꩜summary: you're not in love... obviously... seriously!
꩜pairing: sebastián montoya x fem! reader
“It’s convenient!” you argued. “It’s not like I’m in love with him, he’s just helping me out.”
Alex stared back at you, completely and utterly unconvinced. “Sure, and I didn’t cause an 11 car pile up in Monaco,” he nodded. “You clearly have this under control.”
Irish sarcasm, isn’t it great. You rolled your eyes. “Alex, come on, he’s just-”
“The love of your life,” he finished for you, and you swore you would have rung his neck out.
“I’m not in love-!”
“Oh! So the sky’s never been blue?! I’m shocked,” he deadpanned. “He’s in love with you-”
“Who’s he?” Sebastian rested an arm around your waist, smiling as he looked between the two of you. “Is it Verstappen wannabe here?” he asked, pointing at Alex, who chuckled mockingly. The nickname had spread like a wildfire throughout the F2 paddock, and it was kind of funny. The 11 car pile up was no joke and it was great that they all walked away with no injuries.
“At least I’m not being shown up by my teammate,” he bit back as you just watched between the two of them. “Bye Y/n, see you on track Sebastian.”
“What did he want?” he questioned, turning his attention to you, dropping his hand from your waist. He was all too aware of how strong he came on there, and how silent you got. He hoped he hadn’t ruined anything. He really hoped the ‘he’ Alex was talking about was him, because it meant you were talking about him, which settled a small colony of butterflies in his stomach.
“Just a chat,” you shrugged, turning to him. “How are you?”
“Better now that you’re back in the paddock,” he smirked. “Where were you?”
“Busy,” you teased, walking on, ahead of him. He raised a curious eyebrow and followed. “Had some family stuff. Hope it wasn’t too terrible without me.”
“Well I survived, but just barely,” he teased. “Best if you don’t go away again.”
You just laughed. What the fuck does one say to that? How does one respond to blatant flirting? How does one keep their cool? “I’ll try to stay in the paddock,” you smirked. “No promises.”
He could’ve sworn he’d died and gone to heaven when you looked at him like that.
Travelling with Sebastian was good in some ways, and shit in others. You got free flights because of his sponsors (or something like that), simple boarding and disembarking experiences, luxury lounges, etc. It was shit, because well… Sebastian was there. That was the shit part, not really. It was this weird tension you two had going on between you. This will-they-won’t-they bullshit, and there seemed to be no end in sight. Yeah, you guys kissed sometimes, and you hooked up. He was sweet. He was nice. You had no idea if he was your boyfriend, or even actually interested in you.
“Is this the girlfriend?” his dad teased as you walked up behind Sebastian, who went bright red. This could not be happening right now. He stared at the two of you with an expecting smile, and your jaw just dropped, unsure of what to say. What does one say to that? Had Sebastian told his dad you were his girlfriend to let you on the flight? Would he be mad to know Sebastian was just letting anyone on? Were you about to have to find another way to Barcelona?
“Dad,” he groaned, covering his face. You continued to stand there, shocked. He nudged his son and laughed.
“Come on son, it’s a joke! We both know you’re too pretty for him,” he winked at you and smiled, and you pretended that you weren’t actively losing your shit. You let out a small laugh, trying to regulate your nervous system as the adrenaline in your blood slowly dissipated. “Let’s go, shall we?”
He set out in front of you as Seb stood back, waiting for you. He nudged into you as you walked from security, an apologetic smile on his face. “I’m so sorry, he makes super ill-timed jokes sometimes,” he admitted, embarrassment clear in his features. “You alright?”
“Yeah, of course,” you nodded, letting out a nervous laugh. “Just… caught me off guard.”
He stared at you for a second. “Why would that catch you off guard?”
“Because I'm not your girlfriend?” you chuckled. “Are you sure you weren’t hurt during the race? I know you didn’t crash but-”
“What?!” he squeaked. People stared. He cleared his throat. “But all the…” he trailed off, knowing his dad was within ear shot. “So that didn’t mean anything or…?”
“Oh no!” you took his hand. His face dropped. “I mean yes! Yes, it meant something!” you corrected yourself. “It meant something to me, I just didn’t know if it meant anything to you.”
“Of course it meant something to me,” he said, like it was obvious. “You mean something to me.”
You softened. “You mean something to me too,” you admitted. “So… we’re dating?”
“I thought we had been this whole time,” he scratched the back of his head.
So maybe you were in love. And maybe Alex was right.
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