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abundanceofsoph ¡ 9 days
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Revelations
pairing: Daniel x reader
summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr
request are open pookie masterlist
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Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.
You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.
“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.
“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.
“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.
“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.
“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.
“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.
Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?
I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.
Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend
Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.
Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.
Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.
“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.
“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.
“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.
“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.
“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.
Last car in, good luck Daniel
I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race
Ok, Daniel, whatever you say
The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.
“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.
Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.
Does this mean I’m off the couch?
Focus.
Sorry.
And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.
LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.
Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.
Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.
“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.
“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.
“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.
“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.
“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.
“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.
“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.
“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.
“THE KIDS?!”
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 11 days
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only aussies are going to understand this reference and how funny it is 🤣🤣🤣
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 17 days
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HE HADN'T DRIVEN A DRY SUZUKA SINCE PRE COVID AND HE HAD ONE PRACTICE SESSION BEFORE QUALI I WILL TAKE P11 SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU BABY
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 17 days
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chapter one: mismatched sneakers
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Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader 
Warnings: mentions of absent parents, single parents, hints to postpartum depression, little bit of sadness and vulnerability, liv and milly have their parents wrapped around their fingers, soft dad seb, seb doesn’t boast about his career enough according to reader, reader starts to develop a little crush on mr seb. 
Word Count: 2.7k
Author’s Note: literally based off my tags on this and @estevries screaming at me to write it in our DMs lmaoooo, enjoy papa seb <33 // also for the purpose of this, he and queen hanna weren’t together, his daughter is from a different relationship :) 
sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist
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Olivia goes running towards the front door, “slow down!” You shout to your daughter, grabbing your own bag from the car before joining her. You let her in, the little girl dropping her bag by the door to sit on the bench and kick off her shoes. 
“Liv,” you huffed, noticing her mismatched sneakers. “Do I need to ask why you have two different shoes on?” 
Your daughter looked over at you, a mischievous smile on her face. “I do?” She asks, glancing down at her feet. You roll your eyes, not being able to hide the giggle. 
“You’re trouble,” you tell her, helping her take off the shoes and give her another pair. “Let’s go,” you nod towards the opened door, watching as she put her slippers on and ran back outside. 
Olivia, your daughter, had been asking you for a playdate with her best friend, Amelia. Milly was 6, turning 7 at the end of next week while Liv was 6, yet to turn 7 because her birthday was late in the year; October opposed to Milly’s May birthday. Amelia lived with her grandparents on her father’s side. Her dad worked with cars and traveled for his job from your understanding. 
Amelia’s grandmother didn’t go into too many details but you knew he came home for a few days at a time to see her, it’s just that you’ve yet to meet him. 
You glanced at your daughter in the rearview mirror as you turned in the other street; they lived 5 minutes away and you knew the route blindfolded. Amelia and Olivia had been attached at the hip since their first day of junior kindergarten. 
The curb in front of their house was empty, and a car you’ve never seen before was parked in the driveway. Olivia held your hand as you two walked up to the door, and you let her knock. 
Heike, Amelia’s grandmother, was who you were expecting to open the door, not a man who looked like Amelia’s twin; messy blonde curls, bright blue eyes and a smile to match hers. 
The man had one hand on the door, leaning on it slightly as he looked at the two of you, smiling at the little girl beside you. “Can I help you?” 
Keep reading
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 18 days
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I’m going to be obsessing over this for days
”Daniel's out of the car Max, he's all okay” ❤️
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 18 days
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still thinking about how gp said “daniel’s out of the car max” even though max asked about them both like this will feed me for the next two weeks
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 21 days
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {2}
Summary: Charles finally gets to see the person his brother was proud to call his best friend, and in doing so realises he has some amendments to make. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm WC: 2.4k
One || Two || Three
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It was foolish to think the Leclerc’s would just leave you alone. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that Arthur stopped your door from closing but you did frown when his brother followed him inside your humble abode. 
It was dim inside, with only shafts of starlight coming in from the missing tiles above. You walked blindly through the sparse furniture to the fuse box and pulled the lever down, flooding the room with flickering fluorescent light. “Not quite up to your standard?” you challenged Charles with a daring arch of your brow. 
Arthur detoured to the small alcove that was once the factory staff room kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge that whined loudly to maintain its temperature. You immediately pressed your bottle to your cheek and moaned as the cold seeped into the bruised skin. Letting the makeshift ice pack do its job, you dropped onto the couch, avoiding the wayward springs that jutted out and tried to snag your clothes, and watched Charles walk around the cavernous room.
“This place is a dump,” he stated. He inspected the bed that consisted of a mattress thrown over pallets that had been abandoned inside the factory before eying up the punching bag that hung from the open rafters. 
“If you’re only staying to insult me, just go.” The exhaustion in your voice came from deep inside your soul and even Charles paused at the sound. 
You hated how he turned his inspection on to you instead. His eyes followed the length of your legs and you tucked your knees up under the hoodie, but then he finally noticed you had been barefoot the entire night. 
“Pack your shit, let’s go.”
You closed your eyes and tipped your head onto Arthur’s shoulder. “I liked him more when he ignored me.”
“I’m not going to tell you again,” Charles growled as he swiped your beer bottle from your face. 
“Charles, have you ever been beaten unconscious?”
“No.”
“Unless you want to find out how it feels, give me my fucking beer back.” You didn’t even open your eyes to see if the threat was taken seriously but then the cold touch of the bottle in your palm was an answer enough. “Thank you.”
“You can’t stay here,” he said calmly. “Pack your things, or I can buy whatever you need in Monaco.”
“I am not marrying you.” The beer was cheap and left a bitter aftertaste but you used it to smother the hot anger that was quickly starting to bubble in your gut. “Twenty minutes ago you would have let me risk being mugged while I walked home and probably asked for popcorn too while you watched.”
The old recliner you found at a secondhand store squeaked under Charles’ weight as he took a seat and said, “I don’t like popcorn.” You cracked an eye open to see amusement gracing on his face. “I also picked you up, didn’t I?”
“Wow, pick a girl up once and expect her to marry you.” 
Arthur snorted a laugh. “I offered first.”
“Maybe you two can fight it out for my hand.” Sarcasm dripped from your lips as you tipped your head to Charles. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you land on your ass again.”
“It was a cheap shot.”
“Are you gonna let him disrespect you like that?” you asked as you nudged your friend. 
“I’m not hitting him again,” Arthur grumbled. “It really hurt.”
“Oh, so not out of concern for me, thanks little brother.”
“She did warn you to shut up but you had to keep running your mouth.” Arthur looked at his brother’s lip but it wasn’t all that swollen thankfully. “Please don’t tell ma.”
“I can do your makeup,” you offered to Charles with a smirk. “I’m actually pretty good at covering up bruises now.”
Charles' eyes turned down and he shook his head as he felt guilty for how he had treated you over the years. 
“I don’t want your fucking pity,” you snapped. “Stop looking like someone kicked your puppy.”
An awkward silence grew until you growled in the back of your throat and rose from the couch. “Tur, can you lock up when you leave?”
“Where are you going?”
You made your way to the ‘bedroom’ and pulled on a pair of riding leathers, not bothering with the jacket since you were comfortable and warm in the hoodie. “Home. I have to get ready for a charity brunch in Marseille.” 
Charles watched curiously as you unlocked a thick padlock to what he thought was just a storage locker. Those green eyes widened when you swung your leg over the seat of the sleek Honda motorbike and grabbed your helmet that hung on the handlebars. 
“You let her ride that?” 
Arthur shrugged and finished his beer. “One: I’m not her keeper. Two: she has a licence. And three: you’re an idiot if you think anyone has a say in what she does.”
“You’re her friend, you should stop her from getting herself killed.”
“I am right here,” you reminded him. “I love the vote of confidence you have in me, by the way, really endearing.”
Whatever he was about to say was silenced when you clicked the remote for the roller door, kicked the bike stand back and turned the ignition on. The roar of the engine was deafening in the space and you slapped the shade down on your helmet before shooting out of your sanctuary. 
“We have a lot to talk about,” Charles warned his brother. 
Arthur nodded as he got up and dropped his empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Yeah, I figured that. Let me just lock up real quick then we can go.”
Charles watched as Arthur walked around the room like it was a routine chore he was used to doing. He hit the button on the wall to close the roller door before checking the windows were locked. He turned the phone charger off beside her bed and slipped the cash he had in his wallet under her pillow. 
“She won’t accept it otherwise,” he said over her shoulder. “She doesn’t want charity, Cha. Your plan isn’t going to work unless you change your approach.”
“What do you mean?”
“Offering to buy her things. She won’t take it. Everything here was earned the hard way, independently.”
Arthur could see Charles was absorbing the information and already a plan was forming in his mind. 
—
“You look beautiful.”
The stem of the champagne flute in your fingers was nearly snapped when Charles startled you and you turned to find him in a tailored suit, the jacket left unbuttoned. “What are you doing here?”
“There aren’t that many charity events in Marseille today. I thought I would make an appearance, it’s good for the image.”
“What a humble philanthropist you are,” you said with a roll of your eyes while he scanned your face for any sign of the bruising from the night before. “Told you I was good.”
“You could be a professional.” 
A waiter passed by and you swapped your empty flute for a full one while Charles grabbed one of his own. Already you could see the inquisitive looks cast in your direction and knew they would only grow the longer Charles spoke to you. Not wanting to be the focus of the gossip mill you took a step away from him, ready to make your escape.
“I have a proposal.”
“Christ, not this again.” You stepped toe to toe with him so as not to be overheard when you hissed. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Not that kind of proposal,” he chuckled. “Arthur tells me you are quite good at fighting.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering where he was going with it, but nodded confidently. “I am.”
“I have a team of security, but they struggle with the female fans when they get a bit too aggressive.”
“You think having a woman throw them down is more…polite?”
He winced and shook his head but it wasn’t very convincing. “I hope it doesn’t come to that but the guys aren’t very comfortable with the idea.”
“You do realise my father is never going to let me leave Nice to work for you, right? That would not fit the image of his social standing.”
“I know. Now before you shut it down completely, just hear me out.” He paused and you immediately knew you were going to regret even listening to him. “You work for me, secretly, but we tell your father we are engaged.”
“No, no, absolutely not,” you hissed. “Argh, you said this wasn’t a proposal.”
“It’s not, well, it’s a fake one so there’s no suspicion why you are always with me. No one will know you work for me, but I’ll pay you well. You can have new bank accounts in your name that your father can’t access. When you have saved up enough money to live on your own then we can break off the engagement and you will have your freedom.”
“I-”
“Don’t give me an answer now, just think about it, okay?”
You turned on your heel and left the stately rooftop garden. The sun was suddenly too warm and the laughter of conversation seemed to mock you personally as you passed by. It would only be a matter of minutes before your father’s assistant came looking for you but you would take every second of freedom that could. 
You got exactly 97 seconds before the bathroom door swung open and Veronica sighed. “You don’t have a scheduled bathroom break until 11.”
“Too much bubbly,” you lied as you tossed the damp hand towel into the basket. It hadn’t even helped to cool your burning neck so you mentally pulled yourself back together and followed the wretched human back out to the event.
Veronica clasped her personalised diary full of notes behind her back as she nodded her head to a portly man ahead. “Mr Henri Cartier, two sons, wife - Charisse, $3 billion profit.”
You plastered a smile back on your face and approached with all the confidence that your father had trained you to fake. “Mr Cartier, how lovely to see you again. How is Charisse? It is a shame she can’t be here today.”
You zoned out as he started to recall how his wife had flown to London in their Lear as their sons had an important polo match. Cambridge versus Oxford, naturally. It obviously wasn’t important enough since he would rather be shaking hands with this lot instead of watching the game. “…the King himself will be there.”
“Ah, but this is France, we have no King,” you teased. “We take care of our own people. Now, a little birdy told me your business had a remarkable turnover this quarter. I hope to see a reflection of that in your donation.”
The Forbes billionaire laughed haughtily. “Of course, my dear. What else would I do with all the excess?”
You opened your mouth to list off all the other purchases he would rather spend his money on but a slick voice eased into the conversation.
“How many superyachts can one man own?” your father asked. “I’ll tell you, Henri, it’s the same thing I say when my wife makes her famous cannoli - there’s always room for one more.”
The two men laughed way harder than the joke called for, but the real joke was the fact that your mother had never stepped foot in a kitchen. 
“It’s a wonder your charity survives with that advice,” you said as you took a step back and let them pick out the shortcomings of their children, and your entire generation, together. You pretended that you didn’t hear them and let the passive blank face fall into place until a hand took yours and pulled you away.
Veronica’s hand lifted to alert your father to your absence but you took the rescue that Charles offered and trailed behind him, losing sight of the assistant in the crowd.
“Well that was uncomfortable to watch,” he murmured in your ear. It concerned Charles at how quickly you had fallen into the charismatic charade he was accustomed to as he watched. He had hated how comfortable you were at these events, and how you charmed everyone you spoke to. He never realised it was all an act, and that the real person behind the whimsical smile was an intelligent, and abused, woman. “I don’t think I have heard so many variations for the word ‘useless’,” he continued.
Charles was right, your father had used them all in his complaints about you. Henri’s response about his children was equally cold, ‘but at least you only have the one weed in your garden.’
“I’m convinced he reads the thesaurus to find new insults for me.”
“That’s so messed up.” This time he didn’t aim the words at you and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. It was easier to think of him as the asshole you had come to know for the last decade.
“Welcome to my life.”
Charles slowed his pace for you down the stairs but you were used to moving deftly in high heels and raced ahead, tugging his hand to hurry up. A smile grew on his face until you reached the last step that exited the venue and breathed in the salty breeze blowing in from the sea across the street.
“My offer still stands,” he said as the valet quickly brought his car around and he took a step off the curb. “You’re not scared, are you?”
Charles smirked as your eyes narrowed and you took a step closer. “Why are you suddenly so interested in helping me?”
The valet opened the passenger door for you and Charles faced you from over the roof of the black sports car. “Get in and find out.”
Your eyes traced the white and red stripe that ran along the car before looking back at the entrance. The choices weren’t overly appetising but you sighed and ducked down into the low seat, tucking the tail of the gown in before the valet closed the door.
“Don’t make me regret this, Leclerc.”
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 22 days
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i wait for you | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 2
this is the last part in this mini series!! thanks for reading <3 some lines are taken from the movie babylon :) (babylon, you will always be famous)
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
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liked by sebastianvettel, aussiegrit and 766,388 others
yourusername hi, i would like to start by saying thank you for all the kind messages i’ve been receiving over the past couple days. this is my only account on any social media. i know it’s been years since you’ve heard from me so here’s an update:
as of last week, i am now divorced and living happier than ever. i do a lot of reading and baking. i still think about my time on the track and all the wonderful i met.
until next time, take care.
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TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2022
you weren’t sure if you made the right decision, yet here you were in the aston martin garage about to watch sebastian’s last race. the aston martin team made sure photographers weren’t in your face with their cameras, which you thanked them for. yeah, your former job had paparazzi following you almost everywhere but you had gotten used to the quietness.
you hadn’t seen sebastian all day, it was killing you inside. you felt like this was a bad decision, but before you could leave the aston martin garage, you saw sebastian enter with britta by his side. you heard him speaking to her, but he stopped once he spotted you.
britta noticed the look sebastian gave you. it was like seeing two teenagers in love. “i’ll leave you two alone.” she said then left.
sebastian watched as you played with the ring on your finger. it was a habit he noticed in 2010 and somehow you never changed. “we can go in my driver’s room if you’d like. it’s more private.”
“yeah, i’d like that.” you reply. together, you and sebastian walked to his driver’s room.
several people from the aston martin team were secretly rooting for you two, it was clear that they knew about your history. even if they were big fans of you, they didn’t walk up to you to ask for a photo, not when you were with sebastian on the most important night of his life.
you finally made it to his driver’s room. it was small, but it was just perfect for you and sebastian to have a conversation in. you and sebastian sat on the tiny bed. “are you nervous?” you asked.
“more excited actually. it really is nice that you’re here. thank you for coming.” he said.
“i didn’t think you would want me here.”
“why?”
you looked at him. there he was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes. “i thought you hated me all these years.”
“i could never hate you, y/n. i never stopped loving you even when you told me you were engaged, when i found out you said i do to someone else.” he confessed. “i’ve carried this love for you in my heart for many years. but you were happy.”
“i was happy . . then he broke my heart and i gave him the ring back.” you replied. “i realized I didn’t want that life with him . . . because i want that life with you and i know it all seems so sudden but it’s always been you.”
in that moment, seemed to stand still as he processed the weight of her words. he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of hope blossom within him—a hope that, against all odds, maybe, just maybe, they could finally be together.
you could feel a tear run down your cheek. “god, i’m sorry. i dumped all this on you before your last race—”
then she felt sebastian’s lips on hers. as their lips met, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.
for you, it was a revelation—a confirmation of the love she had always felt but never dared to acknowledge it. for sebastian, it was a homecoming—a return to the one person who had always held his heart captive, even when you belonged to another.
their moment had been interrupted by a knock on the door then by sebastian’s father, norbert vettel, asking if he was ready yet.
“i’ll be out in a second.” sebastian replied. he turned to look at you. “i am considering that a good luck kiss.”
“you don’t need luck, you’re sebastian vettel.” you playfully rolled your eyes.
“well whenever i’m with you, i always feel lucky.”
and with that, you and sebastian exited his driver’s room.
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SEB’S LAST RACE
you were feeling lots of emotions. you watched as sebastian finished his post race interview with jenson. you watched from a monitor inside the aston martin garage, you could see the sadness in sebastian’s eyes. you knew the feeling all too well.
“go meet him.” norbert said. “he needs you right now.”
“but—”
“go.” he assured you.
so you walked to the pit lane since sebastian was already making his way back to the garage. once he spotted you, he smiled. you made it clear that now you didn’t care if you were photographed, all you wanted was to be with sebastian.
“i really want to kiss you right now.” sebastian said when he walked up to you. many photographers and journalists were crowded around you, making sure to capture the moment between you two.
“then do it.”
and then, without another word, he pulled her in for a kiss. as his lips met yours, you felt a rush of warmth flood your entire being. as they finally pulled away, your eyes met in a silent understanding. sebastian took your hand and led you to back to the garage where his team was waiting for him.
“i’m so proud of you.” you whispered to him.
“you won’t be saying that when i’m bothering you constantly now that i’ll be around you more.” he joked.
“and i’ll be fine with that.” you reply with a smile.
sebastian turned to face you. he knew it was still early, but he always kept his promises. “one day, i’m going to marry you. i’m going to make you so happy everyday, okay? it’s my only job.”
hearing sebastian’s words filled you with a sense of comfort, joy and reassurance. you suddenly felt more alive and complete than ever before.
“i love you, more deeply than i ever thought possible.” you reply.
and suddenly, everything felt right in the world.
@woozarts @hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict @sam-is-lost @dampcelery0294 @shineforever19 @c-losur3 @lifeless-firefly @horsiegek @ares10156 @purplephantomwolf
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 22 days
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it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
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@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 22 days
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fever dream | sebastian vettel
part 2 part 3
warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!
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yourusername a short trip back home 🤍
lewishamilton enjoy it!
yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍
lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more
yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home
yourusername 🤍 love you
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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”
but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.
“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.
“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.
“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.
“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”
“alison!”
the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.
“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.
“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”
“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.
“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.
“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.
“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”
or a mother.
only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.
you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.
“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”
you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.
“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.
“hello?”
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 23 days
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {1}
Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Warnings: nsfw, swearing, fighting, mentions of character death, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, horrible parents, Arthur Leclerc being the best friend ever WC: 2.5k
One || Two || Three
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“What have you got yourself into now?”
There was no simple answer to that question and it was the very reason you had specifically not called the man waiting for an answer in the corridor. You dragged your eyes away from the chipped grey walls of the cell and stopped reading the tagging that littered the bricks - you didn’t really care that P & H were 2getha 4eva - and sat up from the concrete bed you had attempted to sleep on. 
Stretching your tired muscles, you ignored his question and asked one of your own. “What are you doing here, Charles?”
“Arthur called.” Charles grabbed the bars that separated you, his knuckles turning white as he scanned the other vagrants you had been locked in with. “Did you have to get him involved?”
“What makes you think it was my idea?” It was your idea, but it was rude of him to assume so. 
“My brother wouldn’t know how to find an underground fight club, let alone join one.”
“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”
“Maybe, but I know you.” He looked at your cheeks that were still shiny from the Vaseline that helped the blows glance off, then he looked at your busted knuckles that not even tape could stop from splitting. “Why?”
You shrugged, but it tweaked your shoulder that had taken quite the punch and you winced at the spike of pain. “For a bit of fun, let off some steam.”
“Yeah, you look like you are really enjoying yourself,” he muttered sarcastically before walking away.
“Wait, Charles, where are you going?”
“Home, it’s late and Arthur is waiting in the car.”
“You’re just going to leave me here?”
“You didn’t call me,” he stated coldly. “Bail yourself out this time.”
Your clenched fist hit the metal bar and he briefly paused as the ringing sound followed him down the hall. “Dammit, Charles. Please?”
He continued walking away and you dropped back onto the hard slab of concrete wondering why you bothered. Charles never cared for you and the friendship you had with his younger brother, in fact merely breathing around him seemed to be an offence. It had been that way ever since your family sponsored his career, it was like he resented you for your family’s money. 
“Y/L/N,” a burly bailiff called out, interrupting your ranting inner monologue. “You’ve been posted.” 
A frown pinched your brows together as the door opened and you saw Charles standing in the shadows behind the officer. “Now would be the time for a thank you,” he muttered. 
You were tempted to throw a ‘fuck off’ his way but bit your tongue and accepted the thick hoodie he had draped over his arm. While the sex workers you had shared a cell with wore just as little clothing, yours was for an entirely different reason. The sports bra and bike shorts were perfect for fighting in but left you cold in the early hours of the morning, so you quickly pulled the hoodie over your body. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
“I don’t want your money,” he sighed, rubbing his temple and leaving you with the impression that you were the headache he had.
“That’s not what you said to my father 10 years ago.”
“Is it too late to lock her back up?”
The bailiff looked awkwardly between the two of you and if you were in Monaco the officer would have probably marched you back to the cell, but Charles was in Nice now, he was in your city. 
You quickly signed the release form for your belongings and slipped the family signet ring back onto your finger before turning your phone on. A flood of messages from your father, his assistant and his lawyer, appeared in the flurry of vibrations that made Charles scoff and shake his head. “Worried about his little princess, huh?”
It was your turn to scoff. If only he knew how utterly wrong he was, but you weren’t one to air the dirty laundry of your family - even if it would shut the pretentious twat up for one minute. “Same time next week, boys,” you said with a nod to the officers behind the Perspex wall. 
“You’re seriously messed up,” Charles commented as he followed your quick descent down the front steps and aimed for the dark blue Porsche. 
“Keep sweet talking, you flirt,” you shot back sarcastically. “I thought you had a girlfriend.” 
Arthur had opened his door the moment he spotted you and he knew from the pained look on his brother’s face, and the smile on yours, that the interaction had gone as well as expected. He couldn’t understand why two people he loved dearly had to fight like cats and dogs every time they were in the same room. He had tried to get you to talk to Charles, to tell him the truth about your situation, but it had been hard enough talking to Arthur about it and you trusted him with your life. You weren’t going to go through that again for someone that would be more likely to spit in your face. 
“How’s your nose?” Arthur asked as he gently cupped your face and inspected it.
“Relax, I already reset it.” You took comfort in the warmth of his palms but the fuzzy feeling that came with knowing someone in the world cared about your wellbeing was gone in an instant.
“Daddy can always buy you a new one.”
“Charles!”
“Forget about it, Tur,” you murmured as you stepped back and started to make your way home on foot. “Text me when you get home safe.”
“If you care about him you will leave him alone,” Charles called out as he opened the driver's door. “You’re just going to drag him down with you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur growled at his brother before he started to follow you down the street. “Wait, please.”
“You should listen to your brother,” you said over your shoulder. “I’m a sinking ship.”
Arthur’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to your side and pulled you to a stop. “You’re not a sinking ship, but if you are then I will be your lifeboat.”
“That’s stupid analogy,” you scoffed as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you arrested.”
“I could have run when they raided but what kind of best friend would that make me?”
“One with a clean record,” you pointed out, feeling his chest bounce with a silent laugh.
“It’s overrated. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo now, one to remember my incarceration by. Maybe a tear, just here,” he said as he touched his cheek. “Think it would make me look cool.”
You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Oh yeah, the ladies would love that.”
“Please don’t give my brother any more bad ideas,” Charles muttered as he rolled by slowly in his car with the window down. “Get in, both of you.”
Arthur opened the door and pulled you down with him, tugging you into place on his lap before you could escape. He wasn’t going to let you walk home at 3am, no matter how safe Nice was, but it was annoying that his brother only bought a two seater sports car when he knew that the two of you had been arrested. 
You guided Charles away from the waterfront mansions and into the industrial area that was abandoned at the late hour. Arthur had been to your place plenty of times but it was a first for Charles to see the concrete building with a chipped tile roof at the end of the rundown street.
“What are we doing here?” Charles asked as he parked in front of a rusted metal door.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing Arthur’s cheek before opening the door. 
“What is this place?” Charles asked again as he followed you out, frowning at the key to the door you found under a shattered pot plant.
“I can’t exactly go home like this, can I? Genius.”
Arthur’s door shut as he got out to referee the second round of verbal sparring for the evening.  
“I’m surprised they even let you home after the crap you put them through.”
“Yeah, well, I'm still useful to them so they can’t get rid of me yet. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“It must be so hard living your perfect little life,” Charles drawled sarcastically and Arthur inhaled sharply at the insult.
“You think my life is perfect?” You laughed bitterly and Arthur looked down at his feet. “Do you know why I fight in that shitty underground cage? The only freedom I have is when I get in that ring. It is the only choice I get to make for myself. For five minutes, I am in control of my own life, Charles, I get to fight for myself.”
“In control? You have always done and gotten everything you wanted,” he argued. “You wanted a pony, you got a fucking pony.”
Your vision narrowed as anger exploded in your chest. “There was a price, you fucking idiot! I am paying that price now. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life planned out for you, to find out those gifts came with terms and conditions, so do me a favour and shut the fuck up for once in your life please.”
Charles took a step closer but Arthur placed himself between you, his palms pushing his brother back as your breath quickened to uncontrollable pants. “You don’t understand, just let it go.”
“Damn right I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you listen to her bullshit, Tur. Jules couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, and I can’t either.”
The whomping of blood rushing around your head echoed in your ears as time slowed and Arthur’s arm pulled back. You watched him close his fist like you had taught him, keeping his thumb on the outside to avoid breaking it. You watched the veins on his hand grow thicker as he threw the punch at his own brother and the shock barely registered before Charles fell down on his ass.
“Jules couldn’t be in the same room with her because he knew the truth and he felt guilty!” Arthur screamed down at his brother. “You were too young to understand then, but we aren’t kids anymore.”
Charles broke free of his state of shock and scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “What truth? Huh? Is it worth ruining our brotherhood?”
“Jules was engaged.”
“Bullshit.” Charles shook his head violently and you sank to the ground, leaning back against the cold bricks for the second time that night. “He would have told me.”
“Ask Enzo.” Arthur knew Charles would believe him. Lorenzo was Jules’ best friend, it was why Charles met Jules in the first place. Jules already had ties to your family and he used them to broker the deal that funded Charles’ career. 
“Okay, so what if he was engaged?” Charles snapped as his agitation grew. He was suddenly questioning everything he knew about his godfather and it showed on his shaking hands.
“Because he was engaged to me,” you whispered, a shadow falling across your face as Arthur crouched down beside you and wiped away the tears you hadn’t even felt fall. You couldn’t tell if they were tears of anger or sadness, the two seemed to blur when it came to Jules. He was always there, even in your earliest memories. He was like an older brother to you, he even taught you to ride your bike without trainer wheels. He was always there, until he wasn’t. 
Charles was right, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you once the deal was made. You couldn’t blame him for that. 
“No, no fucking way,” Charles laughed, raking a hand through his hair. “Arthur, are you listening to this shit?”
“I’ve seen the contract, Cha.”
“You’ve always been gullible but this is actually stupid. She was 16. Jules wouldn’t have married a girl. He was 25 for fucks sake.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” you admitted quietly. “It was the price for the deal he made, and you are right, Jules was too noble for that. It took a lot of convincing on his part to wait until I turned 21. My father resented that fact, I think he was hoping to sell me off to someone sooner.”
Charles stumbled back to the hood of his car, watching as Arthur took a seat beside you and draped his arm protectively over your shoulders. The brothers stared at each other but you stared at the gravel between your legs while the truth lingered in the air. 
You could feel the pieces connecting in Charles’ head as if they were being screamed aloud and you flinched at the moment they all came together. Arthur’s arm tightened, Charles' throat bobbed and nausea roiled in your stomach.
“It was me,” Charles choked. “Wasn’t it?”
You didn’t bother looking up as you nodded. “My father never cared about your career. He wanted a union with the Bianchi family and he finally got the opportunity when Jules asked to sponsor you.”
“Why the hell would he agree to that?”
“Because he believed in you, obviously, and I like to think that maybe he thought he could get out of the agreement before I turned 21.” You shrugged because you would never know the complete truth now. It made you sick to think that maybe he did find a way out of it, in the worst way possible.
“Your father…”
“Is a real asshole? Yeah, I know.”
“I was going to say sick bastard.” 
You chuckled in agreement and tipped your head back. “Perfect life, am I right?”
Charles had the decency to winch at the reminder. “You’re an adult now, why don’t you leave?”
��I wish it were that easy. All my bank accounts are under his control. They didn’t let me go to college. I don’t know anyone that isn’t indebted or loyal to him,” you sighed. “I got this place with my fight winnings. It’s not much but it’s mine, at least until he arranges another marriage for me, then I suppose the poor bastard gets it too.”
“Marry me.”
You barked a laugh and looked at Arthur, his lips still parted like they were shocked the words had passed by. “Now you are being stupid. I love you, Tur, and that is precisely why I wouldn’t wish this shit on you.”
“Then marry me,” Charles offered. “You hate me already, and I owe Jules everything. You can come to Monaco and study, or get a job, or whatever you want to do.”
“No, thank you,” you said as you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door. “Drive safe.”
“I’m serious,” Charles growled as caught the door before it closed. “I am offering you a lifeline, why won’t you take it?”
“My father taught me many important life lessons but the first one was if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good night, Charles.”
Part Two - TBC
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 24 days
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Uncle Daniel 🤍
"I'm a good uncle for sure. I'm a very affectionate person. [...] I'm not a massive technology nerd or whatever, but FaceTime is a beautiful thing. I'll FaceTime [my sister], but it's really to speak to the kids. I taught [Isaac] some bad words. Every time he says me, because he knows it's bad now, he won't even say, "Hey, Uncle Daniel." He'll say [cash money bitches]." [x]
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Pierre going "we need to do better, we'll work harder, we'll give you more" on the radio to Daniel after the race but no one will talk about that!!!!
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He's more than perfect. These are on the whole new level.
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via @ mereeedithh on twitter
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Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs
Part 1 of the Lando Norris x reader smau
A/N: Well. It’s happening. I’m so nervous about this one ngl, I hope it lives up the Max one…time will tell. I’m putting this one out a day early because…well you can see why from the texts lol. I anticipate there will be another two parts over the few days of testing. This part is really just an introduction to Y/N and a tiny bit of set up, and the next two parts will be more set up for the plot of the season. Anyway, thank you to everyone who supported me in advance of this new adventure and I hope you like it! 🧡
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Tag list
@s0meth1ngs @mcmuppet @bborra @elliefindlater @stan-josie @ivegotparticulartaste @tildaharoldsegna @nikfigueiredo @cixrosie @bored-brunette2 @lovewithmary @painfromblues @buckybarnex @sainzluvrr @92spcy @ninifee1802 @mineandneveryours @mv1-hoe-era @friday5thapril @sltwins @rd14 @freakfromnorth @nikolaros22 @lanando4 @nichmeddar @leptitlu @biitch-with-wifi @leireggsworld
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abundanceofsoph ¡ 2 months
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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {7}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A short skip over the winter break and into 2024 season.. Warnings: 18+ only, fluffies WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven
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Christmas Eve 2023 - French Alps The air was still when you woke to a fresh dumping of snow on the mountain. The window provided a picture of tranquillity and the embers in the fire gave a peaceful glow to the dark wood walls. Charles had disappeared at dawn for a morning ski with Arthur and you squinted against the white glare to try and find them on the mountainside. 
You probably could have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the door crashing open and the sudden weight of a child on your legs. Penelope crawled up to the headboard with a squeal and jumped into your arms as Max just reached the bedroom door. 
“P, watch out for auntie’s tummy,” Max reminded. She now had to watch out for yours and Aunt Vicky’s tummy, since your sister had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. “Sorry, she slept the whole flight so she’s full of energy. I tried to get her to play with Luka but she wanted you.”
“That’s okay,” you said as she burrowed under the blankets and put her cold feet on Lando’s back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”
Penelope nodded eagerly while Lando slowly woke and you were grateful he was wearing a hideous pair of santa-themed pyjama pants. With even more children around for Christmas this year, everyone had taken to wearing pyjamas. It was good for moments like these, but bad for quick access when you were spooning in the night.
“Papa let me open some presents early!”
Max disappeared out of the room with a wave, heading back to his suite with Kelly down the hall. The small mountain retreat had been completely rented out for another combined family holiday and at the rate the Norris’, Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s were procreating, an entire resort would be needed to host you all next year. Your bet was on Max and Lorenzo becoming fathers next. 
“How exciting! And what did you get?”
Penelope held out her arm to show a mermaid inspired charm bracelet. “That’s beautiful!”
“It’s got Ariel!” she exclaimed, pointing to a red haired mermaid as she bounced excitedly. 
“Is that an earthquake?” Lando asked as he scooped the little girl up into a hug. “No, it’s little P. Why are you waking your favourite uncle up so early?”
“You’re not my favourite,” she said with a fit of giggles.
Lando hung his head and shook it with fake sadness. “Kids are brutal.”
“Kids are honest,” you corrected before kissing his pout away.
“Gross,” P said as she screwed up her face and started to climb off the bed to find ‘Maxie’. She did a sudden u-turn and scrambled across the bed to gently touch your stomach before leaning closer and whispering, “Bye-bye, baby. Love you.”
She was gone again, this time the door swinging shut as she left with no farewell for you or Lando. He let out a little chuckle as he pushed you back into the pillows and drifted down the bed, taking the blankets with him. 
“Hello, baby,” he murmured softly to the bump. At just more than half way along your bump could no longer be mistaken for overindulgence or bloating. “You are looking lovely and round this morning.”
“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you chuckled as you combed your fingers through his hair.
“Shh, I’m having a conversation with my daughter, no eavesdropping,” he warned with a smirk before brushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to your skin before continuing his conversation. The moustache and shaped beard he was slowly but surely growing thicker tickled with each whispered word, the movement of his lips dragging the coarse hairs over your sensitive skin until goosebumps prickled. 
“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said with a smile as the door creaked open and Charles walked in with wind-kissed cheeks. “I just want to hurry up and hold you.”
“Patience, mon cher,” Charles said with a grin, depositing the second layer of cashmere he had worn under his ski jacket on the coat hook. “It’s only four more months.”
Lando groaned at the reminder before shifting on the bed to make space for Charles. 
“Anything you want to add this morning?” you asked. 
You reached for the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it down if it was a no when a knock had you freeze. No, it wasn’t a knock. The thud hadn’t come from outside, but inside. You dropped the shirt and stared at the jut of your hip, right where the skin went soft as it stretched up to your ribs. That soft tissue bulged ever so slightly as you felt the strange sensation of pressure and it drew a gasp that shocked your boyfriends.
“What? What is it?” Lando asked, his voice thick with concern. 
“Give me your hand,” you ordered, already reaching for one of each as you placed them on the spot. “Shhh, just shhh.”
You felt it again and Charles exhaled a shaky breath that ended in a joyous laugh before grabbing Lando’s hand and shifting it slightly. 
“Wha-”
“Shh,” you urged as Charles pressed a finger to his lips. The silence grew and everyone held their breath, waiting.
The air wooshed from Lando with an exclamation, “No fucking way!” His eyes grew wide and he stared at his palm as if the imprint of his daughter’s foot was permanently held on his skin. “Holy shit! She…she…kicked.” 
Charles wrapped an arm around Lando as their shimmering eyes met yours. Pure happiness saturated the room, spilling out into the hall as the door opened and Oliver appeared a little worried. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Lando screeching.”
“Everything’s perfect,” Lando grinned, ignoring the joke he had heard since hitting puberty. 
“She just started kicking,” Charles explained with an equally bright grin, while you danced your fingers along your side, trying to tickle her foot. 
“Core memory unlocked, huh?” Oliver laughed at his brother’s eagerness, remembering the first kicks with his own daughters. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”
“Thanks, we’ll be there soon,” Charles said as Oliver closed the door again.
“Do we have to?” Lando asked as he curled back down and stared at your stomach intently. “I could watch this all day.”
“You can stay but I am hungry, and she is now shy,” you teased as you pulled your shirt back into place and climbed out of bed. With a groan he followed you to the walk-in wardrobe, just like you knew he would. 
“Is the powder good?” Lando asked Charles while they changed into some casual day clothes perfect for the warm interior of the retreat.
“It’s perfect,” Charles all but moaned, it was hard to believe they were talking about snow but both of them loved to ski. “Arthur wants to head back out after lunch.”
Lando looked at you and you waved a hand. “Sheesh, babe, I’m not your keeper. You can go if you want.” 
Lando hated being away the most, not that Charles enjoyed it, but there wasn’t the same level of separation anxiety that Lando had. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”
“On my own?” you laughed and slipped your feet into some simple flats before heading to the door. As soon as it opened the cacophony of everyone congregating in the great room down the hall spilled into your room. “I couldn’t be on my own if I tried.”
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, maxvertappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,382,589 others yourusername This kid scored the gene pool the lottery. Merry Christmas from my family to yours.
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Round One - Bahrain 2024 Fuel fumes drifted up from the pitlane to the balcony you stood upon as the start of the season's first race grew closer. It was strange to look down the entire length of billboards and see no new faces among the driver line up. Fernando still filled the garage beside Lance, but you held no resentment for your replacement. He was making the most out of an opportunity and it almost gave you hope that even after leaving Formula 1, maybe - just maybe - there was a way to get back in. 
Next year would be interesting with so many contracts up for renewal. It was a chance to see new faces on the grid, or perhaps some old faces returning if rumours were to be believed. You wouldn’t mind seeing Sebastian make a return. For the moment, everyone was still too busy talking about Lewis and his move to Ferrari to give much thought to the other shocks that might come with the disruption. The open seat at Mercedes was going to be sought after by every driver stuck in a midfield car. 
“You look deep in thought.”
You broke away from staring at the starting lights to accept a cup of herbal tea from your mother. “Just thinking about how the grid will look next year.”
“Gotta get through this one first,” she reminded. “Speaking of…it’s going to be hard having a newborn at home with those two away so much.”
“I know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the balcony rail as you blew the steam from the mug. The wall calendar at home was already marked with the first half of the season, all the nights Lando and Charles would be away circled in red ink. It had been collectively agreed that flying with a newborn wasn’t a great idea so you would only attend the races you could drive to until she was at least three months old. “This year’s calendar is fucking intense.”
“I want you to know you can call me day or night, sweetie, and I’ll be on the next plane.” She reached for your chin and turned you to face her as your throat clogged with emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to do on your own, you saw it firsthand.”
“You’ve got your own life, I don’t want you to drop it all for me.”
She laughed softly and wrapped you in a careful hug. “You’re my daughter, you are my life, my granddaughter is too.”
“Thank you,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, seeing the cameras in the pitlane pointed your way. “Gah, you made me cry. Now I’ll be on fucking Drive to Survive. I can already see the subtitles ‘Y/N crying as the season starts without her’. Wankers.”
Your mother narrowed her eyes at the camera and flipped them off, making you choke on a laugh. “So much maturity for a grandmother.”
“Yeah well I have been wanting to do that for a while, and I figure I can’t get you fired since you’re unemployed.”
You shared a grin and thought maybe you had more in common than you realised. You thought your fight came from Jos but now you saw a flash of it in her protectiveness and your chest warmed.
“I’m not unemployed, I’m a Lady of Leisure.” You laughed at the roll of her eyes before adding. “I might even get a Birkin for a push present to complete the initiation.”
“What the hell is a push present?”
“It’s a present a new mother gets for destroying her vagina pushing a baby out.”
It was her turn to choke on a laugh. “That’s a thing?”
“Apparently so.” 
“Does the baby not count as a gift?”
“Hmm, maybe you should go ask them?” you said as you jutted your head to the plethora of influencers walking around the grid taking selfies with everyone. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, quite content to stay out of the fray like you.
“No, thank you. Oh, there they are.”
You scanned the crowd and saw Max, Charles, and Lando walking out to the grid together, their heads huddled close as they tried to hear each other over the crowd. They made a beeline to the strips of red carpet and Max stood between the other two as they took their places for the national anthem.
“Looks like the podium lineup to me,” your mother whispered.
You chewed your lip and hoped the data from testing was as promising as it looked for McLaren and Ferrari. But you could never tell quite how much of it was real with the strategies and sandbagging. “I hope so, my boy’s need a good start this year.”
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