COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

come what may masterlist | formula 1 masterlist

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

Red Bull Sebastian Vettel x Red Bull intern & Webber girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: During 2010 RB6 presentation and preseason testing, Mark starts acting quite weird with you. To your surprise, Webber gives some opinions on your work that start making you overthink, even when Seb tries his best to calm you down. You know 2010 season is going to be a hell when Webber asks to have a private conversation with Christian Horner and Helmut Marko.

WORD COUNT: 3695

WARNINGS: Angst, curse words and bad language, toxic relationships involving mental abuse and manipulation, such a toxic Mark Webber, mentions of death and suicide

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @residentdemonhunter @astronomyandfrogs @herdetectivetheorist @prttylight @i-love-sirius-black7 @dreamauri @03071987 [feel free to join the taglist!]

VEE'S NOTES: I didn't post this earlier because I wasn't in a good mood after the prologue wasn't pretty liked to be honest, but here I am! Sorry for the delay, and if you read this hope you like it <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ ACT I: LOSS OF MY LIFE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

Jerez, Spain 10th February, 2010

You hadn’t received a single call from Mark since the day you last spoke to him. In fact, you hadn’t expected him to call, but that didn’t stop you from feeling disappointed.

The only thing you got from your boyfriend was an endless string of missed calls, followed by the sound of his voicemail, his pre-recorded voice telling you to leave a message and that he would call you back later. And you did leave messages, knowing full well you wouldn’t get a response.

Instead, it was Seb who spoke to you every day.

The German hadn’t said anything else during that fateful dinner that should have been a refuge for both of you; nor did he bring it up for the rest of his stay in Linz or even when he was back in Heppenheim. Even though you had agreed not to see each other again until it was time to fly to Spain for the presentation of Red Bull’s new car, the RB6, Sebastian never stopped worrying about you. He called you daily; he was the first to hear about your grades from the penultimate semester of university, and sometimes, you even fell asleep while still on the phone with him. You both stayed up late talking, no matter how many times you promised to sleep early, only to curse yourselves the next morning for breaking that promise, despite knowing you would do it again.

You tried, with difficulty, to get some sort of call, message, or even a breakup and an explanation from Mark about why he no longer wanted to continue your strange relationship. You did everything you could to let him know that the team had contacted you, requiring you to be in southern Europe in February, but it was impossible.

The blue-eyed man who made your days easier, especially as your father’s health worsened and you were already grieving before the inevitable, not only showed interest and happiness that Red Bull Racing’s intern would be at the event, but he also offered to travel to Austria and stay with you for two or three days before the flight. He knew how terrified you were of flying and didn’t want you to go through it alone.

You didn’t see Mark or anyone from the team, except for the obvious Sebastian and his PR manager, Britta Roeske, during the two days leading up to the big event. That Wednesday, however, anxiety took over as you got ready in your hotel room. The feeling only intensified as you headed to the circuit with your best friend, realizing that you would have to face Mark.

It was barely ten in the morning, and the air was already thick with the persistent scent of burnt rubber, oil, and fuel, not to mention the noise caused by photographers, journalists, team members, and the occasional fan roaming around.

The RB6 had just been unveiled, and now, everyone was behind the cameras, hidden in the garages after dealing with the press. All that was left was to wait for the mechanics to finish the final adjustments before the first day of pre-season testing began, with both Webber and Vettel taking part.

Sebastian stood beside you, tucked away in a corner of the garage. His arms were crossed, and his eyes constantly moved, not out of nervousness, but out of an effort to stay in control of everything. He knew you would run into your teammate at any moment, and more than wanting to prevent an altercation, he didn’t want the Australian to create a scene big enough for others to notice.

More than anything, he didn’t want all of that to be another burden for you.

You, on the other hand, were nervous. Your hands fidgeted, grasping each other, playing with your hair, or clutching your jacket. Your eyes darted around, and each time a door opened or someone entered, your body tensed, only to relax upon realizing it wasn’t the person you dreaded seeing most.

It hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Mark, but enough time had passed for you to try to push it from your mind, or at least, to not give it so much importance. But you couldn’t. It still hurt to comprehend that he only called to demand explanations about your life and judge you, fully aware of how important Seb was to you, rather than to apologize for forgetting about you for weeks despite your insistence on staying in touch.

You gave up, but that didn’t make you feel any better. The only thing that comforted you was knowing that you had been there for Sebastian when he needed a friend the most. But what made you question whether it was all worth it was the fact that Mark had already made up his mind, and nothing you could say would convince him otherwise.

When you turned to look at the man beside you, and he gazed at you with a light in his eyes that you had never seen in your boyfriend’s, you knew you would endure a thousand more fights with Mark just to see Sebastian happy.

Finally, Mark appeared, his race suit half-unzipped. He started chatting with some team members, who seemed more than happy to see him after so many months.

As he cheerfully greeted each one of them, playing the part of the charming prince, Sebastian rolled his eyes. He couldn’t see his teammate the same way anymore—not after hearing him yell at you over the phone and, worse, manipulate you in ways you didn’t seem to notice.

“Y/N, you don’t have to talk to him right now,” Sebastian murmured, stepping closer to you.

You felt a shiver run through you but tried to stay in control. You saw Webber approaching, and by instinct, you moved closer to Seb, almost knocking him over. He wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling.

“Sorry…” was all you managed to say, unaware of what he had just told you.

“Talk to him when you feel strong enough,” Vettel continued, his voice just as calm. “Take a deep breath, and think carefully about what you want to say.”

“No, Seb, I need to talk to Mark as soon as possible…”

“Y/N—”

“If he’s going to act the way he did on the phone or make passive-aggressive comments through veiled insults, I’d rather he say it to my face,” you declared. Then, sighing, you forced yourself to relax before walking toward your boyfriend. “I’m sorry…”

Sebastian sighed this time, and despite knowing Webber was watching, he hugged you. Then, glaring at the Australian, he gently cupped your face in his hands.

And oh, how he wished he could not only kiss you but also make you see that you deserved far more than the love Webber had made you believe you were worth.

“Be careful, okay? Mark… He knows how to hurt you.”

You nodded timidly before kissing his cheek, promising him that everything would be fine, even though you had no idea what would happen or how things between you and Mark would end.

Without saying much more, you started crossing the garage, trying to follow Mark’s steps. After seeing how you and Sebastian had been acting, the two of you, who claimed to be nothing more than best friends, Mark had decided to leave, holding back the urge to cause a scene that would land both you and him on the front pages of every Formula 1 gossip magazine… if that was even what he wanted, of course.

"Can we talk?"

You quickened your pace slightly and carefully grabbed Mark’s fireproof suit. He turned around, coming face to face with you, frustrated, maybe even disappointed. You knew he was angry, even though your voice sounded firm. At least, that’s what your body language was screaming.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" Webber laughed bitterly.

"Don’t start," you warned, raising your voice a little more than you should have. "I just want to clear things up because, since you didn’t give me the chance to do it on the phone, maybe now that I have you in front of me, you will."

"Let me remind you that you were the one who hung up the call after I… I don’t know… maybe started pissing you off by calling you out for hiding things from me?"

You tried to argue back, but you knew it wasn’t worth it. Instead, you stayed quiet, though you rolled your eyes just enough to let Mark know how impossible he was—and to irritate him in the process.

He wanted you to torment yourself, to let the guilt eat you alive until you admitted the truth—the way he saw it. And deep down, that was exactly what he wanted.

"Fine. Go ahead," the Australian finally conceded.

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm before speaking.

"You accused me of things that aren’t true, Mark, and you know it. Seb was in Linz because he needed a break, okay? He needed to clear his head, disconnect from everything… He and Hanna had just broken up, and I offered to let him stay at my place for him, not for me. He needed support, and that’s what friends do."

"And out of all the people who could have been there for him, he had to choose you?" Mark scoffed, tilting his head slightly at your explanation. "That’s a bit strange, don’t you think?"

"It’s not what you’re thinking, Mark."

"Yeah, I know. But let me tell you, it’s pretty damn strange. And forgive me for doubting you, but isn’t it interesting how you’re always there when Seb needs someone? It’s almost like… like you want him to need you."

Your hands clenched into fists on instinct. You were quickly reaching your breaking point.

"I was just being a friend, you know? Not like you, who couldn’t even bother to pick up the damn phone once or even send me a single message since the season ended."

"Oh, so now this is my fault?" Mark pointed to himself, a smirk creeping onto his face.

"I just want you to know that I didn’t do anything wrong."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say. Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?" He stepped closer, forcing you to take a few steps back, not that it mattered, because he grabbed your wrists before you could escape. His grip was tighter than you would have liked. Even when you tried to pull away, he didn’t let go. "You always think you can fix everything. You think you can save everyone from whatever pain they’re going through. But I don’t blame you. Maybe it’s just your way of coping… making yourself feel better after your mother killed herself."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You were speechless. Breathing became harder, and seeing became nearly impossible with the tears welling up in your eyes. Everything around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the man in front of you and the words he had just spoken.

Maybe it’s just your way of coping… making yourself feel better after your mother killed herself.

For years, you had convinced yourself that your mother had been sick, that you weren’t at fault for not being able to save her. That you weren’t to blame for not getting home earlier that day, only to find her lifeless on the bed. You had told yourself, over and over, that you were just another victim of that suicide.

"Mark, I… I didn’t…" The lump in your throat made it impossible to speak, and neither did the tears that spilled from your eyes. "I’m not seeing Sebastian… I only love you…"

The words slipped from your lips automatically, but you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince Mark… or yourself.

He only shook his head, trying not to laugh at how pathetic and ridiculous you must have looked to him.

"If that’s what helps you sleep at night, keep lying to me. But if you really aren’t cheating on me with Vettel, I suppose I’ll have to see it for myself."

"Hey, Webber! Quit messing around with your girl and get over here! Didn’t you say you had something really important to discuss with us?"

Both of you turned toward Christian Horner, who was standing at the door of one of the makeshift offices. Through the window, you could see Helmut Marko buried in paperwork while marking something on his phone.

"Yeah, of course! I’m coming!"

You felt a wave of relief as Mark turned his back to you and walked away, without another word, without even saying goodbye, heading toward that room. You wanted to argue, to keep insisting that you had nothing going on with Seb, but you knew it was useless. Nothing you said would change Mark’s mind.

All you could do was stand there, staring at the door he had just walked through. You tried to peek through the window to see what that sudden meeting was about, one you had heard nothing about, but you gave up when your boyfriend suddenly glanced in your direction. He shot you a knowing smile before pulling the blinds closed.

"Shit…"

Your stomach twisted into knots as you turned around, aimlessly walking through the garage.

"You’re scrunching your nose. A lot, I’d say," a voice, too familiar, spoke in front of you.

If it hadn’t been for the German standing in your way, you would have walked right into him.

Why did Seb always show up when you needed him most?

Maybe because he knows how much you’re being hurt… and he was listening to the conversation as well.

No, that was impossible. He had probably just been waiting around in the garage until they told him he could do another test lap.

"You know I always scrunch my nose when I’m mad." Seb raised an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes. "He was talking shit about you, Seb."

"Talking shit about me? Or talking shit about you and blaming you for doing things with me that, by the way, we haven’t done?"

You hesitated. You didn’t know how to answer because, once again, he was right.

Mark knew exactly how to get into your head, how to manipulate you until you started doubting yourself. Meanwhile, Sebastian had somehow become your voice of reason when you felt like you were losing your mind.

"I feel like he thinks I feel too much, you know?" you admitted, dodging his question, dodging the conversation entirely. You didn’t want to talk about Mark. You just needed to get this off your chest. "Like I have some kind of savior complex…"

"Because you couldn’t save your mother," Vettel finished for you. You cursed yourself for letting him hear that part. "Jesus, Y/N, that’s complete bullshit. Not about your mom," he quickly corrected himself, stumbling over his words, "but him saying that. You just want to help people… maybe the way you wish someone had helped you."

"But you help me… My dad, my aunt, my uncle and, well, my sisters," you muttered. "But whatever. The point is, you try explaining to him that everything he says is complete bullshit."

"Honestly? I would if I thought it would do any good," he said. "But since I know he won’t change his mind, I’d rather not waste my time. I’d rather spend it with you."

You gave him a tired smile. Seb could tell you were trying to put on a brave face, just like you always did when things weren’t going well. At that moment, something deep inside him burned with the need to protect you from everything that hurt you.

That was how he had felt for the past few months, but he did his best not to show it, to try to ignore it… yet all he managed to do was make it grow larger and larger.

And that was exactly what scared him the most about yourself in that moment.

"Come on, let's go," was all he could say as, unlike Mark, Seb took your hand as if it were a delicate, breakable piece of porcelain.

"Where? The pretesting session is about to—"

"Fuck the pretesting session," he cut you off, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

Seb’s fingers intertwined with yours, and even though he wasn't entirely sure where to go or what to do, one thing was clear, he just wanted to get them out of there, far away from where Mark had once again treated you so badly.

As you crossed the paddock under the watchful eyes of some journalists, you ran into Britta Roeske, Seb’s PR manager and, in many ways, his savior… or even a second mother, depending on how someone looked at it.

The woman, perfectly dressed in her Red Bull uniform, wasn’t surprised to see you together, but she was surprised to see you that together. She couldn’t help but glance down at your still-intertwined hands and then back up at both of you, incredulous.

"Don’t you dare be late. Thirty minutes, Sebastian," was all she said.

"Seems like you don’t trust me," he answered with an innocent smile that, rather than a trick, seemed completely sincere.

"With her?" Roeske pointed at you, who merely shrugged and curled your lips into a small smile. "Not really, to be honest. Be careful and don’t do anything you’ll regret later."

Neither of you answered that, but you both knew exactly what she meant.

You continued walking in a comfortable silence around the circuit, getting further away from the paddock. Seb went along with what you jokingly called a "track walk rehearsal" until you reached a grandstand area. Once seated, you had a perfect view of the entire track.

"Thanks for everything," you murmured, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. Seb, on the other hand, draped an arm around your shoulders and, noticing how cold you were, took off his jacket and placed it over you.

"You don’t have to thank me. I hate seeing you like this. Out of all the people in the world who don’t deserve to feel this way, you’re at the top of the list."

Neither of you said anything else. You simply smiled and, for the first time all day, without fear, leaned against Seb’s chest. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pressed a kiss to your forehead and started playing with your hair as he always did.

"I don’t understand why he’s talking to Helmut and Horner," you broke the silence, sitting up slightly to look at Seb. "What could possibly be so important that they had to have a meeting today?"

"Yeah, I was wondering the same thing," he frowned. "To be honest, I don’t like it…"

"Do you think it’s about me?"

Vettel bit his lip at your question. He wanted to be honest with you, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make you worry more or overthink something that might end up being trivial.

"I don’t want to assume, but… Webber is the kind of guy who likes to control everything and, with that, do whatever it takes to stay in the spotlight," he commented, carefully choosing his words. "If he feels like he’s going to be the second driver again, like last season…" Seb hesitated before continuing, trying to find the right way to say it. "I don’t know, Y/N, maybe he just wants to twist the narrative to fit his paranoia."

He couldn’t lie to you. You didn’t deserve that.

You swallowed hard.

"Do you think he’s going to turn them against me?"

"I don’t know, but what I do know is that whatever he’s saying won’t change the fact that you belong to this team, that you belong to…"

My life, he thought without a shred of regret, but with too much fear to say it out loud.

"You’re smart, Y/N," he continued. "This is your second year with the team; your third with me. You know everyone here, and most of all, you know me perfectly. And if that wasn’t enough, you work harder than anyone, Rocky’s words, not mine, while also juggling university and taking care of your father and sisters."

"It’s just what I have to do…"

"If they don’t realize what an incredible person they have right in front of them, that’s their problem, not mine."

You lowered your gaze, unable to stop yourself from blushing.

"Why do you always know exactly what to say to make someone’s day better?"

"It’s not about making someone’s day better, Y/N. It’s just telling the truth about what an incredible person you are."

For the first time, you found the strength to look at Seb without feeling embarrassed. It felt… strange. You didn’t know what exactly, but you were sure that the way he spoke to you, the things he said, the way he looked at you…

It was as if Sebastian truly saw you as more than just a friend.

Once again, neither of you dared to speak.

Seb wanted to say a thousand things, but he knew it wasn’t the right moment. And when it came to you, you wanted to take things slowly, savoring every moment, and, most importantly, putting your well-being first.

You, on the other hand, had always seen him as your safe haven since you arrived at Toro Rosso in 2008. But now… it felt different. Maybe it was what you had been denying to yourself finally coming to the surface, the thing that had been there for about two years, back when Seb were still dating Hanna.

Maybe, the silence you were now sharing would, one day, turn into the confession neither of you had been brave enough to admit, to yourselves or to each other.

"Seb…"

"Come what may, okay?" Seb interrupted you gently, taking your hand and tracing small hearts on your skin. "Never forget it: I’ll be there, here, wherever… but with you. Come what may."

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A diferentes velocidades (Lando x Lectora)

Resumen: durante cierto evento de la FIA, el par de pilotos compartió una entrevista. Y desde ese momento, Lando se obsesionó con la mujer.

A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)
A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)
A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)

Masterlist de mi autoría

A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)

~¿Yo? Apuesto por Red Bull. Se desarrollaron mejor en la última carrera.~

~Pero yo soy mejor, saqué el mejor tiempo. 1 minuto y 12 segundos... ¿No te parece bueno?~

~Depende en qué ámbito y contexto... ¿No te parece? Puede parecer... poquito.~

La manera en que el rostro de Lando se tornó rojo en un segundo fue un meme y suceso destacable del ámbito a partir de ese momento. Sumado a los masajes de Amsterdam, la sonrisa y rostro carmesí de Norris fueron patrimonio nacional entre sus fanáticos, quienes no tardaron en hacer miles de edits con la escena.

Si... Fue una locura.

Y ____ no esperaba que fuera para tanto.

La piloto de rally coincidió con Norris en el enorme hall del evento, y por pura gentileza accedió a la entrevista pedida por cierta periodista. No esperaba tal revuelo por tan bobalicón comentario.

El Motorsport Games de la FIA llevaba solo unos pocos años en el mapa, apenas se estaba acercando a la popularidad media. Y la mujer tenía los patrocinadores justos y necesarios para sustentar su lugar. Ahora le llovían interesados.

Y no solo patrocinadores.

A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)

~Se te vio en las gradas de la última carrera ¿No conseguiste acceso al paddock incluso ganando el oro el viernes?~

~Nos discriminan a los de mi categoría. FIA, dame el gusto ¿Si?~____ rió apenas~. Es broma, la verdad no solicité nada... Esperemos que si Checo ve esto, me invite a su palco. Sería un honor.~

~¿Y... Si McLaren ofrece un lugar?~

~... ¿Oscar sería tan considerado?~fingió confusión, pero no tardó en sonreír~... La verdad es que desde aquel día no volví a hablar con Lando, fue algo del momento y ya. Temo arruinar nuestros shippeos para los fans de Tik Tok.~ Se encogió de hombros divertida.

Se equivocaba.

El fin de semana anterior, Lando estuvo al completo pendiente de la mujer.

Puede que no entendiera mucho de la categoría donde ella estaba, pero con tal de verla y saber más de ella, se mantuvo bastante entretenido.

—Es por tiempo, pero Sprint... O algo asi.—

—... ¿Estuviste toda la tarde mirando eso?—

Oscar llegó al departamento casi de noche, encontrándose a Lando en el salón común, mirando la última carrera, donde ____ salió campeona.

—____ ganó... Con una diferencia de media hora.—señaló sonriente la pantalla, donde la mujer se quitaba el casco agitada, dejándolo en el techo del auto—. Mírala... Es tan atractiva que volvería loco a cualquiera.—

—¿Esto fue ayer no? Deberías mandarle un mensaje, felicitarla.—la sonrisa de Lando se desvaneció.

—No.—

—¿Qué? ¿por qué?... No me digas que te da pena, justo a ti.—

El chico no dijo nada, solo se limitó a seguir mirando el televisor.

____ subía al techo de su auto junto a su copiloto, alzando la bandera de México con una sonrisa radiante pese al cansancio.

Lando no duraría mucho más manteniéndose lejos.

La mañana de ____ empezó como cualquier otra ese viernes, con la única -e interesante- diferencia de un sobre en su correspondencia.

—... No me digas que es lo que creo que es.—

____ le mostró a Lucas, su copiloto, el pase para el paddock de ese fin de semana. Era para el sector de McLaren.

—Parece que Norris te tuvo en cuenta al final.—

La mujer se sorprendió por el gesto, pero no tardó en sonreír.

—Ella está aquí, la vi en el salón general.—

—¿Quién?—

—____.—

Lando se levantó enseguida del sofá, mirando a Oscar como si le hubiese dado la mejor noticia del año.

—¿Dónde?—

—En el salón general... ¿Estás bien?—

—Iré a saludar.—caminó hacia la puerta, pero se congeló antes de abrirla—... No, mejor no.—

—... ¿Sabes algo? Hace mucho no veía a éste Lando nervioso e inseguro. No lo extrañaba.—Oscar lo vio dar unos brincos en el lugar, dándose valor—. Solo ve y di hola, no es tan dificil.—

—Para ti es fácil decirlo.—

—Pues si, a mi no me gusta ni me da miedo.—

Lando estaba por negar aquello, cuando unos toques en la puerta los interrumpió.

Si el chico ya estaba bastante exaltado por la situación, ver a la mujer ahí de pie le explotó la cabeza.

—Oh, que bueno encontrarte. Llevo buscándote un buen rato.—la chica sonrió enseguida.

—¿Me... Buscabas?—

—Pues sí, para agradecerte.—____ alzó el carnet VIP—. Gracias, Lando. Todo es genial por aquí... Para nada el ámbito del rally.—

—¿Extrañas el polvo y el calor?—Oscar llamó su atención. ____ rió entre dientes.

—Para nada, Oscar... Es un placer conocerte, por cierto.—Lo vio sonreír. ____ volvió su atención a Lando, quien parecía paralizado—... ¿Estás bien?—

—Si. Muy bien. Excelente... Que bueno que viniste, digo, que hayas aceptado las entradas... Para venir a apoyarnos.—sonrió nervioso.

—Oye oye, más despacio.—____ señaló su gorra de Red Bull—. Checo sigue siendo mi favorito.—

—... ¿Algún requisito en específico para que uses una gorra mía al menos por hoy?—

Lando se animó a decir aquello, sin saber bien cómo lo tomaría la mujer. Sintió burbujas en el estómago al verla sonreír.

—Si me regalas una y la firmas... Podría considerar ser tu fan, solo por hoy.—el rostro del hombre se iluminó.

A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)

Lando le sonreía a la nada leyendo los comentarios de aquella publicación.

Los fanáticos dejaban volar su imaginación con aquel posteo, y el piloto disfrutaba de los delirios ficticios de todos.

Después de la carrera, Lando no tuvo oportunidad de buscar a la mujer, quien tuvo que irse temprano por su agenda. Al otro día empezaba otro circuito para ella también.

Pero aún así, recibió un mensaje que le alegró la noche.

—¿Te estás mensajeando con ella?—Lando enfocó la mirada en su compañero, quien dormitaba en el sofá contrario—. La cara de tonto te delata.—

—Pidió disculpas por irse antes... Y nos felicita por haber ganado los primeros puestos... Dice que le gustaría volver a vernos, cenar juntos o algo asi.—

—O sea que quiere verme a mi también, no es que tú le gustes.—

—Disfrutas sabotear mis ilusiones ¿Verdad?—

—No son ilusiones, creo que a estas alturas, todo el mundo sabe que podría haber algo.—

Por si no fuera ya un bombazo ver a la mujer en el paddock usando la gorra de Lando, ver al McLaren en Egipto celebrando la reciente victoria de la mujer terminó de explotar entre los fanáticos.

—Somos tendencia, compañero.—

Lando miró a la mujer entrar al restaurante, usando un vestido demasiado provocador para su gusto. Lo amó.

—¿Y cómo no serlo? Llevamos todo el día provocando en redes.—la miró sentarse frente a él—. Estas muy linda... Imposible imaginar que hace unas horas estabas cubierta de arena... y también estabas muy linda.—la escuchó reír.

—Gustos extraños los tuyos... Es como si yo admitiera que adoro verte al final de las carreras agitado y sudado.—alzó las cejas con burla.

—Pues a mi si me gusta verte agitada y sudada después de las carreras...—

El par de pilotos comenzó a meterse en terreno peligroso...

A Diferentes Velocidades (Lando X Lectora)
3 months ago

hi!! i love your hybrid aus so muuuch

could you do one with Max who has a high maintenance cat hybrid? she’s a picky eater, likes pretty and expensive clothes, not dirtying her fur, things like that :)

i love this!

cw: HYBRID!reader

Hi!! I Love Your Hybrid Aus So Muuuch

"sorry, angel," max mumbled as he placed your plate down in front of you.

a frown crossed your face as you looked down at your dinner. brandishing your knife and fork, you poked at your dinner. "what... is it?" you asked, pulling your cutlery away from the food.

"what is it?" max echoed, staring across the table. "salad and soup. you used to love salmon and soup."

a scoff left your lips, your tail moving from side to side. "yeah, when i first came to live with you." when you pushed your soup away, it splashed onto the table. "where's my salmon?"

you weren't always fussy. when max first took you in off the streets, you scrambled to eat anything he put in front of you. your clothes had been tattered and dirt back then, not pretty like what you wore now.

"i couldn't get your salmon," he mumbled, reaching over the table to take your hand. "sorry, kitten."

you pulled your hand out of his grip and stood up. with a huff, you turned on your heel and marched away from the dining table. "kitten!" max called after you, but he was gone. he was lucky you didn't throw your soup all over the floor.

hiding in his bed, your tail flicked. you weren't happy, not in the slightest. was your salmon too much to ask for? you didn't think so. if he loved you, he'd go out and get your salmon.

no, that wasn't fair. you knew he loved you, you were just being bratty.

your ears twitched as the bedroom door opened. "kitten," he mumbled and sat on the end of the bed. "talk to me."

pulling the blanket from over your head, you pouted at him. "i want my salmon," you mumbled. but your tail, the indicator of how you were feeling, was still.

"you want your salmon?" he asked as opened his arms.

you nodded as you crawled into his lap. your head was tucked against his neck as you pawed at his shirt, at his chest. maybe if you acted cute enough, you would get everything you wanted.

max released a sigh and threw his head back. "okay, fine," he mumbled and kissed the top of your head. "go get your coat on."

your eyes lit up. "are we gonna get salmon?"

"yes, kitten. we're gonna get salmon."

2 years ago

Reblog if you’re bisexual, support bisexual people or are actually a bunch of tiny velociraptors in a human suit

2 years ago

10. Alguno se enferma

ao3

Naeve camino de manera sigilosa por los pasillos iluminados por velas, entre sus brazos una pequeña bola de pelos se asomaba aunque sus ojos lastimados no le permitían ver mucho estaba tan agotado que no podía defenderse. Lo último que quería la joven era lastimarlo. Entró a su habitación en silencio esperando que nadie estuviera adentro. 

La bolita de pelos hizo un pequeño maullido. 

—Shh, prometo limpiarte y curarte, solo espera un poco—susurro Naeve hacia el bollo que cargaba. 

—¿Con quién hablas?—una voz hizo que la joven se congelara, su esposo, la persona que menos quería ver en esta situación.

—Estaba hablando sola—respondió Naeve sin darse la vuelta, e intentó distraer al pelinegro—¿Cómo te fue hoy? ¿Hiciste algo interesante?

Kylo se dirigio hacia el sofá de la habitación, los pasos pausados hicieron que quisiera salir corriendo. Estaba segura que si su esposo descubria que había traido un pequeño animalito, sucio y lastimado lo mandaría directo con los curanderos y ella nunca lo volvería a ver. 

—Solo estuve entrenando, fue un día muy caluroso y los chicos estaban muy vagos, realmente me agotan cuando toma esa actitud—contó Kylo sacándose las botas—Por cierto, ¿que tienes en los brazos? 

Naeve se dio la vuelta y con una sonrisa. 

—¿Esto? Es una manta. Justo estaba por mandarla a lavar—explicó mostrando una punta, su habitación era una zona insegura para el gato, por lo que decidió que lo mejor era dejar al minino en el baño de invitados y de paso ir a buscar los elementos necesarios para limpiarlo y curarlo.  

—Naeve, ¿que está bajo la manta? 

Kylo detuvo a la joven, agarrándola por la muñeca quien bufo. 

—¿No puedes al menos fingir que no te das cuenta de algo? 

Kylo se paró y cruzó los brazos. 

—No, no puedo fingir cuando se que algo está mal y menos si se trata de ti—Naeve frunció el ceño—¿Es un animal? ¿Te ha lastimado?

Kylo intentó tocar el bollo temblando en sus brazos pero Naeve se alejó. 

—No hay nada mal conmigo, tampoco estoy lastimada—camino hacia el baño privado y cerró la puerta con su pie, sin embargo el pelinegro ni siquiera dejó que la puerta golpeara e interrumpio en el baño. Apoyo el bollo en el piso y desenvolvio las mantas, el mínino estaba temblando y también sus ojos llorosos lastimados estaban cristalizados. A Naeve se le rompió el corazón. 

—Amor, si está lastimado es mejor que lo lleves… 

—Kylo, si pretendes que devuelva este gato sin estar antes sano, te recomiendo salir de la habitación antes de que me enoje en serio—por los siguientes minuto solo se escucho el agua que corría en la bañera, los quejido del gatito que con un paño húmedo Naeve intentaba limpiar y los consuelos de la joven.

—Ya, ya. No te preocupes, pequeñín. Te cuidare. 

Cuando el baño terminó, la bola de pelos estaba maullando y tratando de subirse a los brazos de la joven, quien no dudó en abrazarlo dándole besitos en la cabecita. El pelaje del animal estaba limpio y las heridas que tenía no eran tan profundas como pensó. Ya era de noche cuando salió del baño, Kylo estaba en el sofá leyendo algunos papeles y levantó la mirada cuando noto la presencia de Naeve. Sin embargo esta ni siquiera le correspondió, y agarró uno de sus pijamas de verano doblandolo y poniéndolo bajo su brazo, justo al pequeño minino quien cuando noto la tela tan exquisita decidió que seria el juguete perfecto para morder.

—Naeve… 

—Dormire en la habitación de invitados, si necesitas algo…

—Naeve, no es necesario—habló Kylo dejando los papeles a un lado—El gato… puede dormir aquí. 

La joven se detuvo. 

—¿En serio?—el pelinegro asintió—Bien… 

Sinceramente Kylo pensaba deshacerse del gato apenas estuviera en condiciones de ser adoptado; no quería animales, nunca había tenido deseos de ello. Pero Naeve se veía tan linda cuidando de esa bola de pelos que se arrepintio de sus pensamientos. 

Fue asi, como Naeve y Kylo, tuvieron a su primera mascota juntos. 


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2 years ago
—voy Hacer Este Reto Con Mis OC's, Esto Es Parte Del Desarrollo De Su Creación Así Que Sus Personalidades

—voy hacer este reto con mis OC's, esto es parte del desarrollo de su creación así que sus personalidades no son muy complejas. además de que no pertenecen al mundo omegaverse.


Tags
5 months ago

Okay requests are open! I can't promise I will make them 'cause I didnt write this year (I love and hate uni) But I kinda want to do it sooo

open to: charles leclerc, carlos sainz, and franco x lando (as a shipp) (I CANNOT STAND THAT THERE ARE NOT FICS OF THEM)


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4 months ago

Surgery

Surgery

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Ex! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

 ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Seb and her didn’t part on the best terms. The breakup had been tense, marked by unspoken words and lingering hurt. She’d moved forward, focusing on her career, he did the same, but some connections never fully disappeared.

Recently, she’d undergone a surgical procedure, something personal she’d chosen to keep private. Only her family and closest friends were in the loop. Yet, somehow, Sebastian had found out through a mutual friend.

The operation had gone smoothly, and now she was resting in her recovery room. Her family and a few friends had been with her all afternoon, their quiet conversation filling the space. She was sitting up, sipping some water and trying to distract herself with their chatter, when there was a knock on the door.

Her best friend opened it, and there he was—Sebastian. He stepped inside with a small bouquet of various flowers in hand, his expression steady but thoughtful.

“Hey,” he said gently, his eyes scanning her for signs of discomfort.

Her family exchanged a few glances before politely excusing themselves to give them some privacy. Seb approached slowly, setting the flowers on the table beside her.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said, though her voice carried no resentment.

“I know,” he replied, sitting in the chair beside her. “I just… I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay.”

She studied him, his calm demeanor making the moment feel less like an intrusion and more like a quiet reunion. “How did you even know?”

“Emma told me,” he admitted, leaning forward slightly. “I wasn’t going to bother you, but… I figured it couldn’t hurt to stop by.”

She nodded, not knowing what to say. He was the last person she would expect, yet for some reason she felt pleased about him caring about her enough to come. 

“So… How are you feeling?” he asked, breaking the almost uncomfortable silence that had been settling.

“I’m feeling fine,” she admitted, as she did not feel any extraordinary discomfort after the surgery, “you guys act as if I’ve been through war,” she joked, hoping to make the moment less awkward.

His lips tugged into a half-smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. It was a classic move of hers, this bantering, and it was both endearing and annoying at the same time. “Oh, you know we worry about you,” he teased back.

Sebastian glanced at the flowers he'd brought, then back at her. His voice lowered a bit. “Seriously, though, are you in pain?”

“I’m fine, Seb,” she repeated with almost playful exasperation.

Sebastian nodded, his expression warm but attentive. “Okay, okay,” he conceded, smiling. Then, as if on instinct, his hand reached out, brushing hers gently.

It was such a natural gesture—Seb had always been tactile, a comforting presence for anyone who needed it. But this felt different, even if he hadn’t meant it to be. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she froze for a moment, the familiarity of his touch stirring something in her chest she wasn’t ready to unpack.

Seb adjusted his position in the chair, as if trying to find the right words. “It’s a nice hospital,” he remarked, glancing around the room. “Bright, not too clinical. It suits you.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you seriously complimenting the decor right now?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Maybe. Just trying to make conversation.”

His thumb lingered against her skin for a second too long, and she swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was despite the chair between them. “Seb, you didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice quieter now. “You’ve got your own life—things to focus on.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening further. “I’m not here because I have to be. I’m here because I care,” he said simply. “That doesn’t just disappear.”

Her heart gave a painful twist at his words. His words always had that effect, no matter how much time had passed or what they were or weren’t. “You always did have a way with words,” she murmured, trying to deflect the emotions creeping in.

He smiled faintly, his hand still resting over hers. “And you always did have a way of avoiding them,” he replied.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips, and for a moment, the tension eased. “Touché,” she said, her voice lighter.

They sat there for a beat, the sound of distant footsteps in the hallway filling the silence. It wasn’t the awkward tension of earlier—it felt… familiar. Comfortable in a way she hadn’t expected.

Seb’s fingers gave hers a gentle squeeze before he leaned back slightly, as if he could sense she needed space. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice steady but soft.

“Thanks,” she said, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “And thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

“I figured you deserved something nice,” he said, leaning back in his chair but still watching her closely. “Even if you think we’re all overreacting.”

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, a teasing spark in her eyes.

“Hey, give me a break,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I had to make sure you weren’t scaring the nurses with your stubbornness.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Still as dramatic as ever, I see.”

“Only for you,” he quipped, and for a moment, the weight of the past seemed lighter between them.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: English is not my first language, and I hope you liked it <3

4 months ago

Retirement and a Failed Proposal

Retirement And A Failed Proposal

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

✯ pairing: Sebastian Vettel x Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

She and Seb had a history—complicated, very complicated. Both now retired drivers, both multiple-time world champions, both stubborn, both competitive, both once lovers, both once rivals, both once acquaintances, and both lovers once again. She had just retired, and it was that, the culmination of her F1 career, that almost signified the end of her dispute with Seb. And she hadn't forgotten him, at all. And he hadn't forgotten her, at all. He was two years retired by now. It was picking things up from the sparks, not the ashes. 

The stars above seemed impossibly bright, their reflection shimmering across the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. The sailboat rocked softly beneath you, a quiet rhythm to the vast stillness around. She was leaned back against Seb’s chest, his arms loosely wrapped around her as the two of them sat on the deck.

It had been a peaceful evening, just the two of them, reminiscing and sharing moments that felt suspended in time. His presence was so natural, as if those years of tension, heartbreak, and rivalry had never been.

Sebastian shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You know,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant, “these past few months have felt… different. Like I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She smiled softly, turning her head to look at him. “You’re not too bad for a washed-up driver,” she teased, earning a quiet laugh from him.

But then his expression changed, the humor fading into something more serious, more intense. “I mean it,” he said, his eyes locked onto hers. “For years, I tried to move on, to convince myself that I didn’t miss you, that I didn’t need you. And then you retired, and it felt like the universe was giving us another chance. And now, I don’t want to waste it.”

She blinked, her heart skipping as he gently untangled himself from she and reached into his pocket.

“Seb…” she started, but the words caught in her throat as he pulled out a small velvet box.

He opened it, revealing a simple yet stunning ring that glinted under the starlight.

“I know this might seem fast,” he said, his voice steady despite the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “But I’ve known for a long time what I want. It’s you. It’s always been you. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. The love she felt for him was undeniable, and being with him again felt like coming home, the home she's been away from for too long. But it had only been three months since they’d reconnected, since you’d started to rebuild something from the sparks that had never really died.

“Seb,” she said softly, her hands reaching for his. “I… I love you. I love she so much. But this feels rushed. It’s been three months. We’re still finding our footing again.”

His expression faltered slightly, but he nodded, listening intently.

“I want to be with you,” she continued, “but we’ve been through so much. I don’t want to jump into something this big without being sure we’re ready. We owe it to ourselves to do this right.”

Seb exhaled slowly, a small, understanding smile tugging at his lips. He closed the box and set it aside, taking her hands in his.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I got ahead of myself. It’s just… being with you again feels so right, so easy, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she assured him, squeezing his hands. “We have time, Seb. Let’s take it.”

He nodded, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. “Okay. No pressure, no rushing. Just us.”

“Just us,” she repeated, a smile breaking through.

The stars continued to shine above, the sea calm beneath, and as Seb pulled her into a warm embrace, she felt the weight of the moment lift. The ring could wait; her love wasn’t going anywhere.

Seb pulled her closer, resting his chin atop her head as the two of she sat in the embrace of the quiet night. His arms wrapped securely around you, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cool sea breeze.

After a moment of silence, his voice broke through, low and teasing. “Alright, no wedding yet. But… what about a child?”

She tilted her head back to look at him, narrowing her eyes. His lips were curved into that familiar, mischievous grin that always made her heart flutter, even when she wanted to roll her eyes.

“Sebastian,” she said, a warning laced in her tone, though her lips twitched with amusement.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence, his grin widening. “I mean, if marriage is too rushed, surely we could—”

She cut him off with a soft nudge to his side, eliciting a laugh from him.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“But you love me,” he shot back, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

She let out a small huff, her mock exasperation melting into a soft smile. “Yes, I do. But don’t push your luck, Vettel.”

Seb chuckled, pulling her closer again. “Fine, fine. No babies, no weddings. Just us.”

“Exactly,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “Just us. For now.”

His arms tightened around her as the sailboat swayed gently, the night wrapping around the two of them like a cocoon. And at that moment, with the stars above and the calm sea below, it felt like enough.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

✯ authors note: This is my very first fic!!! English is not my first language and the story is a lil corny, I know. I hope you liked it <333

2 years ago

Challenge de Escritura

Challenge De Escritura

05. Se reencuentran (AU)

por si quieres leerlo en ao3

En el castillo, una preocupación general rodeaba a sus habitantes. La guerra contra el país del Sur ya había empezado hace más de dos meses, y la ausencia del Rey era un tema que Naeve intentaba manejar con una sonrisa en la cara. 

Era de un buen conocimiento que el Rey era el mejor guerrero, y que por ello, sus soldados también eran de los mejores. Sin embargo, no importa que tan buenos sean; la guerra es la guerra y siempre hay caídos. 

Naeve confiaba en las habilidades de Kylo, confiaba en que volvería, con algunas heridas pero volvería. Fue un día lluvioso cuando las noticias llegaron, de que habían ganado la guerra y de que preparen las unidades de sanación. 

Solo fueron tres días a esto, de que un bullicio llegó con el atardecer y los soldados aparecieron. Naeve organizó la entrada, y los heridos mientras llegaban fueron llevados a sanación, la pelea había sido ruda, las heridas eran profundas pero sólo hubo tres guerreros perdidos en batalla. 

Naeve no tuvo tiempo a preocuparse, no hasta que todos los heridos estuvieron acostados y medianamente estables. Eran tardes de la madrugada cuando Naeve finalmente pudo preguntar por su esposo. Aunque nadie supo darle una respuesta. 

Con un pánico en el pecho, buscó por los jardines, por las unidades de heridos, el establo y las habitaciones de los soldados, que los pocos que no habían sido heridos la recibieron con sorpresa, aunque tampoco pudieron darle una exactitud de donde se encontraba Kylo. 

Decidió calmarse, respirar e ir a cambiar su ropa manchada por la sangre. Casi nadie se encontraba en el castillo, sino estaban ayudando a los soldados, estaban preparando la comida para darles. Su cuerpo se sentía pesado, tenía ganas de llorar pero era la Reina, no podía permitirse deprimirse cuando su pueblo estaba luchando por mantenerse. Entró a la habitación deseando verse a sí misma dormida y darse cuenta que todo esto era un sueño, sabía que no lo era. 

Y esto fue claro cuando dentro, sentado en la cama y gimiendo de dolor se encontraba Kylo, quién intentó pararse y ocultar su cuerpo tapado por la sangre. Heridas profundas en toda su espalda. 

—Amor—Naeve corrió hacia su lugar, y sin siquiera prestar atención a otra cosa que no fuera Kylo. Intentó tocar su hombro sin embargo antes de que siquiera pudiera ver bien la herida, Kylo se paró tapándose con su camisa negra—¡¿Qué haces?! Estás lastimado, hay que limpiarlo…

—No hay problema, no duele—mintió alejándose del tacto de su esposa y en cambio ponerse a su frente besando su sien—No te acuestes aún, cambiaré las sábanas. 

—Kylo—la joven se sorprendió de lo seca y dura que salió su voz, pero su esposo no se detuvo de buscar las frazadas. 

—¿Si, mi amor?

—Acuéstate ahora mismo, o consideraré nuestro divorcio. 

El hombro se congeló, y se sentó en la cama sin rechistar. Naeve se acercó a él sacándole la camisa con descontento. Reviso la herida, llegaba desde el hombro hasta la parte baja de la espalda, la piel estaba abierta y la sangre no dejaba de chorrear. ¿Cómo siquiera podía fingir que no le dolía cuando de solo verlo a ella le daba escalofríos? 

—Iré a buscar vendas y alcohol, espera aquí. 

—Amor, no es necesario…—intento decir Kylo con una sonrisa. Pero a Naeve le dolía el corazón. 

—No digas una palabra más. 

Tan pronto como la joven se fue, el pelinegro suspiró queriendo dormir por tres días, abrazado a su esposa. Esta situación… Era molesta. Cuando volvió, Naeve sacó el algodón y limpió la herida sin decirle una palabra. Kylo aguantó quejidos de dolor y cuando su herida empezó a ser cubierta por las vendas, notó los ojos dolidos de Naeve. Era tan estupido. 

—Gracias. 

—¿Tienes hambre?—Naeve se paró tirando los algodones sucios. Negó y llamó a la chica por su nombre. 

—Lo siento. 

Silencio. Y de repente los sollozos se hicieron presentes. 

—Maldita sea, Kylo. Ni te imaginas lo preocupada que estaba—Naeve tapó su cara con sus manos—¿Porque no fuiste a una unidad de sanación? Nadie sabía dónde estabas, ni cómo. 

—Lo siento, en serio, simplemente quería estar aquí… contigo—sonrió—y descansar. 

Kylo agarró sus manos, y apoyo su cabeza ahí. Naeve se soltó haciendo que su esposo levantara la mirada, acarició su pelo y besó su nariz. 

—Te extrañé muchísimo, Kylo. 

—Yo también mi amor. 


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prttylight - chloé
chloé

writer—s!her ≀ 🇦🇷

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