourself into this mess.
But with no warning, as you basked in the afterglow of a much-needed orgasm, the toy went into full power once more.  Your eyes shot open and hips jolted away from the sensation as you looked to the screen after a moment of realization.  “Baby, no, I–t-too sensiti—,” you started to whimper to Charles as you heard the sounds of his own pleasure growing more prominent.
“Yes, mon ange,” he said firmly, hazel eyes dark with pleasure, “Just one more—I know you can.”  He watches as your brow furrows once more and your hand disappears between your legs once again.  Never did he ever think he could be so jealous of a fucking hand.
You mewled as you fought the stuttering of your hips each time you pressed the toy to your already-aching clit.  Still, in no time you were there once again, and Charles cursed and muttered under his breath as he watched the show you put on for him.
“Merde—”
“Such a good girl, yes—”
“Going to fuck you so good—”
“Fuck…fuck—”
He grunted your name once more and came with a growl, jaw slack as he spilled over the fist that held him so tightly. Meanwhile, you were coming down with glazed eyes and parted lips, breathing hard as you let out a quiet “fuck.”
“Oui,” Charles agreed teasingly as his head dropped back behind him lazily.
Toy discarded onto the bed next to you, you rolled onto your side to face him on the video call. “Why do you have to work so far away sometimes?,” you grumbled rhetorically, pouting as your body pooled in one of his old t-shirts and your breathing started to match something more normal.  Your body had lost the tension it had been carrying, those dual orgasms working to relieve the stress you’d felt when you’d started the call.  Still, a toy was a poor replacement for the man on the other side of the call, and you wanted him there with you more than you’d wanted that first orgasm.  You hated making him feel bad about being away, but damn did you need to be fucked within an inch of your life right about now.
He tsked softly, lifting his head once more to see your pout.  “I know, mon cœur,” he nodded, adjusting the lid of his laptop to angle more towards his face, “but if I didn’t come to Maranello, I wouldn’t get anything done. We’d be like bunny rabbits—like Corsica.”
Memories of that trip came back, causing your tummy to flip at thought.  You really had fucked like rabbits on that trip, and no surface was safe from the fury of your shared lust. Nothing was sacred and anywhere that had just enough privacy was good enough for one to start tormenting the other with their fingers…their lips…their—
“I don’t see why that’s a problem,” you teased back, smile finding your lips once more as you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.  One elbow helped prop your head up while the other hand rested between the soft skin of your thighs.
“My sunburn disagreed,” Charles chuckled as you found yourself laughing with him.  “I looked like a…a—what’s the word? Homard?”
“Lobster?,” you chimed in with a smirk as you remembered just how red he’d been. You swore you‘d slather a metric shit ton of aloe on him during that holiday. The way he’d keep you warm in the cold showers, though…
“Yes, a lobster,” he sighed, dropping his head into his hands at the thought.  “Chérie, it hurt so bad—and Carlos wouldn’t wouldn’t stop laughing at me in the paddock in Spa!”
“But you would taste wonderful dipped in butter!”
“You are an idiot, chérie.”
“And knowing that, you still wanted me to be your wife.  So who’s the bigger idiot in this equation, baby?”
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sunrizef1 · 17 days
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What happens in Vegas pt 8
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader ex!max verstappen x reader
Warnings: more cursing than usual
A/N: I’m fast asf boi (not really, this did take a while)
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oofthwoods · 2 months
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CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k
⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→
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2021
In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.
Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.
Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.
Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.
You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.
As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.
You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.
As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.
Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.
Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.
As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.
"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."
Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."
A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.
"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.
Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.
"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."
As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.
A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.
"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 
As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.
With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.
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2023
You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.
In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.
Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.
"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.
At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.
"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.
As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.
But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.
It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.
When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.
And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.
"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"
In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."
James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.
"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.
"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.
As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.
In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.
As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.
“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.
"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."
"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.
"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."
"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.
"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.
"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.
"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."
James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."
"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.
With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"
"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.
Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"
You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."
Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.
You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.
"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."
A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.
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"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.
The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"
Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.
As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.
"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."
Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.
In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.
As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.
The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.
Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.
With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.
And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.
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taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot
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