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vettelsvee · 16 days

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FIRST VICTORY (PART 2) | Sebastian Vettel

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summary: seb and di wake up together after spending the night in di's hotel room speaking and getting to know each other more. rumors start going around the paddock about both of them being something, and people start making theories about that... including hanna, sebastian's girlfriend.

word count: 7050

warnings: translated german. race strategies that might not seem accurate but i tried my best. sexism, lots of sexism. bad language, curse words. mentions of sex and cheating. seb being a man; everyone being the man (friendly reminder that whatever you read here is fiction, and nothing that happens here or how characters act is real)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

September 14th 2008

Italian Grand Prix Autodromo Nazionale Monza

Sunday

A buzzing sound echoed over the wood of one of the nightstands, followed immediately by an annoying melody that cut off after a few seconds.

Diana, still immersed in the dream she had where both her sister and her were attending a Grand Prix as Fernando Alonso and Jenson Button's partners, abruptly opened her eyes. She didn't recall the time she fell asleep, but she was aware that Sebastian did so before her.

Paling at the thought of the German sleeping next to her, she blinked rapidly, hoping to discover that everything was part of the alternate reality she lived in during her short night.

Realizing she couldn't move, she turned as much as she could, surprised by the scene not only in front of her but also of which she was part of. Sebastian laying beside her, arms wrapped around her as if he didn't want to let go. His hair was completely disheveled, and his mouth was slightly open, letting out occasional snores. The Austrian blushed and tried to prolong the moment, but a flash of light from Sebastian's mobile phone interrupted.

Once again, the ringtone filled the room.

"Seb, wake up, please," the blonde began, pushing him gently to awaken him. "You're getting a call, and I won't be the one to answer."

All she received from the driver were drowsy grunts and a request for five more minutes of sleep. The girl, a bit fearful and curious about whether it was someone important, approached the device and saw the name Hanna on the screen.

Hanna, Sebastian's friend. The one he stood up after the press conference.

Would a friend call you at eight-thirty in the morning on a Sunday? Shouldn't she be at church, studying, or something like that?

"Sebastian," Wagner whispered firmly into the blonde's ear, "Hanna is calling you."

The news seemed to surprise the boy, who quickly bounced out of bed, answering the call. Diana could see desperation in him but chose not to ask where he was heading when he took the phone in his hands and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Sebastian ran out, head down in case anyone from the media recognized him. Hanna had called him twice, and he didn't answer either time, so he assumed she would be worried. He didn't want to imagine how she'd react if she caught him sleeping in his his new friend's hotel room...

No, he hadn't done anything wrong, so he shouldn't panic.

"Hello, Hanna!"

The German greeted his girlfriend, trying to sound as calm as possible, aware that the attempt was in vain. At the same time, he kept moving constantly through the corridors of the third floor.

"Hello, sweetheart! It took you a while to wake up today, right?" Prater replied sweetly, sensing her guy's nervous breathing. "Is something wrong? You sound a bit tense."

"No, no. I just went to bed a bit later than usual preparing some strategies with Alex for today's race," he explained, briefly altering what had actually happened. "I overslept, and they're about to close the buffet, so you might hear me a bit muffled."

Hanna, despite trying to believe her boyfriend, wasn't entirely convinced. She had known Vettel since they entered school. She could tell when something bothered him, especially when he lied. She would venture to say that this was one of those moments when Sebastian preferred to put on a mask and play the actor, as he did every weekend when he had to race.

That was what she liked least about her boyfriend being a Formula 1 driver, and it had become one of the reasons she didn't attend his races, along with the privacy they, especially her, wanted to maintain.

"Are you sure you're okay, Seb?" the German insisted. "Are you worried about today's race, or is there something else?"

"The race is the least of my worries, liebe," he quickly responded, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic. "I'm just nervous because the expectations on me are very high, and I don't want to disappoint anyone. I have so much on my mind right now..."

And that was true. Not every day did you race from your first pole position. Nor did you wake up in a girl's bed, holding her as if your life depended on it, especially when she wasn't your girlfriend and you had only known her for a few months.

The German sighed over the phone, knowing that if her boyfriend was nervous, there was no way to get him to talk. He tended to keep a lot of his feelings to himself, and this seemed to be one of those moments.

"Okay, but if you need to talk or anything, you know I'm just a call away," the girl said affectionately.

"I know, Hanna," Seb replied gratefully. "Don't worry, really. I promise if I win, I'll dedicate you the victory."

Prater accepted her partner's words though she knew something was amiss. Avoiding a conflict, she decided to move on without making a big deal out of it, discussing other matters such as his upcoming return home, whether he felt like going to the movies when they met again and, especially, when they would visit the apartment they had planned to buy in Berlin and liked so much last month.

Throughout the call, Seb tried to stay calm and, especially, forget about the great night he had spent with Di. He knew he had nothing to worry about because he hadn't done anything wrong, but the feeling of guilt for partially hiding the truth from Hanna didn't disappear, no matter how hard he tried.

His girlfriend wouldn't make a scene if she found out, but he was fully aware that it would hurt her because there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be there, in Italy.

With him.

Finally, after a few more minutes of conversation, the couple decided to end the call. As soon as he hung up the phone and put it in the back pocket of his pants, Sebastian quickly returned to Diana's room. She welcomed him with tiny spots of partially applied foundation all over her face, especially under her eyes. Their eyes met, and they couldn't help but smile at each other with a hint of shyness.

"We should hurry, Di. We can't waste too much time."

Vettel smiled at the girl and immediately entered the room to see if he had left anything behind. Diana still stood at the door, a bit embarrassed and, let's face it, confused by the pilot's behavior. She simply watched him while he carefully checked if he left anything. She didn't know if it was because of the race, the call from that Hanna person, or the night they had spent together, but the blonde felt the tension running through the guy in front of her.

"Everything okay?" she asked, finishing applying simple makeup while her gaze followed the German's movements. "You seem... I don't know... strange? You usually make jokes at all hours, but today it seems like you've had thirty coffees."

"Yes. Everything is... fine," the blonde replied, although Diana knew his words didn't convey sincerity, especially. "It was just a call from my friend Hanna. Nothing important for you to worry about."

You're acting as if this Hanna is more than just a friend so yes, I should be worried, thought the girl to herself, knowing there was more to that explanation. Even though she wanted to know more, she decided it was best not to press the guy. If he wanted to share something with her, he would do it when he felt comfortable.

"Are you ready to go?" Sebastian asked to change the subject.

"Yes, of course," Diana assured. "While you were on the phone I went down to the buffet and brought you something to eat," she pointed to some plates on the desk with croissants, cold cuts, some seasonal fruit, and two coffees. "I didn't know what you liked, so I chose a variety within your strict diet," she laughed. "I know you like to be calm before a race, and you wanted to leave already, but you should eat something before you go," the girl explained seriously. "I don't want you to leave with an empty stomach."

Sebastian laughed at the childish tone the blonde used while touching his stomach shyly. It reminded him of his mother when he was a bit younger, forcing him to eat before any karting competition.

Nodding in gratitude, the young man took a piece of pastry and filled it with a slice of mortadella. He took his coffee and sat on the bed, trying not to stain anything and eating more slowly than usual for someone in a hurry. Diana sat next to him, with a small glass in her hand filled with the same drink he was having.

"Aren't you eating anything? Do you want a piece? I can share with you. This is way too much for me" he offered, making a motion to cut his breakfast in half.

The girl shook her head and hands, thanking the driver for his offer.

"I already ate something downstairs before," Diana declared with a not very convincing sound. "Anyway, I wasn't very hungry."

Sebastian continued devouring his croissant as if his life depended on it. It seemed he was hungrier than he initially thought because he ended up eating the remaining loose pieces of cold cuts and even an apple and some peach slices. Diana seemed to have read his mind, even though she didn't want to admit it initially.

"Now we really should go, Di," Vettel said, getting up quickly and picking up everything from the belated breakfast. "If we keep delaying, Franz is going to kill me, and Alex, you."

"Do you think Fiori would be capable of killing me?"

Sebastian Vettel smiled at the girl as he put on his coat and took the belongings the girl usually carried with her.

"You have no idea what that man would be capable of, Di," he said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "But you can't imagine what I would do to prevent that at all costs."

[…]

The journey to the circuit felt longer than the return to the hotel the previous day. This time, there was no soothing rain in the background, no blasting radio with Coldplay music to unwind and drift away. The only thing piercing the ears of Diana and Sebastian was the sound of the car engine, filling the silence within the vehicle.

Well, that and the cheers of thousands of fans waiting outside the circuit, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers speeding by in a car. Well, and also photographers, journalists and anyone eager to extract interesting information or, which was the same, create chaos.

As flashes from cameras began to burst, reflecting on the car windows, Sebastian paled, knowing that what would come out of there wouldn't be good. Diana didn't know what to do. Anxiety attacked her gradually until it became almost unbridled. She had never experienced anything like it and she wasn't enjoying any part of the experience. As she watched Vettel rummage through the belongings he seemed to have in the glove compartment, she focused on taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly. She had had so many anxiety attacks since her early teenage years that she knew exactly what to do and how to do it to calm them as quickly as possible, even though it didn't make them easier to endure.

Fans, upon seeing the pole man arrive, started screaming uncontrollably, making it impossible for Sebastian and Diana to hear each other.

"What's going on? Could you tell me what you're doing, Vettel?"

The blonde raised her voice as much as she could so that the German could distinguish what she was saying. However, he didn't utter a word and continued searching for the unknown until he pulled out a pair of sunglasses, which he hurriedly handed to Diana. Slowly, they were entering the lion's den, and the blonde was aware that if he didn't do anything to remedy it, rumors would start spreading like a pandemic.

"Put this on, please."

Sebastian's face pleaded for mercy. Wagner, who understood nothing of what was happening and even less the mystery the driver had in his hands, just made a disgusted face.

"I'm not putting that on," the girl clarified. "So, don't even think about forcing me to."

"Di..."

The entrance to the paddock parking was getting closer and, with it, the possibilities of getting into trouble. The Austrian persisted, trying by all means to get Sebastian to drop that idea, who became fed up and a bit enraged.

"For God's sake, Diana!" he shouted, still trying to remain calm. He couldn't risk his relationship with Hanna that way, especially for going to a race with a friend, only that the friend was a girl. "I've met journalists in the hard way and I don't want you to become their invention of me hooking up with a girl and then brought to the race, okay?"

Relaxation exercises weren't working at all and, more than anxiety, what Diana was feeling at that moment was pure panic. The feeling of claustrophobia was growing, and if before she felt like she was suffocating, now she was sensing her death right there if no one hurried to help her.

Drawing strength from where she didn't have it, she took those glasses and put them on, lowering her head. Sebastian was right: a girl seen with a driver became the subject of rumors that they had hooked up and brought to the race. Diana Wagner was much more than a mere sex toy, although at Toro Rosso people thought otherwise.

The blinding lights passed quickly until they faded along with the cheers and chants. They had finally entered the private parking of the circuit, exclusively reserved for drivers, demonstrating the amount of security gathered in one place.

Diana hurriedly got out of the car, needing to breathe some fresh air even though they were underground. Sebastian spent a few seconds staying inside the car, trying to calm down from the madness they had experienced, and above all, hoping they hadn't taken a photo of him with his companion with enough quality to cause a sensation in news around the world.

"That was crap, Seb," the girl told him as he got out of the car. "Seriously, I don't understand how so many people can be gathered in one place. I'm sure they couldn't breathe! And isn't there any security? At least an ambulance should be there. You know, someone could..."

"Miss, can I know who you are?"

One of the security guards, of considerable stature and a very robust appearance, approached the girl aggressively.

"I'm Diana Wagner, sir. Race engineering intern, part of Toro Rosso's internship."

The firmness with which the Austrian said that while showing her ID was quickly blurred by the laughter of the men present there, except for Vettel, who wanted to say something even though he knew it wasn't the most appropriate. Finally, the twenty-year-old succumbed to the pressure and the murderous looks, joining the laughter even though he tried to do the opposite.

"Oh, I see," one of the men retorted, "Alex's little bitch. Isn't that right, Vettel?"

"Well, she's much more than that. If it weren't for her..." the German replied, cowed.

"Don't tell us stories, Vettel," another of them, albeit slightly more disheveled, approached the mentioned one. "Let's hope you made her scream so much last night that those are the same screams you make when you win today. And then you make her scream again tonight."

Maybe the intention was to say it in a whisper and keep it between them, but Diana heard it all, just like the rest of those present. Bewildered, she looked at Sebastian, who didn't know how to react, ashamed of his behavior and, above all, wanting to apologize to the girl. Then, she ran towards the team garage, trying not to be run over by the cars that were arriving.

Tears ran down her face as she went through the paddock, trying not to collide with anyone who got in her way. The curious looks didn't leave her alone, and Diana noticed that she didn't want anything more than to become as small as an ant and have everyone ignore her or even trample her, because that's what she felt they were doing. Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when she felt someone grab her arm.

"Who made you cry, beautiful?"

It couldn't be true.

It couldn't be Rosberg again.

Wouldn't he get tired of receiving a no for an answer?

"You as soon as you opened your mouth, to be honest," Diana said sarcastically. "Leave me alone, I already have enough dealing with a German, blond, blue-eyed idiot. I don't need to be enduring another one," she replied, changing the language to perfect Spanish and leaving Nico somewhat perplexed, even though he partially understood what she was saying.

Fernando Alonso, who was talking with Felipe Massa nearby, just laughed quietly, earning a few unfriendly glares from the German and a confused one from the Brazilian. The pair decided to approach the younger ones, who were engrossed in a heated argument.

"What are you talking about?" Felipe asked curiously, interrupting the conversation between the German speakers. "Is it about the rumors that have started circulating?"

"What rumors?"

Rosberg seemed to be having a great time trying to annoy Diana. The girl's face, due to anger, had turned a reddish shade similar to the color of the suit worn by those belonging to Ferrari.

"Those saying that Vettel and you spent the night together," added Alonso in his mother tongue. "I don't know the details, and I don't want to know them, but people can't stop talking about it. Be careful, Diana: what starts well, ends badly."

"And why the hell does anyone care who I spent the night with?" Diana shouted a bit louder than expected in perfect Spanish. "For God's sake, Sebastian and I are just friends... I think," she clarified. "There will never be anything between him and me because... I don't have to give you explanations. I'm done with the conversation."

"Can you talk in a language we all understand perfectly?" Nico pleaded, supported by the Brazilian driver. "Please."

In a matter of minutes, Wagner had gone from sadness to irritability, and in that situation, all she wanted was to hit someone. She didn't want to, of course, but containing her aggressiveness in those moments was becoming an impossible task.

Her entrance to the Toro Rosso garage was nothing special either. As always, glances over the shoulder and gossip was what she received from her colleagues. That day, more than sinking Diana's self-esteem a bit more, they managed to make, for the first time in the entire season, the blonde think about herself and go directly to where she usually spent most of her time inside, ignoring everyone.

As the hours passed, the garage filled with engineers engrossed in their monitors, mechanics focused on preparing the cars in perfect condition, and even some random celebrity who had no idea about the sport but was curious and eager to fiddle with everything, becoming a nuisance.

Wagner, absorbed in telemetry to see if she could come up with a plan B in case Alex messed up, despite the shitty behavior the German had had with her on arrival, began to notice that everyone's attention shifted to the entrance of the box. Curious, she decided to ignore Sebastian's data for a moment and imitate the rest.

Sebastian Vettel, already dressed in the appropriate attire to get into the car, entered the place confidently. Despite being hurt by his behavior, Diana couldn't help but make direct eye contact with the blonde, who gave her a remorseful smile. She did no less: smiled back at him.

Sometimes, she hated being a woman who succumbed to the slightest charms of men, especially when they were blond, of medium height, with clear eyes and, especially, treated her well.

Next to him was a man of short stature and a chubby figure, with little hair and a thick beard that gave him a Santa Claus vibe. By his side, tightly holding his hand, was a girl with long jet-black hair, shy and embarrassed in the crowd around her.

Vettel ignored all the calls directed at him and went straight to Diana, eager to introduce her to two of the most important people in his life:

"Di," he began in German, "let me introduce you to a quarter of my family... I think, Maths has never been my strong suit. This is my father, Norbert," he said, pointing to the man, who quickly shook her hand, "and this is Lara, my little sister," he added, pointing to the girl, who shyly nodded her head.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the girl replied, nervously touching the headphones resting on her neck. "I hope today is lucky and you can see Sebastian take home his first victory."

Vettel's father nodded, very convinced that it would indeed happen.

"I trust my son more than the bank that gave me the loan to pay off our mortgage," he said, patting Seb on the shoulder. "And that's saying something when he's a useless twenty-one-year-old! Plus, having you as an engineer I'm sure everything will go great. Finally I see a girl doing something other than wearing suggestive clothes and applauding these Neanderthals when they step onto the podium!"

"Dad, behave yourself, please," Sebastian forced with a smile while not-so-subtly elbowing his father.

"I'm not Sebastian's engineer, Mr. Vettel," the blonde clarified hastily. "I'm just a team intern. I can't do much, but I promise I'll do my best to ensure your son's race goes as smoothly as possible and, above all, that you enjoy it to the fullest."

Suddenly, Franz appeared and got between them, putting his hands on the shoulders of father and son and leading them away. Sebastian's sister stood in front of Diana, wondering why her brother's boss was so stupid.

"I really wanted to come to a race, but it's all very weird. Mom warned me that this wasn't a good place for a girl like me, and now I see why! Everyone Dad and Seb have talked to seems very silly," she vented, "and you're the only one who has looked at me."

Finally, Lara had gathered the courage to talk to the blonde girl. In response, the girl crouched down to her level. She didn't know why, but that girl, who, despite being of the same blood as the driver, seemed to be the opposite of him, had taken quite a liking to her.

"You get used to it... Lara, right?," the girl nodded, seemingly happy. "I don't usually get much attention, but your brother always manages to make me smile and make me feel valued."

"What does it mean to make you feel valued? Is it something that cost money?"

"It's when someone puts in a lot of effort and you let them know," Sebastian said, reappearing. "Like when your Maths teacher puts a happy face sticker on your notebook when you solve an exercise correctly."

The conversation continued between the siblings and the intern in a more lively and relaxed manner. Lara started to feel more comfortable with the girl, even asking her a few questions about Formula 1 that seemed trivial to Vettel. "What happens if they run out of gas?" or "Can they stop if they need to pee?" were two of the many questions Diana had the pleasure of answering for the ten-year-old until they were interrupted by Alex, who informed Seb, ignoring the two girls, that he had to get into the race car and position it on the starting grid.

The driver apologized, quickly taking Lara's hand to lead her to where Norbert was. Diana simply returned to her seat and hid her head behind one of the screens, but before she could Sebastian spoke to her:

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you. I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I felt incredible pressure, even more than when I'm on the track! I know it's not an excuse because I could have shut them up as I always do, but...

Diana remained static, unsure of how to answer.

"Aren't you going to say anything?", Seb replied, trying to get a response. "I need my paddock girl to bring me good luck."

"Go get 'em, tiger."

"So now you're Mary Jane Watson, huh?" Sebastian confronted, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep Diana's shyness from escalating after that statement. "I didn't think you liked the geek with glasses who shoots webs, which I love, by the way," he explained, "I saw you more as Gwen Stacy actually. You know, since you're blonde and intelligent as fuck..." he pointed to the girl's hair.

Wagner refrained from biting her tongue. She wished she could tell him that blonde wasn't her natural color and that she was a redhead like Peter Parker's girlfriend, only that the insecurity created in college about her hair color had led her to dye it that platinum almost monthly. Also, she was sure that if she decided to go back to the coppery tone she loved so much deep down, they would say it was just for attention, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She hated hiding her true self, but she hated even more the fact that there was a high chance people would like her for not being herself.

Acting was not a profession that particularly appealed to her, but if she had to dedicate herself entirely to it to get what she wanted most, she was more than willing to continue playing the role of her life.

[...]

The starting signal was about to be given, and in the Toro Rosso garage, everyone was aware of it. The rain was the main cause of this, which had started just moments ago and had suddenly poured down all at once.

Everyone was on their feet, watching Sebastian on the large screen hanging on the wall, eagerly awaiting his start. Even Fiori wasn't positioned in front of his computer, and that had never happened.

The expectations for the German were too high, and he could hear it through the comments filtering through his radio. He began to feel nervous but forced himself to calm down: he not only had a team that had trusted him watching him but also his family, the girl he loved, and possibly the entire Heppenheim. Diana kept her eyes on the screen, not taking them off unless it was to see the seconds remaining for the start.

The thunderous sound of the engines took over everyone's attention when the red lights came on, and after the lights went out, the race cars shot off toward the first turn. Wagner held her breath and crossed her fingers, mentally praying to whoever God might be that Sebastian would have opportunities to win despite the rain, which now seemed to be working against him.

After the start, the Toro Rosso garage began to fill with activity. Mechanics returned to their respective positions, waiting for either of the two drivers to make a pit stop, and the same happened with the engineers, who hurried back to telemetry with their helmets on. Diana also did the same and returned to what had become her corner of confidence, immersing herself in the battle through the team's transmission. The buzz of voices and data filled her mind as she followed the race, while she began, as in any other Grand Prix, to develop her own ideas to improve Vettel's performance even if they were in vain.

In the midst of her thoughts, a familiar voice slipped in. Sebastian had started singing a low melody that didn't quite reach her while maintaining the lead. The intern couldn't help but let out a silly smile at the German's antics that had given the team so many headaches.

"Sebastian, I need you to focus on what's around you, not to think you're Freddie Mercury at Wembley."

As the laps went by, and information exchanges continued, the rain increased simultaneously. Although the intermediate tires were suitable at the start of the race, the weather conditions were worsening, affecting Sebastian's performance. Diana could see on her monitor how the sector times for her driver were deteriorating compared to most of the other drivers, especially Barrichello, who was rapidly closing in.

Vettel seemed to be aware of the issue because he repeatedly urged Fiori to make another pit stop, only to receive rejections from the engineer. The blonde continued analyzing the data, and her mind began to develop a strategy that, while not the best and could risk everything, she knew was the most appropriate.

Even though Diana was just a mere intern, or more of a gofer, with no voice or vote, seen only as a pretty face to showcase that women could be part of motorsport, she knew perfectly well that the data Alex was providing lacked cohesion, the strategy hadn't been properly designed and all of it would end in the greatest disappointment for the German driver if something wasn't done.

"Mr. Fiori," she cautiously began, "I think we should consider thinking about a different plan to maximize the chances of success."

Sebastian, who was holding onto the lead as best he could, started listening to the conversation, quite interested in what the girl was saying.

The Austrian had minimal hopes that her boss's response would be appropriate, but it wasn't. Instead of considering the girl's suggestion and seeing what they could do, Alex looked at her with disdain and began a string of derogatory comments that only soured the intern's day even more.

"Do you think you know anything about strategies?," he replied with disdain. "Girls like you should stick to shutting the hell up and stop spewing shit about something you don't know," the glares were starting to focus between the two of them. "If you're still here, it's because you bring us good reputation, not because you're fit for this," he said, pointing at the data. "I'm sure you have some little task to do right now to earn your salary because you're not doing anything here."

"You don't know that because you haven't given me a damn chance to prove what I'm capable of."

The Italian went cold at the response from the subordinate girl. Even Sebastian, who was listening attentively to the discussion they were having, was impressed by his friend's response, though very proud that she had finally decided to stand up for herself.

"I'm just asking you to make one more pit stop and change to wet tires," Diana explained, ignoring the man. "We would stop in the next two or three laps," she calculated. " Then Sebastian would come out, according to my calculations, from the tenth position onwards, and we wouldn't have to stop again because fuel would be just enough, which would even increase the speed of the race car in the last laps."

"Since when do interns think they've been working in Formula 1 for twenty years or so?", he answer with a completely sarcastic tone. "Wagner: you either follow my rules, or you leave. A girl like you shouldn't tell me what to do to get victories for the team, clear?"

"No, actually," Diana replied, not allowing herself to be intimidated and ignoring the man's last words, "but what is clear is that Hamilton, Button, Alonso and Räikkönen have switched to wet tires and are improving their times. That should also be clear to you, just as information."

Alex looked at her with anger. He wanted to kill her at that moment.

"Look, little one...", he commented, approaching the girl intimidatingly. "Stay quiet in some corner like the whore you are. I'm sure the next time you open your mouth, someone, I hope not to be me, will shut you up in ways you won't like. Or maybe you will."

If it hadn't been for her self-control, Diana would have given the man in front of her the beating of his life. She could hear Vettel's voices in the background, very coupled, and how he demanded Alex to leave the girl alone. The twenty-year-old sounded very frustrated, and she completely understood: they were ruining his race.

But Diana Wagner wasn't going to let that happen.

Just as she was about to say something more, Franz Tost appeared, approaching Fiori and whispering something in his ear that none of those around them could hear. The engineer looked at the team leader and simply nodded his head before disappearing from there together.

"You better hope this isn't broadcasted on television, Wagner." Fiori threatened as he disappeared. "If it is, you'll pay dearly."

At that moment, the blonde's adrenaline was so high, even though she felt like shit, that she didn't stop to think about her boss's words, quite the opposite: as quickly as possible, and making sure no one saw her, she took Fiori's headphones and began giving orders to the driver:

"Seb, I don't know if you trust me, but I need you to do the following, so listen to me, please," Diana ordered, drawing strength from where she didn't have it. "You're going to stop in the next lap, change to wet tires and they will give you enough fuel to finish the race with a margin," the urgency in the girl's voice was evident. "Weather conditions are getting worse, and so is the track. If you stick with the intermediates, you risk losing the victory."

The blonde's intervention completely caught Vettel off guard, but he began to mysteriously relax.

"Di, are you sure about what you're saying? Do you think it's the best option?"

She nodded, even though the guy couldn't see her.

"The majority have already stopped and, if my calculations don't fail me," she began to review the telemetry, "you, Bourdais and Webber are the only ones who haven't made any tire changes. All you're going to achieve is gaining grip on the track, getting more speed and securing a victory."

Sebastian took a deep breath, and his response was immediate:

"Okay, Di. Hey... thanks for standing up against Alex," he confessed. "Sometimes he can get a little crazy with all this and loses his nerves under pressure."

"You don't have to apologize," she said affectionately. "I'm here for this, and I'd rather end up on the street than not being able to help you to show what you can do."

One pit stop, about seventeen more laps, and some struggles that kept hearts pounding until the end, Sebastian Vettel was the first to cross the waving checkered flag of the circuit. Everyone from Toro Rosso began running euphorically to the fence to greet the guy, still racing in his race car and already heading to parc fermé. Cheers and applause began filling the air, and all eyes were on the young German driver who had achieved his first victory.

Sebastian, with his helmet still on, ran towards his mechanics and even to his engineer, who celebrated the victory as if he had been part of it. The blonde's face was infected with a smile that seemed unwilling to disappear; his arms, raised in a sign of victory, were followed by what, from that moment on, would become his characteristic celebration: his index finger pointing straight, indicating that he had finished first.

Diana, who was watching everything from the box, witnessed the scene with a series of conflicting feelings. Before the German was taken by some responsible people to the podium, she saw how their eyes met, and Seb articulated a thank you in their native language, intended only for her; he even blew her a kiss and winked at her, but she didn't give it much importance because he did the same on the podium many times, looking directly at his team.

Everything happened very quickly. The podium ascent after the post-race weigh-ins. The German anthem in honor of the champion, immediately followed by the Italian anthem; the trophy presentations and the corresponding champagne celebration, concluding with an interview where Sebastian couldn't stop thanking Tost, Alex, and the team in general.

As the girl expected, there was no special mention of Diana Wagner; just a note on the floor of her hotel room that welcomed her as soon as she crossed the door.

Thank you for making this possible, newbie. I apologize for the haste, but Horner has arranged a dinner with Tost and a couple of others to discuss my Red Bull contract more seriously. I wanted to see you, and no matter the excuses I've given, Britta has forced me to go. You should see how ridiculous I look in a suit. I owe you a dinner and, above all, my life, I would say.

P.S.: The kisses I threw were for you, each and every one of them; without you, none of this would have been possible.

P.S.2: I owe you a dinner, how about at the end of the season? That way, we avoid surprises :)

P.S.3: I don't know if roses are your favorite flowers, and I don't know if you like chocolate, but... I hope you at least like the small detail you have on your desk.

The surface where that morning she had set the breakfast for the German was now almost completely covered with a large bouquet of flowers and various types of Italian sweets.

Diana Wagner was slowly sinking into quicksand, and she wasn't even aware of it yet.

[…]

Sebastian Vettel detested nothing more than meetings, especially after winning his first victory when he could be out getting drunk with shots and various drinks, leaving him vomiting and hungover the next morning.

Or having a quiet dinner with Diana in his room as a thank-you for what she had done for him.

God, how much he loved that girl.

He emerged from the bathroom with disheveled hair, wearing only a towel around his waist. Small drops of water fell down his bare chest, but Vettel was so eager to talk to his girlfriend that he took a shower of less than a minute, dried off quickly, and rushed to his backpack to grab his laptop and call Prater on Skype.

Hanna appeared on the screen, but not her exactly. Instead, there was photo she had taken for her university ID. It was strange for the German to have the camera off. Normally, after a race, she was always eager to see Sebastian to chat or even do something crazy.

"Sorry for taking so long, love," Seb started saying. "Britta, as we know her, forced me to go to a dinner with..."

His words were interrupted by the arrival of two photos his girlfriend had sent through the app's chat. His gaze shifted to the blurry, thumbnail-sized images that were downloading. When they opened, he could clearly see himself holding the steering wheel with one hand while the other reached for a blurry face, one he knew perfectly was Diana's.

Damn.

This couldn't be happening.

"Were you busy with dinner or that blonde who looks so much like me and clearly isn't me?"

The question was directed straight at the German, who began to get nervous. No matter how much he tried to stay calm because he hadn't done anything, he couldn't help his pulse skyrocketing uncontrollably.

"Hanna, listen, it's not what you think," he began to explain, searching for the right words for her to listen.

She, now with her camera activated, stared at him through the screen, her blue eyes reflecting only disappointment.

"Seb, I need you to tell me the truth."

"Liebe, I promise there's nothing between that girl and me," the German's thoughts began to jumble. "It's Diana, I think I've told you about her. The intern. It was just pouring rain and I wasn't going to let her walk alone to the circuit."

Hanna interrupted him:

"I understand, darling," she said, "but I don't understand why you're smiling. Do you feel more comfortable with her than with me?" The girl began to cry. "Damn it, I'm so insecure. You dedicated today's victory to me with those kisses..."

Vettel ran his hand through his wet hair, completely desperate with that situation. He knew Hanna was very insecure and that what bothered her the most when he was away was the people he associated with. For that reason, they had had a thousand and one fights that kept happening despite the driver assuring her that she was the love of his life and the only person he had eyes for.

But that didn't mean he wasn't guilty of the events of the previous night and the accumulating lies, like the dedication of the victory.

It wasn't for Hanna but for the girl who seemed to be slowly becoming his girlfriend's replacement in the paddock.

"Hanna, I promise you have nothing to worry about," the blonde said, feeling great guilt because the photos were taken with the intention of creating misunderstandings. "My relationship with you is the most important thing to me. Besides, Diana probably has a boyfriend. She's just a mate, and if it makes you feel better, I'll talk to her to avoid misunderstandings," he let out. "If you allow me, of course."

The girl seemed to consider it for a moment until she finally agreed.

"Okay, Seb. But I want you to swear to me, for the sake of everything you hold dear, that if something changes between you two and you start to be more than friends, you'll tell me. You know you have my trust to do so."

Sebastian nodded seriously, swallowing at the same time to contain the question that was eating him up inside these days.

Why had he grown so fond of Diana Wagner in such a short time?

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tonnerredebrest · 2 years

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Can you do one about 2008 simi+ sebs first win in Monza?

Of course! Here's a 3 part thingy about them. I tweaked the ask a bit, so we actually get 2007/2008 simi!

thanks to @muodoll1sesti for the Finnish translation! AO3 link at the bottom, as always.

wordcount: around 3k no tw or cw.

also i’m on vacation for a while, formatting will seem off and i’ll can’t promise i’ll keep up this pace

*****

First Grand Prix and Points

The world had been shocked by Robert Kubica's accident, and even if the Polish driver had made an exceptionally quick recovery, he still wasn't allowed back on the track by the FIA's doctors. It was really sad for him, but not for one young Sebastian Vettel. Test driver for BMW Sauber since the start of the season, he got offered the seat for the United States Grand Prix. The youngster was beyond happy. He will drive in a Formula 1 Grand Prix, and he will be the youngest doing so. Not even a day was being called up, and Seb was already making history. Of course, he intended to do more, and shoot for the youngest point-scoring driver too.

It's in this happy and determined mood that Sebastian entered the Indianapolis speedway circuit, on a sunny Friday afternoon. Around his neck hung a badge, officially designating him as a Formula 1 driver. The team was all around him, making sure no security stopped him. With his blond-ish semi-long hair and full cheeks, he didn't look like an actual adult, ready to drive a car at more than 250 km/h.

The car looked good. It did have Kubica's settings, but Seb managed with them. The first free practice went good, he got a good feel of the car. He felt so good, that he managed to be in the top ten of the grid. Not bad for a rookie. Second free practice went the same, yet this time he managed to get closer to the top five, finishing in seventh place. The German went back to his hotel very pleased with himself. If he continued like that, he could even shoot for a top-five place in qualifying.

Saturday had been amazing for him too. The third free practice saw him get into the top ten again, but this time at tenth place. However, it didn't matter to the young driver, and he was confident he would do better in qualifications.

Saturday had been astounding for him too. The third free practice saw him get into the top ten again, but this time at tenth place. However, it didn't matter to the young driver, as he was confident he would do even better in qualifying. At midday, he tried to eat, even if his stomach was tight due to stress. His engineer took pity on him and gave him a chocolate bar. He wasn't supposed to eat such things, but he still did. It could do only good at that moment.

Qualifying came, and somehow Seb was flying on the track. He passed Q1 with a comfortable margin and went into Q2 more confident than ever. Again, He managed to pass the stage, finding himself in Q3. His engineer almost screamed on his radio, the team was more than happy with that. Yet, Seb wanted to push more. He knew he could get better than the tenth place. So that's what he did, and he finished seventh on the grid. Sebastian, a rookie who only replaced Kubica for one race, had qualified higher than professional F1 drivers, racing for a longer time than he could talk and walk.

In the garage, the team congratulated him, almost throwing a party. It wasn't every day a rookie got such a good start. Seb was more than happy, enjoying his non-alcoholic drink, as he did have a race the next day.

That night, Seb couldn't sleep. He tried, again and again, but nothing worked. He resorted himself to observing the ceiling and counting sheep until sleep find him. As the ski became lighter by the minute, the German finally closed his eyes. By some miracle, Seb didn't wake up late. He got dressed, went to eat his breakfast, and arrived at the track right on time.

The race came, and it went in a blink of an eye. Seb couldn’t remember what happened, he just drove the best he could, avoiding a collision and several cars having mechanical failures. He did remember his teammate having to abandon due to some problems, and he did remember he had to fight hard to stay where he was.

As he parked his car in front of the paddock, Seb couldn't believe it. He made it, he maintained his 8th place, making him score l point. His radio was filled with shouts. He parked his car in the paddock, waiting for it to be put inside the garage. As he got out of it, a swirl of engineers, mechanics, and other team members came to celebrate. Some champagne had been distributed, and the German found himself soaked in the sparkling wine.

They held a little party there, taking pictures and working just a little. It was more of a warming up to the real thing, but it felt nice.

At some point, his teammate for the week, Nick Heidfeld, approached him.

“There's someone who wants to meet you,” The German said, nodding towards the entrance of the garage.

Seb looked, but he could see who it was, he could only make out a red race suit.

“Let's go,” he said, already going to the newcomer.

Against the frame of the door, Kimi Räikkönen waited. Sebastian was just starstruck. Of course, he had met some pretty famous drivers already, but it was always a shock at first.

“Here's Seb,” Nick said, matter-of-fact.

“He-hei,” the youngster said, trying his best Finnish accent.

Kimi raised one of his eyebrows.

“Suomea?”

“Vähän,” Seb couldn't help but blush.

“It’s alright. So you are the one who almost passed me.”

“Yeah,” Seb swallowed, trying to make his voice sound more confident. “I mean, I saw an opening and I tried to take it.”

The Finn only smirked. As if it was a new Pavlovian reaction, Sebastian’s cheeks reddened even further.

“See you around,” The Finn winked at him, before leaving.

“Goodbye,” Seb murmured, quite lost by what happened.

He looked at his temporary teammate, who wasn't even there anymore. That bastard had left, going to take more champagne.

In a way it was for the best, Seb didn't want anyone to remember how awkward this interaction had been.

“Hey, Seb?” A mechanic called him, from the other side of the garage. “We’re going to a blues bar to celebrate your points and GP!”

The German smiled. There was no better way to celebrate and forget than drinking.

First Badminton and Kiss

During the year 2007, the pair had grown close. With Seb's new seat at Toro Rosso in the middle of the season, they had more time to spend together. Well, "spend together" was a euphemism. They barely talked outside the paddock, and if they did, Kimi always found a new way to make Sebastian blush.At the New Year’s party Seb attended, he made himself a promise. That year, in 2008, Seb will get to call Kimi his friend, or more.

Sebastian walked in the pre-season practice optimistically. He could see Kimi in the distance, already in his fireproofs and race suit. He looked as good as ever. The Finn looked toward him, and Seb blushed. Yet, he didn’t divert his eyes, no. Instead, he smirked and winked at the older man. Kimi seemed surprised, even tho an untrained eye wouldn’t have caught it.

The German had to walk away, but he sure did want to continue whatever they had. If the Finn was that response to his shenanigans, he was sure he could go further.

And he did. In the second session, he managed to grab a hold of Kimi. The latter was just chilling outside the paddock, enjoying the sunlight.

“Hei, Kimi,” the German saluted him, hiding the sun from his face.

“What,” the other driver groaned, clearly disturbed in his afternoon nap.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

Seb didn't know when he found the courage to ask him out, but he did. There was no going back from this. The Finn opened his eyes, finally seeing who was talking to him.

“Badminton”, he said, sitting up.

“Oh cool,” Seb had to think of a reply, fast. He did play some badminton back in high school, he could probably play now too. “Can I join you?”

Kimi looked surprised, and Seb was happy to always keep him on his toes.

“Erm, yeah,” he agreed. “Tomorrow, 5 in the afternoon, at the hotel’s court?”

His voice sounded like a question, he wanted to know if it could work for the German too.

“Sounds good!” Seb enthusiastically replied. “See you there!”

And he left, leaving the groggy and amazed Finn alone.

----------

The next day, Kimi showed up on the court in a classic Ferrari polo and white shirt, sunglasses and a cap fixed on his head. He had this very professional racket bag, which had the same red as his shirt. He looked like he was in his element, and Seb guessed he must play like he owned the badminton court.

When the Finn looked at him, he immediately straightened. Seb smirked, knowing very well why. He had opted for a classic white t-shirt, but short shorts, which didn’t let a lot of place for the imagination. Paired with high socks and a pair of trainers, he knew he looked irresistible. It was kind of the point, and Seb was glad he got his outfit right.

“So, we’re going straight in?” He asked, swinging his racket on his shoulder.

Ok, it had been years since he last played badminton, but that wasn’t the point.

“Erm, yes,” The Finn fumbled, getting out his racket and the shuttle.

They got on the court and started exchanges. From the start, it was visible that Seb was struggling against Kimi. It was as if the Finn had been some kind of professional badminton player in a past life, or the German was just bad.

After a while, the Toro Rosso driver struggled to keep up the pace. He was getting tired, running from one side of his part of the field to the other. In the meantime, Kimi was enjoying making the youngster run, not moving.

“I need water, and a break,” Seb managed to croak out after losing yet another point, not that they kept count after Kimi scored his 20th.

“OK,” the latter replied, going to get his bottle too.

The younger one practically made a run for the sweet liquid, pushing hard on the bottle. In his rush, it git messy, and a few drops of water landed on his shirt. It made it stick to his body, making his chest more visible than before.

“You ready?” Kimi asked from the other side of the court.

“Yup!” He replied, facing his opponent again.

When the Finn’s eyes lent on him, Seb knew he got what he wanted. Kimi’s cheeks reddened and his eyes tried to look at his face, but inevitably ended on his chest. The German grinned wide.

“Like what you see?”

The Finn gulped down, visibly a little flustered. Seb saw it as his chance. He slowly walked up to him, leaning against the net’s pole. It did bring out his hips and thighs, and Kimi couldn't look away. Seb looked at him from under his eyes, and he knew Kimi was done for.

The Finn came up to him, leaning against the same pole too. It was an awkward position, but Seb could look deep into his eyes, and see all the lust there was in there. The younger licked his lips, hitting his bottom one a little, to make it redder. Kimi sharply inhaled, as if he was trying to hold himself back.

Seb just smiled, before bringing one hand to cup the other’s face. He could see Kimi’s eyes darting from his lips to his eyes.

“Siitä vaan,” he whispered, looking straight at him.

“Vittu,” the Finn swore, before going straight for Seb’s lips.

He moaned. It was hot, it was messy, it was probably too rushed, but Seb wouldn't want it in any other way. If Kimi’s lips only had set a fire alight within him, he wondered what his tongue would do.

So the younger one parted his like, tentatively licking Kimi’s. He could have sworn the latter moaned, but Seb wasn't in a better state himself. His hand went up in Kimi’s hair, gently tubing on it.

They only parted when the air became too scarce, and Kimi rocking smirked. Seb couldn't keep himself from kissing it.

First Pole and Win

To Seb’s dismay, they hadn't talked about what happened that day during pre-season testing. They had left that hot potato there, probably thinking it was for the better. Instead, they just kept stealing some moments to kiss the living daylight out of themselves. If they were bold enough, they also steal a handjob or too being two tire racks.

Seb considered it as some kind of mutual stress reliever, even if he wanted more. He craved the intimacy only a lover could provide. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up in Kimi’s arms. Each night, he fell asleep wondering how Kimi slept, if he took the whole bed or just a part if he brushed his teeth before or after showering, and other mundane things like that.

Yet, he didn't have the guts to talk to him. He didn't want to lose whatever they had, and he was sure that by talking, all his effort would go to waste.

It's in those very mixed feelings that Sebastian went to the Italian Grand Prix. At least, if his love life wasn't how he expected it to be, his car was outperforming what he had initially thought it could do. He had a good feeling about that race weekend. It would end in either podium or win, even if he didn't dare think that much about the latter in advance.

The free practices went well, and his feelings were confirmed Saturday. In a somewhat extraordinary manner, he managed to grab the pole. His first pole, ever. In a Toro Rosso. Seb smirked at himself, he knew he was due to do great things in the future.

After his media duties, Kimi found him and dragged him somewhere quiet. He was a Ferrari driver, after all, he knew Monza’s inner secrets. They went past some corridors, and doors which seemed to magically open for the Finn.

“Where are you taking me?” Seb asked while laughing.

“You’ll see,” Kimi replied, still dragging him.

They finally arrived in front of a cupboard, whose door stated something in bold white on a red background. Kimi opened it and pushed Seb inside, lips already together, tongues searching for each other.

The German moaned in the kiss, letting himself melt in the other’s arms. He wanted more, he always wanted more. More touch, more feels, more speed. Seb fumbled with the fireproofs, clumsily opening the race suit. He slid his hands under it, trying to get under the protective t-shirt.

“Impatient,” Kimi chuckled, gently taking the younger’s hands off him.

“Kimi,” the latter moaned, not appreciating at all being denied anything.

“Shhh, someone might hear us,” the Finn whispered in his ear, making Seb, even more, turned on.

“Please,” the German pleaded.

“For what?” Kimi was now mouthing at his neck.

Even he didn't know.

“Nur,” Seb took a sharp breath in, as Kimi began sucking on his neck. “Touch me, bitte!”

Kimi chuckled again, before detaching himself from the pliant body in front of him.

“If you win,” he promised, “I’ll do that,” and he left, leaving a planting and wanting German behind.

Seb groaned in frustration. He couldn't wait for that race.

----------

Seb couldn't believe it. Not even a year after his F1 debut, he was already a Grand Prix winner. He, the German kid driving a Toro Rosso, had beaten square and fair his parent team, Ferrari, and Mercedes. What a day it was for him.

The podium celebration had been wild. He had never received so much champagne in his whole life. He was indeed only 18, and the youngest Grand Prix winner, so he didn't have a lot of experience before.

He couldn't wait to get out of his media duties. His leg bounced and bounced. He had so much adrenaline left in his body, he needed to take it out. Seb knew exactly how, but he guessed it wouldn't do him good to jump on Kimi and make out with him public.

He got lucky, he finished the conference before he had the chance to do something he might regret. He quickly thanked the reporters, and almost ran out of the room. The pilots looked at him funnily, but Seb was sure they understood. After all, who doesn't want to celebrate their win?

The team welcomed him back with champagne, again, before making plans to get to a local nightclub.

“This time you'll be able to enter!” Joked a mechanic, as in the US, for his first GP, he didn't even get to enter a bar.

The team laughed, and Seb smirked.

“Yeah, let me quickly change and I’ll join you there,” he said, already going to his cooldown room.

Still sweety from the race, he only took off his race clothes, to put on more indistinguishable ones. As he was leaving the room, a red and white flag came up to him, only to push him inside again.

“Wä,” the German said, surprised that someone had done that.

He looked at the intruder, and he immediately recognised.

“Kimi?” He asked, not knowing why the Finn had ambushed him there.

The latter was smirking and gently pushed him onto the sofa. Seb landed on his ass, and Kimi didn't waste a second to climb on his lap.

They looked at each other for a second. The German could see lust filling the profound blue sea in front of him. He guessed it must have been the same for himself.

This time, it's Seb who lunged at Kimi, going straight for an open-mouth kiss. Their tongues danced together, the German didn't know a thing as simple as a kiss could transform him into a wanton being. He tried again to slip up his hands under Kimi’s polo, and he was stopped.

“It’s my gift to you,” the Finn said, almost pinning the German’s hands above his head. “I’m in control, kulta.”

Seb moaned. That endearment went straight to his soul, lighting it on fire. He didn't know if it was genuine or if Kimi just slipped up, but it was more than enough to make his stomach a puddle of warmth.

“Re-really?” The German asked, between breaths.

“Joo” Kimi whispered against his lips.

Seb looked one more time in the Finn’s eyes. He could see lust, yes, but also affection and endearment. The German smirked, before kissing his lover again. He was glad he won't wake up alone the next day.

*****

also guys please tell me if you find any mistakes/strange words which seem to not belong. i’m no native english speaker, im writing on mobile, and im shit at proofreading.

#formula one #formula 1 #fanfic #ao3 works #sebastian vettel #simi #kimi raikkonen #italian gp 2008

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