Sebastian Vettel - Blog Posts

fuck new regulations

Can u pls write a Sebastian x reader where even she is a driver and they take turns taking each other on hot laps and reader has more titles than seb so she teases him that she is the better driver

SV5 ★ better driver

★ thx for the request, it was super fun to write. sorry if its too short. ★ Sebastian Vettel x FemaleDriver!Reader

There were rare moments when Seb and you would talk about racing. probably you two talked more about the carrots growing in your garden than about the championship. In your intimacy, you two rarely felt like racers since in privacy you were just a couple talking about books, their garden, politics without differentiating themselves too much from other couples (just a few championships on your shoulders). 

However, today was different. The night before you and Seb had fallen asleep in your hotel room while watching your previous championships, making your egos sky high as soon as the day began. Competitiveness was the main theme; who brushed their teeth the fastest (it was you), who made the best coffee (Seb according to your colleagues), and the competitions continued to increase until it got to the critical point that really mattered. Races. You started by warming up the tires, slow and Seb looked at you in the rearview mirror. He advanced first. And when his first lap was about to end, you started up. 

His first number was good but you knew he was going to improve as the track was still cold. Your first lap was not your best and you could not overcome him, you slightly hit the steering wheel.  Imagining Seb's cocky smile only made you feel more ambitious to beat him. Feeling the pressure of speed in your body could not match the tingles of happiness that invaded your body when you beat his record.  It was almost an hour in which you were outdoing each other and when you finished the sun was setting. The tips of your lips lifted when you saw him take off his helmet. Both of your hair was wet with sweat and Seb pressed his lips together when he saw you approaching. You had won the last lap by almost a second of difference with him and although he was annoyed, deep down he enjoyed seeing you win. 

You pulled your racing suits down to your waists and drank water as you tried to pull yourselves together. You looked sideways at Seb and he was already looking at you, your cheeks turned pink but you quickly recovered your normal state. 

“Seb I know you tried hard today” you paused to smile “but I think at the end of the day, I'm better.” 

The silence after your statement was broken by your partner's laughter. 

“Don't laugh, it's true,” you exclaimed as you pushed him, “I won today, not only in the race but also in everything else!”.

Suddenly, Seb became serious and slid his hand around your waist, your throat went dry and the heat on your face returned.  

“You're right liebling, you're better” Seb left a kiss on your cheek and as soon as he moved away from your skin he added “However, you can never beat me at...Flirting with you”. 

Seb's smile dominated your head but when the meaning of his words came to your understanding, you pushed him back. But you couldn't deny it, it was true. Seb always made you feel nervous. That was love. 

I love journaling so much my fav moment of the day. but I definitely need f1 stickers ☠️ I WANT PHOTOS OF CARLOS AND SEB 🤍😩

tyy to all the people who send me their request im writing them! slow but im writing! please have in consideration that english is not my first language so sometimes I write my fics in spanish and then I rewrite in english BUT TY SO MUCH FOR THE REQUESTS

gosh I really want to write something for seb or carlos BUT I DONR HAVE ANY IDEAS HELP ME requests are open!!

⊹ pretty pretty list

🫕 Searching Mutuals !

argentina + español 🇦🇷

learning english and french

Requests: Open! ( f1: carlos sainz, lando norris x franco colapinto, seb vettel )

tap more to mastelist

──── ୨ৎ ────

Formula 1

— Charles Leclerc

⊹ Death and Kisses

⊹ Love in sickness and wins

— Carlos Sainz

⊹ Destino

— Sebastian Vettel

⊹ Better driver

Star Wars

— Anakin Skywalker

⊹ Reader Doesn't Eat Properly

⊹ Someone Tried to Rape Reader

⊹ Someone Tried to Rape Reader Part. 2

⊹ Shy Reader

⊹ Home

— Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

⊹ Writing Challenge (01 AU)

Hi can I pls request a Sebastian Vettel x reader where he and reader were teamates back in the day now are married reader has won many championships and seb is now her wag.... Attends the races with the kids etc.

U r bloody amazing luv, ur fics r brilliant!!!!!!!

♪ — 𝗪𝗔𝗚𝗢𝗡 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 sebastian vetteln x wife! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . You started out chasing the dream with him by your side—racing, rising, falling into something more. Now, the world watches you shine, but his eyes have always seen you brightest (1.3k words)

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests )

You never thought you'd be the one still racing.

And you definitely never thought he'd be the one on the sidelines.

But maybe, if you really look back, the signs were always there—quiet and golden, tucked into late-night debriefs and lingering glances in the Red Bull garage. You and Seb were teammates back then. Just teammates.

Except… not just. Not when the eye contact lasted a little too long after qualifying.

Not when his laugh cracked open something warm in your chest.

Not when the two of you took the podium by storm, spraying champagne with the kind of reckless joy that felt like forever.

You did everything together—test days, press conferences, summer breaks. You learned each other’s tells before you learned your own. And somewhere in between fighting for fastest laps and stealing bites of each other's desserts, you fell in love.

Fast-forward to now: you’re not just together. You’re married married.

House in Switzerland. Shoes by the door. Kids who’ve inherited both your curls and his stubbornness. He still smells like warm leather and hotel shampoo and something soft you can’t name—but now, it’s wrapped in the domestic comfort of someone who knows where your favorite hoodie is and folds your race suit when you forget.

You always thought you'd retire together. After all, your careers were twined like vines from the beginning—Seb and Yn. Yn and Seb. Champions. Icons.

But after he bowed out—graceful and grinning and a little emotional—life changed fast. You took a year off to have the twins, certain that this was your new finish line. Your body was different. Your priorities shifted. The fire was still there, but quieter, buried beneath lullabies and late-night feeds.

You remember telling him—softly, almost like a confession—“I think I’m done.”

And he just looked at you across the kitchen, cradling a baby in one arm and making coffee with the other, and said:

“You should go win a fourth. And a fifth. I’ll take care of the twins.”

And just like that, the dream flickered back to life.

So you did.

You returned to the grid like a comet, burning hotter than before. Won your fourth title with spitfire precision and a mother’s patience. Your fifth with a calm kind of fury that made pundits whisper you might be the greatest of all time. Meanwhile, Seb packed snacks, braided hair, helped the kids paint glittery signs with "GO MUM GO!" in messy, proud scrawls.

Sometimes reporters still ask if he misses it. The competition. The adrenaline. The roar of the crowd. He always smiles, eyes tracking you from pit wall to podium.

“Not as much as I love watching her win.”

Because now he’s the one in the paddock with a baby strapped to his chest and a juice box in his back pocket, grinning when your name lights up on the timing screen. He holds your helmet like it’s holy. He’s first to clap when you step onto the podium and first to kiss you behind closed doors, murmuring, “My champion.”

You never thought you'd be the one still racing.

But here you are—five stars next to your name. A garage full of trophies. And a husband who was once your fiercest rival… now your fiercest supporter. Still yours. Always yours.

And he's never missed a race.

Your race weekend starts like always—with him kissing the back of your neck as you zip up your fireproof suit, his touch warm and grounding, like the sun peeking through a cold garage. The kiss isn’t rushed or showy. It’s gentle, familiar. A ritual older than your kids but still new enough to make your pulse stutter.

“Win today,” he whispers against your skin, voice low and smiling. “But don’t forget, we’ve got pasta night after.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow like he’s not being painfully obvious.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you miss Italian catering,” you reply, grinning as you tap the tip of his nose.

He shrugs like a man who knows he’s been caught but doesn’t mind one bit. You catch a flash of silver in his beard that wasn’t there last season, and it hits you all over again how lucky you are. That he chose this. Chose you.

Your oldest, Leo, is already at your side, tugging at your glove with eager hands and wide eyes. He holds up his homemade flag with the pride of someone who’s just revealed a masterpiece—“GO MUM GO” scrawled in chaotic, glitter-glued glory. It's crooked and smeared and perfect. You crouch to kiss the crown of his head, feeling his curls bounce under your lips.

The twins are seated on the pit wall, feet swinging as they bicker in loud, animated whispers about who has the cooler paddock pass—yours, obviously, or Uncle Charles’s. You don’t even have to weigh in. Your pass glows crimson with five little stars etched under your name. Their mother: the reigning champ.

Seb hoists the baby onto his hip like it’s second nature, the way he once handled steering wheels and gear shifts. One arm around a toddler, the other adjusting the straps on a mini backpack shaped like a race car. He’s dressed in casual neutrals, ball cap low over his eyes, but the moment the cameras spot him—something shifts. There’s a pause, a flicker of awe. The four-time world champion, the legend, now better known as your husband.

And you swear—every single time—you see it in their faces: respect, nostalgia, and then something softer. Because while the world remembers the fearless Red Bull driver who conquered the world, you know this version of him is even more heroic.

He’s the man who makes your pre-race playlist. Who tells bedtime stories in three languages. Who wipes glitter off the baby's face and still manages to wave at the fans with a grin that hasn’t changed since 2010.

And when your name lights up on the timing screen in P1, he cheers loudest—arms raised, baby bouncing, heart bursting. The cameras always catch him. But you? You only ever look for him.

Because in a sport that never stops moving, he is your still point. Your home. And his favorite title these days?

Mr. Five-Time World Champion’s Husband.

Your race weekend ends like this: helmet off, hair damp, heart thundering under your suit. The roar of the crowd is still fading when you see them—your team already crushing you in hugs, radios buzzing with congratulations, and then them. Your whole world, running toward you like the final straight at Suzuka.

Seb reaches you first, with the twins hot on his heels, their little arms waving and voices high and breathless.

You open your arms wide, wide enough for all three of them to fit inside, and they do—like they always do.

You press a kiss to the top of each messy-haired head, and then to Seb—longer, deeper. The kind of kiss that steals time. The kind that says you did it again, and thank you for holding the fort, and I love you more than winning.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, just like he did when you first met, and laughs—eyes bright with nothing but pride.

“Still the fastest one in the family,” he says.

“Always will be,” you wink.

Later, when you climb the podium—champagne still misting off your suit, the sun dipping low behind the paddock, gold spilling across the sky like someone knew you’d win—you look down and spot him.

He’s grinning like the day he first won Monza. That wide, boyish smile that once lit up entire circuits. But this time, you’re the one standing up there, drenched in champagne and glory. And he’s not holding a trophy—he’s holding your kids. Both of them balanced on his hips, fists pumping the air, chanting your name like it’s the only word they’ve ever learned.

Five stars glitter next to your name now. One husband who never let your light dim. Two kids who think you hung the moon.

Not bad for a girl who started out in his shadow.

Now he lives in yours—and he loves the view.

hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏

COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.

Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.

So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.

Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.

She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.

She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.

She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.

She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.

Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.

"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.

"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.

"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.

"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.

Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.

"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"

Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"

Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."

It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.

No response

No response

No response

He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.

He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.

Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.

If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.

Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.

"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.

Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.

He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.

As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.

She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.

"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."

Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."

It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"

This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.

"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."

Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"

The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."

"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"

"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."

Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.

"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"

"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.

The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"

Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.

The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."

"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.

"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."

The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.

The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.

She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.

He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.

He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

It was way too silent in here, he hated it.

He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.

"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."

Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.

She didn’t.

He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.

Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.

He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.

He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.

Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.

It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.

A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.

Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.

He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.

"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."

Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.

"Is she okay?"

Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"

Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German’s eyes.

"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."

Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.

Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.

It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.

He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.

He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.

He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.

Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.

Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.

He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.

He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.

Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.

"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.

"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.

"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.

"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.

"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."

"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."

"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"

"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."

Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.

The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.

He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.

They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.

He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.

"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.

He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.

Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.

He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.

Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.

The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.

He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.

It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.

He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.

He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.

It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.

"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.

Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.

He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.

"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.

"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.

"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.

"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.

"Hey, are you alright, mate?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."

"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"

Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.

"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"

"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.

"What do you want?"

"I want what everyone else wants."

"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."

Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.

"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."

Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."

Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."

"What?"

Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."

"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."

"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.

"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."

Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.

He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.

He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.

He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.

"How is she?" He immediately asked.

"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.

"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.

"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."

Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.

He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.

He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.

When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.

Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!

She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.

She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.

"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.

He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.

"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.

"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.

"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.

"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.

Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.

"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.

"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.

Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.

Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."

"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.

He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.

He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.

Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.

"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."

"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.

"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,

He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.

till the sun comes up — SV5

pairing: rbr!sebastian vettel x fem!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, slight oral (m receiving), drunk sex, alcohol mentioned, jenson getting everyone double drunk, translated german, established relationship, not proofread!!

synopsis: fresh off of winning his first drivers championship whats a better way of celebrating [2.2k]

a/n: this was completely unplanned, definitely not the best thing ive ever written and was more so a way to get back into the feel of writing since its been months since i last properly have

MASTERLIST

Abu Dhabi, 2010

Sebastian couldn't keep his hands of you, and in his defence, you couldn't keep yours off him. Alcohol ran freely through your veins, loosing up your movements as you danced against each other. Music blaring, drinks being downed in every corner of the club. Every now and then another driver ordered a round of shots, not slowing down as you all danced the night away.

His hands were on your waist, your hips, sliding up and down your thighs. He was everywhere. Sebastian's grip never loosening. Jenson had been the next driver to buy a round, ordering double than before in an attempt to somehow get you all more drunk than you already were, after all he had his reputation to uphold.

Sebastian's lip skimmed all over any exposed skin he could get, you collarbone, neck and as low as he could down your deep neckline.

The burning of tequila and vodka down your throat only spurred your happiness on, the smile on your face beginning to hurt from how long you had held it.

Seb had won.

He had won his first championship in f1, in a dramatic way at that, and one of many you were sure of. Your boyfriend was more than a talented driver, that you were even more sure od even with your lack of knowledge in the sport you knew well enough that Seb was a born winner, and that this was just the beginning.

The day had finally gone his way, any four of them could've won it, it was the day he's been waiting for since he had joined f1, since even before then, and you had been there with him every single step of the way.

The drinks, music and dancing continued long into the early hours of the morning, finally deciding to depart from your group of celebrating friends, them all giving you suggestive looks.

You felt the arm around your waist tighten as you stirred awake, the warmth from the body beside you encasing yours. The pads of Sebastian's fingers still digging into your skin as they had done when you fell asleep, not moving from their protective position. Rays of sunlight shown through the slightly open curtains in the hotel room, the city of Abu Dhabi already buzzing at just 10am.

Bedsheets had been brought all the way up your chest, covering your naked body and pulling them off of Sebastian's, enough to see his toned muscles which he usually had hidden underneath a shirt, a sight you truly would never get used to. His trophy sat on the stand next to the bed, a reminder of the reasons you had celebrated the night before.

Seb nuzzled his head further into the crook of your shoulder, even in his sleepy state not wanting to let his hands drop from you. You could still smell the champagne on his skin, showering the last thing on your minds when you stumbled in. Unable to help but stare at him, his growing stubble that he didn't care enough to shave and the purple hickeys blessing his exposed neck, his blonde curls a mess on top of his head.

Memories from the previous night took over as you grazed over the marks left.

Your back was against the wall as soon as Sebastian shut the door, not wasting a second to have his hands on you fully, almost as desperate for you as you were for him. His lips trailed down your body, from your lips and then your jaw and finally residing on your neck. His trophy had been carefully placed on the ground next to you.

You whined as he sucked on the sweet spot between your neck and collarbone, the already euphoric feeling of having him so close causing a wetness between your legs. Seb's hands travelled down your legs, tapping your thighs and whispering a small. "Jump" in your ears, and you happily obliged, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.

Sebastian carried you from the wall to the bed, dropping you down on the soft mattress below. He looked over you hungrily, his eyes dancing over your entire body as he worked out where to start first.

Lifting your fingers to his neck you traced over the marks, not too heavily as to not wake him. The action of you leaving them flashed before your eyes, each and every mark came at a different time and with how drunk you were, you were just happy to remember.

"Schatz." You had been to entranced with the memories you hadn't even seen him waking up, the calmness in his shut eyes had opened to show the beautiful blue eyes you loved. His long eyelashes brushed against his cheeks as he looked up at you, following your gaze to where you had been staring. "I could always do with more."

It was his turn to trace the marks he’d left now, Seb’s fingers smoothing over the reddened skin of your neck. "You could do with more too." He pulled one of your legs over his, making you straddle his lap whilst he continued looking up at you.

You laughed at his eagerness, acting as if you didn't want and need this just as much as he did. "What? Last night wasn't enough for you." Raising your eyebrow at him, Sebastian rolled his eyes, hands moving to your hips in an attempt to get you moving against him.

Without a second thought you obliged to his attempt, rocking your hips in time with his hands. He dipped his head down your neck, moving to in between your breast and kissing them both. His kisses continued, the loving mood he was in only growing as he made his way back up, reaching your lips and bringing you in for your first kiss of the morning. In contrast to the warmth of your skin goosebumps raised along your body.

Dragging himself away from your lips, Sebastian rejoined his journey up your body, his teeth nibbling your earlobe causing small whimpers to escape your already swollen lips. "Could never get tired of fucking you, Engel." His words went straight to your core, your thighs rubbing together to try and release the tension a little. "Do you know what you do to me?"

You knew Seb would try to get you to beg if he could. Even in the loving and giving mood he was in he always got a kick out of making you beg, the lewd words going straight to his cock whenever they left your mouth.

“Please, Seb." Your words faltered slightly as one of his fingers grazed over your cunt. Sebastian could practically feel your clit throbbing against him, and it took ever ounce of his willpower to not give you what you wanted. "Please, just touch me."

Your pleas were never enough for him, wanting nothing more than for you to break, to tell him what you wanted him to do, no matter how dirty the words you used, he loved when you spoke like that to him. "Where do you want me to touch you, schatz? I need you to tell me."

When you didn't reply, Sebastian lightly slapped your thigh as a warning, an empty one at that as you both knew he would give in to you eventually, because if it wasn’t his arousal taking over it would be his drunkenness. But he would always put up a fight. You grabbed his wrist, in no mood for his teasing or to waste time and brought down to your dripping cunt. "Here, Seb, please just touch me."

And when you rasped out his name like that who was he to not give you what you wanted most?

Sebastian’s hard on was becoming glaringly obvious through the tight, and growing even tighter, boxers he was wearing. "This is what you to do me." The words he spoke stuck with you, both of you having so much power over how the other felt almost felt like it was fate to be together.

You had rid yourself of your panties already, the newfound feeling of your unclothed clit grinding against Seb’s growing cock. Gasping as he lifted his hips to meet yours, you silenced yourself against his neck, biting into the muscles and soothing over the stinging with your tongue.

A louder moan slipped past your lips as your arousal grew, your slick making it easier to glide against the soft material of his boxers. "I want to fuck you." Sebastian had to stop the groan that nearly escaped his throat.

“Then fuck me, liebling."

"Then fuck me." As the words left your throat Sebastian pushed himself inside you, dropping his chest onto yours to get as close and humanly possibly. The groan he let as you clenched around him forever etched into your brain, something you will remember any time you look at him.

Seb snaked his arm down between your entwined bodies, circling your clit at a steady pace, contrasting the harshness of his thrusts into you. The added stimulation had you melting into the bed underneath him.

You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you, as he swallowed your moans in the heated mess between you. His neediness leaked into the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth at the first chance he could get.

Squeezing around him again, Sebastian bit your lip, pulling on it as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you tried to catch to your breath, although he couldn't stop his want to touch you again, dropping his head to meet your lips in another crazed kiss.

Just as you were finding your rhythm, Sebastian’s hands found their place on your ass, slowing you for a couple seconds then speeding you up again in a sequence that made your head spin and eyes roll back. Your chests were practically touching as he pulled you impossibly closer, connecting your lips.

You kissed up and down his neck, his hickeys becoming redder as you bit down on the same spot of skin, taut from his training. Pulling away for a minute you admired the purple marks on his throat, his adams apple bobbing under your gaze, in contrast with his muscles making you feel like you could come just looking at him.

At your staring he thrust up into you faster, smirking at your unprepared reaction, arms failing you as you fell onto his chest.

One of his hands lifted from your ass, pushing the fallen hair out of your face as you found your own rhythm again. You felt your orgasm nearing closer and closer, and so did Sebastian. His hand slipped down in between your bodies, rubbing circles on your clit to push you further and further to your release.

Within seconds you were cumming around his cock, your walls clenching around him, head thrown back and your mouth opening in an ‘o’ shape. Your moans grew louder and louder, Sebastian placing his fingers in your mouth so that not every bystander in the street would hear you. "Fuck, Seb, you're so good to me."

The feeling of your tongue swirling around the tips of his fingers spurred him on to his own orgasm. The sensation you were giving him reminding him of how good you made him feel when he’s in your mouth.

Sebastian’s heavy groan filled the room as his head hit the pillow below him. Your tongue swirled around the slit in the tip of his cock teasingly, fingers stroking up and down the part you weren't touching.

You kissed him from top to bottom, placing one last longing kiss to his tip. Hollowing out your cheeks you took him in one, the tip knocking the back of your throat instantly.

Already you felt the tears leaving your eyes from the closing of your throat around him, viciously trying to force him out of your mouth. Your hands stroked what your mouth couldn't get, the two feelings only adding to his pleasure.

Rough german words slipped from his mouth, mixing with the moans and groans he let out. "I love you so much." His hand found a place in your hair, making a makeshift ponytail and pushing your head down further.

Your body fell on his, a thin layer of sweat covering both your skins as you both attempted to catch your breath. Seb still deep inside you, holding his cum in you, neither wanting to move.

Glancing over at the trophy beside you, you smiled, turning back to face Seb, who had an equally as happy grin on his face. “So when i win my second-“

“Don’t push it.”

YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE | Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb's wife is pregnant, but she hasn't told him yet since she doesn't seem ready. However, after he almost crashed pretty badly during a Free Practice session, she can't help but tell him in not the best way possible ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Okay but can you imagine Sebs wife being pregnant but she has not told him yet. He does some dangerous and bold move on a drive and she gets mad and scared and just some fluff when he finds out :)

WORD COUNT: 1804

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of anxiety, overthinking about Formula 1 crashes (?), pregnancy, Ferrari Seb in general (if you know, you know)

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @herdetectivetheorist @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Hi guys! Finally back to posting fics! This year I don't only want to write more, but also establish some kind of writing routine because I've been dealing with anxiety over Christmas for some personal problems family related and found out that I missed distressing with writing. Also, thank you so much for all the support you've been showing me lately! Appreciate it a lot since I wasn't feeling very comfortable with my writing. Let me know your thoughts on this one <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

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

Despite being quite far from the pit lane, you could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the engines, the clatter of tools on Kimi's car, and the curses of the race engineers at the constant stunts Seb had decided to pull during the free practice session.  

Your husband's red car seemed not just to race but to fly around the track. FP2 had started barely twenty minutes ago, but Seb had already come within inches of crashing into the walls far too many times after going off track more often than you could count.  

You couldn't deny that you had loved watching Seb race ever since you met and you learned he was a driver in one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Today, however, luck was not on your side, and anxiety was consuming you. The nausea, uncontrollable on its own, felt even worse than usual. Not to mention, you felt on the verge of a panic attack.  

"Are you okay?"  

You turned at the sound of Riccardo Adami’s voice, Seb’s race engineer. The Italian removed one side of his headset and covered the microphone to ensure the driver wouldn’t hear anything.  

"Yes, yes, of course," you replied hastily, forcing a smile and suppressing the urge to gag as you felt it rising in your throat. "I’m just a bit more nervous than usual today, that’s all."  

"Seb knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about that."  

You nodded, but as soon as Adami turned his attention back to his screen, you rolled your eyes and did the same.  

"You know, sometimes he thinks that he’s a cat and has seven lives," you muttered under your breath. "Someone should remind him he’s in an actual Formula 1 car, not in a simulator."  

"Don’t worry, I’ll remind him in the post-session briefing," the engineer joked, flashing a smile before immersing himself back into Vettel's driving.  

You didn’t pay him much attention. Once again, you were entirely engrossed in both your husband’s onboard camera and the telemetry, even though you didn’t understand much aside from the fact that he was setting purple sectors, which was undoubtedly a good sign.  

You didn’t know much about the inner workings of the cars, but after so many years with Seb, you knew that the faster his times were, the higher the risks became.  

You were also acutely aware that your husband was pushing himself too hard in those moments.  

You began to tremble slightly, fidgeting with your hands in an attempt to calm your anxiety, but it didn’t work. Instinctively, and trying not to draw much attention, you placed your hands on your belly and prayed that your child wouldn’t give you any scares like his father was giving you.  

"Sector two in purple as well, Seb!"  

Even though the garage erupted into cheers and applause, you remained motionless. Instead, you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, which now showed your husband’s car in full view.  

Your panic peaked the moment Seb lost control of the rear of his car and went off the track. You swore that if it hadn’t been for the sudden braking, he would have ended up in the barriers with a wrecked car and himself heading to the medical center because the crash would have likely exceeded the G-force limits.  

When Seb didn’t respond immediately, your heart stopped.  

"I’m fine, I’m fine..." Seb finally said in a disappointed tone. "But I can’t say the same for the car. I think it’s more damaged than it looks."  

"Can you bring it back, Sebastian?" Riccardo asked in a tone that was a mix of irritation and disappointment.  

"Yeah, no problem. Coming back. Sorry, guys."  

Just as no one on the team said anything to you, you, who had forced yourself to sit down because your legs were trembling too much and you felt dizzy, also remained silent until your husband returned and got out of the car.  

Seb removed his helmet, revealing an expression that was hard to decipher. You stood up carefully and approached him, trying to keep your composure. Without giving him a chance to say anything, you grabbed his hand and led him toward his driver room, ignoring Britta's protests to talk after interviews were done.  

"It could have been worse, right?" 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and turned to face you. You stood there with your arms crossed, visibly upset. Your glare alone was enough to tell Seb he was seconds away from one of your infamous scoldings.  

The problem? He had no idea why. You had never acted so strangely over something as common as a collision during a race weekend.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exploded, your voice filled with frustration. “Fuck, Seb, can you explain what that was all about?!”  

“What do you mean, what was that? I was... racing, like I always do, babe,” he replied cautiously, still clueless about what he'd done wrong.  

You, however, didn’t know what was bothering you more: your husband’s calm demeanor or the sight of a few Ferrari team members peeking through the window to catch the drama unfolding between the two of you.  

“You were so close to slamming into a wall, Sebastian, that’s what happened!” you shot back, yanking the curtains shut and flipping off the nosy onlookers. “Are you out of your mind or what?!”  

“Come on, love, I had it under control. What you saw on the onboard might’ve looked bad, but I swear it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed.”  

“Not as bad as it seemed? Are you seriously telling me that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think driving is just like playing a video game now? Do you have any idea what it would’ve meant if you hadn’t reacted in time? Do you know what it would’ve meant for me and for—”  

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, refusing to continue.  

You knew your emotions were running wild because of your pregnancy hormones, but you forced yourself to calm down. Getting so worked up would only lead to a pointless argument with Seb and wasn’t good for you or the baby.  

“For who, Y/N?” Seb asked, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his.  

“For... me! Who else?” you replied quickly. 

Sebastian didn’t know how to respond. He’d never seen you so distressed about his racing, and while he tried to stay calm, inside he was battling a storm of worry and confusion.  

“This stress isn’t good for me or for the situation you and, well... you’ve gotten me into,” you said, your voice cracking.  

“Y/N, babe, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fuck, I’m pretty worried about you right now with all this shit, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—”  

“Damn it, Seb! I’m pregnant!”  

You looked down, tears streaming down your face. You clenched your fists tightly, furious at yourself for revealing such big news in such an emotional, unplanned way.  

Sebastian, meanwhile, stood frozen, his eyes wide in shock at the unexpected news. Slowly, everything started to make sense: your morning sickness, falling asleep all the time, constantly complaining about being tired, and the flimsy excuses you gave for not drinking wine, something you normally loved.  

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and for believing your weak justifications about bad leftovers being the cause of everything.  

“You’re... pregnant?” His voice was barely audible, almost afraid to say the words out loud because they didn’t feel real.  

You wiped your tears and sniffled, doing your best to meet your husband’s gaze without feeling ashamed.  

“Yes...” you said timidly. “I wanted to tell you in a special way... you know, by giving you a baby onesie in a box with the positive pregnancy test inside, but...” You shook your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were going to die out there today and leave your child and me alone. The thought of losing you, now of all times, just...”  

“You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”  

You nodded, and Seb couldn’t hold back his tears. He pulled you into a tight embrace and began kissing you tenderly. You melted into his arms, feeling an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.  

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted. “I swear I wanted it to be special, but seeing you out there today, thinking something could happen to you...” Your voice broke again. “I was terrified, Seb, like never before watching you race.”  

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am,” he said sincerely, cupping your cheeks gently and kissing you over and over. “If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. God, love, this is incredible... This is the best news I’ve ever received.”  

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? You should’ve seen your face earlier...”  

“Mad? That you didn’t tell me sooner?” You shrugged, your insecurity showing despite your years together. Seb tilted his head, understanding this was one of your rare but extreme moments of doubt. “I’m just... in shock. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents...”  

Sebastian hesitantly touched your stomach, and you burst into fresh tears at the tenderness of his gesture.  

“Now you have to promise me something, Seb,” you said, playing with his hair as he knelt before you, leaving kisses on your belly.  

“Anything for you and our little one.”  

“You need to be more careful from now on. Stop thinking so much with your adrenaline and testosterone, and start using your brain more,” you said, trying not to sound too harsh. “I know Formula 1 and racing is your whole life, but I don’t want you risking it when we’re bringing a new one into the world. I’m eight weeks along, and we still have 32 to go assuming everything follows the perfect pregnancy script.”  

Seb stood and gazed at you, trying to convey the calm you both could only find in each other.  

“Love, I promise,” he whispered softly. “For you, for the baby... I love winning, but today, and even more so when our child is born, I’ll have won the second most important race of my life.”  

You frowned, confused.  

“If that’s the second, what’s the most important race of your life then?”  

He chuckled and scooped you into his arms, kissing you again as he laid you both on the couch behind you.  

“The race I ran for so many years to win your heart,” he murmured between slow, deliberate kisses that said more than words ever could. “After all those years trying to get you to go out with me in high school, and now we’re eight months away from having a baby... what else could it be, mama?”  

The power of Sebastian Vettel.

2012 Bahrain GP winner Sebastian Vettel with runner up Kimi Räikkönen. It was their first joint podium after Kimi's return to F1 that year.

Soft Launches and Soft Tyres

Part 1: The Princess of the Grid

A particular kind of silence falls in a garage before a race. It’s not quiet with radios crackling and the hum of tire warmers and mechanics shouting about torque and telemetry. But it’s a kind of silence in my head, like the calm just before I let the car swallow me whole.

I live for that silence. That, and the smell of burnt rubber. I’ve never fit into any neat little box anyway—not the way people expect, especially not when I got into F1 at 19. People expected me to be the new kid, quiet and compliant. And, well… okay, they were half right.

I was quiet. Still am, mostly. I don’t talk back, I let the track speak for me. That was something Seb used to say. “You don’t need to be loud to be heard, Moni.” He was my mentor before he became everyone’s eco-uncle and left us… left me. I still miss his hugs. And Daniel, god, Daniel was like my older brother, but funnier and worse at keeping secrets. He once said I had “golden retriever energy disguised in a kitten’s body.” Which is both cute and slightly concerning, but very him.

Anyway, it’s been five years now. I’m 24, and things have changed. There’s a new wave of younger drivers, some shinier, and I’m not the “baby” anymore. But I guess I still get called the “Princess of the Grid.” Mostly by Lando. Once, Carlos said it during a press conference, and Lando won’t let him live it down.

My mother raised me, just the two of us. She worked nights at a hospital and still managed to drive me to karting sessions on weekends. It wasn’t glamorous. We didn’t have the money that most kids in motorsport had. But I had her. She never yelled, never cried in front of me. Just kept going. Quiet strength. Maybe that’s where I get it from.

My dad left when I was six. I don’t remember much about him, and the stuff I remember feels more like watching someone else’s home video. He wasn’t cruel, just... unfinished. He didn’t know how to stay, and he missed a lot of things: my first race win, my Super Licence, and my debut in Formula One. Sometimes, people ask me if we’re in touch, and I say, “No, but I’m sure he knows where to find me.” I mean, it’s not like I’m hiding.

I signed my first F1 contract at nineteen with AlphaTauri, back when it was still AlphaTauri. It was a blur—media, pressure, more cameras in a week than I’d seen in my whole life. I kept my head down. Scored points when I could. Learned how to breathe in that car-shaped pressure cooker. I was never the loud headline, but I stayed consistent. That's what mattered. The paddock doesn’t always reward consistency, but it remembers it.

I still drive for VCARB even now, and I like it here. We’re not the underdog or the top dog. We’re the kind of team that sharpens you and makes you better.

-------------------------

Part 2: The Calm Before the Media Storm

Media day always smells like too much cologne and burnt coffee.

It’s a mix of waiting around in branded teamwear and pretending not to hear the questions asked in the next booth. My PR manager, Livia, clips a mic to my collar with practiced ease, gentleness usually reserved for bomb diffusers or hairstylists.

“You good?” she asks, smoothing the VCARB jacket over my shoulder.

“Define good,” I say, giving her a slight grin. She rolls her eyes.

“Smile. Be nice. Don’t swear.”

“Always nice. Almost never swear.”

“Almost being the keyword.”

She pats my arm and walks off, already on the phone.

The first few interviews are standard fare. Strategy questions, performance reviews, tyre talk — everything I’ve answered a hundred times, just repackaged in different accents and camera angles.

Interviewer: “Monica, do you think the team’s Q3 performance in Jeddah was a turning point?”

Me: “It was a data point. A good one. But one race doesn’t define a season.”

Interviewer: “You’ve been praised for your tyre management this season—”

Me: “I just don’t fight physics. That’s all.”

They laugh. One asks if I meditate. Another wants to know what I eat before a race.

“Toast,” I say. “Always toast.”

There’s a short break after the fourth interview. I peel off the mic and flop onto a couch in the VCARB media room. Isack’s already there, drinking a Red Bull while on his phone watching one of the videos the admin made us make on Instagram.

“You’re trending,” he says, not looking up.

I groan as I close my eyes to take the smallest nap a human is possible. “Again?”

He turns the screen toward me. A photo from last week, me again, blurry, exiting a hotel lobby at midnight. Someone had zoomed in on my hand touching someone else’s arm.

“Your mysterious shadow boyfriend strikes again,” he grins. “This time, people think it’s someone from the grid.”

“Great,” I mutter. “I love when my life makes headlines. You keep laughing, Isack, but one day, you won't even be able to pee in peace without getting on headlines."

He ignores me and keeps scrolling. “Also, apparently your ‘energy’ matched Pedro Pascal’s according to this fan edit.”

I blink. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea. But I support it,” he says with a grin, and gets off the couch when his PR manager calls him for an interview.

I watch him walk away before my phone vibrates.

Groupchat: Who made this groupchat?

Carlos: MONICA.

Lando: Ma’am, why are YOU trending and not for overtaking someone???

Alex: Girl, you okay? Did you break the internet??

lewis: Princess, did I miss something, or did you go on a date with Pedro Pascal??

Charles: WHO IS THE MAN? Alex won't tell me anything.

Carlos: Becca won't either.

Max: I will find out. I know people.

Carlos: Moni. Seriously. Who is it?

Me: Stop spanning the group chat

Lando: We are not doing such thing, answer.

Oscar: We want to know?

Max: Does Daniel know? I bet he does.

Me:……

Charles: Young lady, come back here.

---

Sebastian (privately): 1 massage - unread

I stare at Seb’s message for a second too long. Then I press the side button and lock the phone without replying. The last interview of the day is with a lifestyle network—the ones who care more about what moisturizer I use than my racing line through Sector 3.

The questions start light.

“What’s always in your travel bag?” “How do you relax between races?” “If you weren’t an F1 driver, what would you be?”

I answer them all. (Sunscreen. Sleep. Veterinarian.)

And then

“So, Monica… the internet wants to know: Are you dating someone?”

There’s a beat of silence. Not awkward. Just quiet.

“I—uh.” I blink. “I don’t usually talk about my personal—”

“We know! That’s why everyone’s curious. There have been some pictures lately—late dinners, hotel lobbies. People are saying—”

I don’t hear the rest. My throat tightens. I nod slowly, a polite smile barely glued on. Livia appears out of nowhere, like a PR magician.

“I’m so sorry,” she cuts in. “We’re running late for a strategy debrief. Tight schedule today.”

The interviewer tried to hide their disappointment, but Livia was already guiding me out of the chair with a hand on my elbow and that fixed “this is fine” smile that PR people must practice in the mirror. Once we’re out of sight, she mutters, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. In the hallway, I check my phone again. Seb’s message is still sitting there. Still unread.

-----------

Part 3: When the Internet Breaks

[Clip: ‘The Last of Us’ Season 2 – Press Junket | Interview With Pedro Pascal]

Pedro Pascal is seated comfortably and exudes his characteristic warmth and charm.

Interviewer: "Pedro, 'The Last of Us' season 2 episode 2….what an episode it was, it delves deep into love and loss themes. Has portraying Joel influenced your perspective on personal relationships?"

Pedro: "Absolutely. Joel's journey is one of profound connection and vulnerability. It's made me reflect on the importance of having someone who grounds you and brings light into your life amidst chaos, just like Ellie did for him in a daughter-father way."

Interviewer: "That sounds personal. Are you currently experiencing such a connection in your own life, maybe with a lover?"

Pedro: "Well, let's just say I've been fortunate to find someone who brings that kind of light and grounding into my world."

The interviewer raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

Interviewer: "Care to share more?"

Pedro Laughing, shaking his head, "I think I'll leave it at that for now. I don't want trouble."

Within hours, the internet was ablaze with speculation. Social media platforms were flooded with clips of the interview, and fans dissected every word and expression.

Twitter/X – Trending Topics:

PEDRO PASCAL GF???

"Someone who brings light" [1.3M posts]

Monica VCARB edit (soft launch??)

MONICA IS DATING PEDRO

PRINCESS OF THE GRID x INTERNET’S DADDY 😭

Comments under various posts range from excitement to disbelief:

“Imagine going home to the Princess of the Grid and she makes you toast while talking about tyre deg 😭” “She was quiet but had the rizz of a thousand suns.” “Oh my god. THE fanfic is real.”

Private Chat – Daniel Ricciardo & Monica Daniel: So. The internet’s on fire. Pedro and you?

Monica: He didn’t mean to I think He was just talking. That’s how he is. He gets soft and starts talking, and the words fall out

Daniel: That’s adorable. I’m vomiting a little, but it’s adorable. So it’s real? Like, real real?

Monica: Yeah. It’s been a few months now. Met him at an awards thing. He was nice. Didn’t treat me like a headline. Didn’t ask about fame at dinner. Just asked about my favorite books. Stuff no one’s asked in years.

Daniel: You deserve that. You so deserve that. But you’re freaking out, huh.

Monica : I feel like I’m standing on a trapdoor. Like the minute I smile too wide or hold his hand in daylight it’ll open and everyone will pile on. I worked so hard to be taken seriously. Being the first woman in F1 was hell at first. You remember. People said awful stuff. Called me Seb’s “pet project,” remember that? Or the “baby with daddy issues.”

Daniel: Yeah. I remember. I also remember you outqualifying half the grid with a migraine and two hours of sleep. You’ve got scars. Doesn’t mean you hide forever.

Monica: He’s older. People will tear it apart. Say I’m looking for a dad. Say I’m broken. And with mine leaving, I never really figured out how to not let that stuff crawl under my skin. I know it’s stupid. But I’m scared. Of the headlines. Of the comments. Of being too happy and getting punished for it.

Daniel: That’s not stupid. That’s human. But you don’t have to carry it alone. Talk to Seb, Mon. He’s worried. We both are. You’ve got us. You always have us.

Monica: I haven’t opened his text.

Daniel: Mon, you know you have to talk to him at some point

I sat curled up in the corner of the hotel bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands. The room was too cold, not physically, but in that way hotel rooms are when you don’t feel like you belong in them. My phone sat in my lap like it weighed five kilos. Seb’s name had been at the top of my messages for three days. Unread. Unopened. But never ignored. I stared at the notification, thumb hovering over it like the screen might bite back. Then, finally, I tapped.

Sebastian Vettel [3 days ago]: Hey, little one. I saw the headlines. I just wanted to say, I hope it’s true. Not the rumors. The happiness. You’ve always deserved to be loved out loud, not in secret. And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for that. If people try to turn your joy into ammunition, that’s on them, not you. Call me if you want. I’m here. Always. 💛

It hit me in layers. I could hear his voice in my head as I read. His calm, that steady warmth he always had, even when the whole world was watching him. I didn’t cry. Not really. But something loosened in my chest — something I didn’t realize I’d been holding onto so tightly. Like someone had cracked open a window in my ribs and let the stale air out. I stared at the message momentarily before hitting his number and hearing the ringing sound.

----------

Part 4: Eyes on the Paddock

Practice day always feels like the calm before the circus. Except this morning, the circus was already rolling in. By 9 a.m., the paddock was alive, TV crews in place, PR managers buzzing like caffeinated bees, fans pressed against the barriers, phones ready. Security tried to keep a clear path, but the chaos was controlled at best. Sky Sports F1’s Rachel Brookes adjusted her earpiece and stood near the entrance gate, mic in hand, eyes trained on the team hospitality areas. She nodded to the cameraman. “Alright, we're rolling in three, two, one…”

“Good morning from the paddock,” she began, the signature warmth in her voice. “It’s Friday, it’s practice day, and we’re already seeing a few drivers arriving.”

From behind her, someone in the crowd screamed as Charles Leclerc strolled past in Ferrari red, smiling at Leo with Alexandra by his side. Moments later, George Russell appeared with Carmen beside him, both dressed like they had walked out of a campaign shoot.

Rachel turned slightly to the camera. “A few of the grid’s familiar faces are arriving with their partners today, a little off-track love before the focus shifts to race pace.”

Then the air shifted. It wasn’t loud at first. Just… aware. Phones lifted. People stood on their toes. There was a wave of murmurs, the kind that travels fast, faster than even a car down the straight. And then there she was. Monica, the grid princess, walked through the gates like she’d done a thousand times. Cool. Grounded. Calm with her usual sweet smile. Except this time, she wasn’t alone. Pedro Pascal walked beside her, their hands linked, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Rachel blinked, then leaned toward the camera with a slightly incredulous smile. “And… Monica Cruz is walking in this morning with none other than Pedro Pascal. That… is quite the entrance.”

Click. Flash. Shutter sounds like popcorn. Monica didn’t stop walking. She didn’t pose or break stride. But she looked up briefly, smiled toward the crowd, and gave a small wave with her free hand. Pedro leaned close to her ear, clearly saying something only she could hear. She laughed, genuinely, softly, like no cameras were watching. Rachel, still recovering, added, “Well, that’ll be the shot of the weekend before the engines even start.”

-----

Author note: I had this idea and just had to get it down, even if it’s rough or awkward. I know it’s not perfect, and I apologize if the writing feels unpolished, but I hope the story's heart came through and that you enjoyed the concept. I’d love to keep writing and improving, especially regarding details and dialogue. Next time, I want to include more of Monica interacting with the grid and the other drivers. I hope this first part of the story feels like a good start.

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“Thank you so much for your support and for sharing my story—it truly means the world to me and my family during these difficult times.

I dream of becoming a UX/UI designer and web developer, working hard to develop my skills so I can contribute to my community despite the challenges of war.

I need your support to continue this journey and rebuild my future. Every share or donation makes a huge difference and brings me closer to achieving this dream.

Thank you to everyone who helps spread my story or supports me in any way. Your kindness is the light I need right now. If you could share this post with your friends, I would be deeply grateful!”

“My Dream Is Still Alive Despite the Rubble”

My dream has always been to become a UX/UI designer and a web developer. This dream has been my compass toward a better future for me and my family, giving my life meaning and hope despite the challenges.

But the war in Gaza turned our lives upside down. We lost our home, my university, and even the laptop I relied on for learning and work. We were displaced to the southern part of Gaza, where we suffer daily from power outages and limited internet access. Despite these circumstances, my heart still clings to hope, and I refuse to give up on my dream.

I am not just asking for support to acquire equipment; I am asking for a chance to rebuild my future—not just for myself, but for my family as well. I believe that every challenge holds an opportunity, and I am determined to turn this hardship into a story of success.

Why Do I Need Your Support?

To continue my education and pursue my dream, I need some essential tools to help me learn and work under these harsh conditions:

• Laptop: $2,000

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So far, I’ve managed to raise €975 through my GoFundMe campaign, but I need to reach €7,000 to cover all costs.

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My ambition is not just to complete my studies but also to use my skills to support my community in Gaza. I aim to train young people in programming and design so we can contribute to building a better future despite the challenges we face.

Why Your Contribution Matters:

Your donation is not just helping me personally but is an investment in a young man determined to empower his community. I aspire to become a role model for Palestinian youth, showing that resilience and creativity can overcome any obstacle.

A Heartfelt Thank You:

I live under difficult conditions, but I believe that goodness exists everywhere. Every person who contributes to my dream brings hope back into my life and gives me the strength to keep going.

How You Can Help:

1. Donate to the campaign:

GoFundMe

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2. Share my story with your friends and family. It might reach someone who can help.

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I promise to share every step of my journey with you—from acquiring the equipment to completing my education and realizing my dream. You are part of this story, and your support is the light I need right now.

“In the darkest times, there is always a ray of light. That light is you and your support, which gives me the strength to carry on.”

Special Thanks:

I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who has supported me so far. A special thanks to:

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