#Ferrari suits always does something to me

[leclercskiesahead]

CARLOS SAINZ JR

[kindestofkings]

what came first, the chicken or the dickhead?

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)

authors note: this is so dramatic and for what! sorry to pierre for making you the villian, and lets pretend ferrari isnt as shit as it currently is! lol enjoy, would love to know what you think <333

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo and others

yourusername tough day in the office today, mexico '22 is just not to be I guess. As always a learning curve and we will grow from todays DNF 😞

See you soon Brazil !!

view all 500 comments

ynfan1 we are still so proud of you! keep pushing 👍

f1fan this is literally what you get for trying to compete in a MALE sport

f1fan2 fr she's bringing down pierre and the team f1fan3 too emotional for the big leagues ynfan2 stfu you do realise your favourite MALE drivers dnf all the time aswell

alphataurif1 we come back stronger!!

yourusername ��👊

alex_albon lily is wondering would going for ice cream cheer you up?

yourusername I love her, yes please 🥹 landonorris I'm coming yourusername nuh huh its for us pointless drivers! landonorris come on it was only 2..

f1fan4 lando norizz trying to make it a double date lollll

f1fan5 bro chill these two have been friends since literal birth

alphataurif1

liked by yourusername and others

alphataurif1 the difference 2 weeks can make! our girl yourusername is starting pole position on sunday here in brazil 🔥

view all 150 comments

yourusername woohoo roll on sunday!!

ynfan1 go bestie go !

ynfan2 AT moving up💪

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername great work achieved today, the car and track felt good. hopefully we can convert this position into some points to finish of the season on a high, all we need is team work on the track (and for max's alarm to not go off so he misses the race 😀)

view all 290 comments 

maxverstappen1 why the personal attack

yourusername WHY do you have to win every week, surely you are bored by it by now ... charles_leclerc I agree, maybe take a week off? f1fan2 hahah these two i'm obsessed

landonorris please do well but not TOO well, just stay behind me 👍

yourusername and look at your ass all race? hard pass

ynfan1 that mention of teamwork is a lil suss...

ynfan2 not really?? it is a team sport ynfan1 yeah but do you not find it weird how unfriendly yourusername and pierregasly are, despite them being on the same team? f1fan tbf I have always noticed how forced their videos are together. and they dont even follow each other

yourusername

liked by landonorris and others 

yourusername lollll ruining my career one interview at a time, but at least we hit the clubs looking fire 🔥

p.s. I stand by what I've said I only have apologies for two people 1) my pr manager (who I dont pay enough for this) and 2) charles for linking your name to this hot mess!

view all 660 comments

landonorris it's so great being the unproblematic one 😎

yourusername does mcclaren need another golden driver from bristol??? I fear im out of a seat soon .. ynfan1 this is so sad you are way to talented of a driver to be out of a suit

charles_leclerc No worries 😅 Just make sure you buy me dinner next time before dragging me into the chaos. 🍽️🤷‍♂️

yourusername you got it prince of monaco! f1fan2 PLEASE PLEASE DATE ynfan2 ewww no her and lando are so so in love they're just too blind and stupid

danielricciardo absolute legend behaviour mate!!

yourusername learning from the best danny ric 😎

alphataurif1 and yourusername

Liked by landonorris and others

alphataurif1 From grid battles to glory laps! 🏁✨ Our unstoppable driver just clinched her FIRST WIN at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! 🏆 Watch out, world – she's rewriting the history books and leaving her mark on the track. 🚀🌟

#AlphaQueen #AbuDhabiWinner

view all 444 comments

danielricciardo What a race! Big congrats, yourusername. That first win feeling is something else! Enjoy every moment!

alex_albon: absolutely smashed it! huge congratulations on your first win!

carlossainz55 felicidades!!

susie_wolff: breaking barriers and making history! huge congratulations on your first win!

yourusername AHHHHH I CANT BELIEVE IT ! I LOVE YOU TEAM !!

ynfan1 lando where is your congrats you are slippinnn!!

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and others

landonorris I've never been this happy to lose, but it's pretty cool seeing your best friend win in her rookie year. EVEN if she beaten me to it 😞

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yourusername LANDOOOO you are a the bestest friend ever

yourusername would not have gotten here with out you, my partner in crime <3

ynfan1 best friend?? y'all are still so blind

f1fan everytime you call her your best friend you reaffirm the lando NORIZZ name

danielricciardo facts alex_albon facts carlossainz55 facts charles_leclerc facts yukitsunoda0511 facts maxverstappen1 facts landonorris CAN YOU SHUT UP

scuderiaferrari

liked by landonorris and others

scuderiaferrari oh we thought we should just let you know our driver line up for 2023 👀 say hello to the dynamic addition to the Ferrari family, the wonderfully feisty yourusername! get ready for a season full of speed, passion, and fierce competition. Welcome to Maranello! 🇮🇹

view all 700 comments 

ynfan1 HOLY F*CK

susie_wolff wow congrats yourusername!! wishing you all the best !

yourusername thank you so much susie! your advice the last few weeks has help me so much ! ynfan1 I love when girls support girls 💓

yourusername can't wait to get started! forza ferrari ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc this is going to be incredible! congrats !!

yourusername thank you charles <33 be prepared to be sick of me lol ynfan1 so happy shes got a teammate who acc is a decent guy

ynfan2 LOLLLL I bet pierre is sick

landonorris slayed 💅

yourusername 😂😂 f1fan watch out mr norizz her new teammate is mr steal-your-girl

[astonmartinii]

hi, i was wondering if you could do one of y/n dating carlos but people start realizing she flirting with charles in the comments, at the beginning in a very discreet way, but after a while she and carlos break up and when the new season starts she’s with charles

all is fair in love and war | charles leclerc instagram au

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

y/n is happy in her relationship with carlos but all that time in the ferrari garage might have her eye wandering

(obvs no intentions to demonise anyone, this is a work of fiction and purely for entertainment purposes)

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 55,607 others

tagged: yourbff1, yourbff2

yourusername: no one i'd rather play mermaids with than you two xx

view all 9,231 comments

yourbff1 always the best time with you guys <3

yourbff2 platonic soulmates for real

carlossainz55 my pretty lady

yourusername thank you baby

charles_leclerc i thought i was your baby ?

yourusername just cause you act like a baby doesn't make you mine x

user5 what is going on here lol

user12 not them flirting under her own boyfriend's comment i can't

user34 god i wish i was her

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 112,309 others

carlossainz55: let's go spa - the second half of the season is a go!

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scuderiaferrari let's go smooth operator

yourusername good luck baby

charles_leclerc where's my good luck

yourusername i'm literally sat with you right now

user33 the hair routine is a need not a want

user19 charles and y/n once again flirting in the comments - am i the only one who finds it weird?

uer13 i mean a bit? but also like the comments are clearly jokes

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 452,091 others

charles_leclerc: monza ready 🇮🇹

view all 14,562 comments

pierregasly you clean up well calmar

yourusername part time driver, full time model

charles_leclerc you'd know all about being a model

user48 i know there's weird vibes with carlos and y/n but like as far as we know they're still together so ^^^ that is still weird

user20 call me a bad person but i want charles and y/n to get togetehr

user1 no cause their vibes have always seemed much more suited than hers and carlos

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff1 and 60,076 others

yourusername: the only man i'll ever need is mauricio (even if his hair has ruined 50% of my wardrobe)

view all 11,066 comments

user47 this caption... something is off

user60 carlos hasn't liked either and he just posted on his story so he's been active on the app

charles_leclerc but does mauricio have a boat?

yourusername you got him there

user8 okay but like at this point does she just come with the ferrari seat?

user3 tbf i wish i could be with both carlos and charles

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 223,098 others

carlossainz55: time well spent with family ❤️

view all 15,203 comments

user44 okay i'm going full conspiracy mode, but y/n has always visited carlos' family with him and the fact she's not been seen at a race since she was left at the airport... i think they've broken up

user11 noooo they were my faves but i think you might be right :(

scuderiaferrari can't wait to see them back in the garage

landonorris where was my invite?

user2 y/n rn^

f1wagsupdates

liked by user1, user2 and 220 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates: charles and y/n y/ln seen together in abu dhabi - this comes just weeks after her and carlos' break up... do we think that all those flirty comments mean they did actually cheat?

view all 13 comments

user35 they defo cheated but it's also charles so like i'd also be tempted

yourusername people can just be friends you know

user45 so true !! also like carlos has already been spotted with a new girl multiple times all the way back to when he left her at the airport, but for some reason he's the victim ???

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff1 and 61,207 others

tagged: yourbff1

yourusername: despite popular belief i am a single woman

view all 10,455 comments

charles_leclerc doesn't have to be for long

pierregasly man, you're playing a dangerous game

yourusername maybe we like a bit of danger

user32 yep i'm officially on the charles and y/n train

user10 i know we've said they're probably just joking but i genuinely hope they get together, they seem like they're good for each other

carlossainz55

liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 429,561 others

carlossainz55: no better way to do winter break

view all 14,034 comments

user13 they're so so cute

user55 omg maybe carlos might actually have a girlfriend who doesn't constantly flirt with his teammate

user30 the way that she's still be demonised for harmless comments when he was seen with isa way before carlos and y/n broke up and got with her officially within a week of the breakup

comments have been limited on this post

yourusername added to their story

[caption: pasta day is my favourite day]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 709,822 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: all is fair in love and war

view all 94,034 comments

user56 HOLY SHIT

user21 AHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername i'd fight this war all over again to end up with you

user48 I KNEW THEY WOULD BE CUTE

user88 okay now i don't feel so bad for rooting for them

f1wagsupdates

liked by user5, user9 and 330 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

f1wagsupdates: though controversial in the way it came about, i for one love this relationship - what do you guys think?

view all 14 comments

user11 carlos did this and way sooner so i am defo a fan of this relationship

user49 they slay i don't care what anyone says

user2 i love it and she's a smart queen cause she doesn't even need to buy any more new merchandise

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 98,134 others

yourusername: made the super long journey to the garage next door

view all 17,560 comments

user31 she's so so pretty

charles_leclerc thank you for making such selfless sacrifices

yourusername good thing you're worth it

user41 i need to meet her

user10 the shady hand covering the other one

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 1,023,671 others

tagged: yourusername, scuderiaferrari

view all 21,067 comments

user46 SLAY CHARLES

yourusername pretty boy with a pretty trophy - i'm so so proud of you xx

charles_leclerc you're much prettier than my trophy baby

user90 parents

carlossainz55 happy for both of you

charles_leclerc thanks bro

yourusername it was unorthodox but we're both happy now and that's all that matters

note" hope you enjoyed, this ended up so much longer than expected but i had a lot of fun writing this !! my asks are still open for any other requests xx

[libraryofloveletters]

Always You

Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood crush, alcohol and the consumption of, carlos is ever so chivalrous, confession of a crush, slightly nervous carlos cause he probably lacks rizz as the kids say these days.

Word Count: 929

Author's Note: childhood crush always fits carlos, you can't tell me otherwise.

--

The infamous Sainz Christmas party. Every year your parents dragged you along and you only went to see one person. Your motives for going haven’t strayed despite growing up. 

The Sainz Christmas Party; every year for as long as you can remember, you'd find yourself in their living room on Christmas evening.

Your parents were friends with the Sainz family, which left you to fend for yourself when you were there. You knew their children, Ana, Blanca and Carlos.

You were closest to Carlos in age, the two of you only being 3 years apart but you never really spoke. It was a hello and how are you as he passed by on his way to his friends.

As much as you hated the whole affair and your parents offered to let you stay home, you didn't.

One person in particular held your attention; Carlos - the same guy who barely gave you the time of day.

Over the years, you became quite fond of him, admiring him from afar. You knew of each other, you were friendly but you weren’t friends or anything like that. You keep up with his career and you two are grown now.

Carlos had recently turned 30 and you were 27 this year - he was at Ferrari and you had found yourself a job as an editor, the exact thing you wanted to do.

Despite your grown age, your parents brought you along to the Sainz Christmas party; not that you minded.

It was well underway at this point, dinner was had and now the drinks and conversation was flowing. You did enjoy it to some degree, Reyes out did herself with the decorations each year. A new theme for a new chapter of their lives, different colours and designs carefully thought out and placed around the massive house.

A habit you developed over the years, as long as you had a glass of something in your hand, people would leave you alone. Your glass was empty and you find your way to refill it before someone pulls you into a conversation you did not want to have.

"Looking for something?" The voice comes from behind you, you hadn't seen anyone in the kitchen when you stepped in but you turned to find Carlos behind you.

"Just some wine."

Carlos nods, picking up the bottle and walking over to you. You half expected him to hand you the bottle and leave but he refills your glass, then his own before setting the bottle down. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" He offers out of the blue.

"Uh, sure."

He gestures for you to step out of the open that was cracked open, leading out into the dark yard. Carlos's hand rests on your lower back gently, as if to guide you - he does exactly that.

Just because you were outside doesn't mean there was an exception to the decorations. The trees were lined with lights, wreaths hung on each door that you passed.

Carlos stops in front of a bench and you take that as your cue to sit. You do, the chill breeze sends a shiver down your spine.

A sip of your wine was taken in hopes of warming you out but there wasn't much hope there.

He seems to notice your shivering, setting his glass down before slipping off his jacket. Carlos carefully slips it over your shoulders.

"You didn't-" "I can't sit by and let you freeze, my mother raised me better than that."

You hum, thanking him quietly as you two drank your wine in silence. It was you that broke the silence; "you were fantastic this year."

"Thank you," he smiles, his cheeks flushed red the tiniest bit but the chilled air and wine to be blamed for that. "I didn't know you watched."

"I try too, I keep up when I'm not busy with work." You tell him, looking around the yard.

Carlos takes that moment to look at you; red dress that suited your complexion and body as if it was made for you and you only, your makeup and hair done to a T - something he always admired about you, all tied together with the black bow that held up half of your hair.

"Y/n," he whispers into the silence.

Glancing at the man, you jut your chin towards him. "Hm?"

"You look beautiful."

Now your cheeks have flushed red and you both know it's not the wine nor the cold wind blowing around the yard. "Thank you." You whispered.

"It's my favourite look, y'know."

Head cocked to the side, you looked over at him. "What is?"

"When you get all red and quiet, it's sweet. You look so.. innocent."

You can't help the giggle, shaking your head. "You almost sound nervous there, Carlos."

"I am," he chuckles, chewing at his bottom lip for a moment.

"No way," you laughed, nudging his shoulder with yours. "You ? Nervous? No way."

Carlos nods, smiling at you. It falls quiet between the two of you, the bells from the cathedral ring, signalling that evening mass was over. His hand rested next to yours on the bench, his pinky brushing against yours. You take the soft touch as a cue to interlock your fingers with his.

He squeezes your hand gently, smiling at you.

"¡Carlos! ¿Dónde estás?" (carlos! where are you?) You can hear Reyes shout from around the corner, her voice carrying through the silence.

Carlos takes that as his cue to head in, his hand still interlocked with yours as he stands. He leans down, his lips pressed to yours for a quick kiss.

Your cheeks are as red as the lipstick that was faint against his lips.

"Feliz Navidad, y/n."

[theemporium]

alright, i think sometimes we (i) forget about how big max is, because the drivers are always covered up in their team kits or race suits so it’s easy to forget or just not notice what they’re like under all those layers (unless it’s carlos/charles because the ferrari admins exclusively post thirst content) but anyways i saw a video of max boxing outside without a shirt and i 🫠 he’s so strong and he’s broad and don’t even get me started on his thighs. i just know how easy it would be for him to throw me around and manhandle me and i volunteer as tribute for that

and ooo what if he knows how much you like watching him work out so maybe he does it outside while you’re sunbathing or reading or something just to work you up. he smirks when he sees you peeking over your book at him and just asks if you need anything amd part of you is like ‘yeah i need something’ but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction

I SAW THAT TIKTOK AND I HAD THE EXACT SAME THOUGHT LIKE??? HE IS SO BIG AND BEEFY PLEASE

but the book is abandoned so quickly and you’re so shamelessly staring at him. however, you hate that it makes him all cocky and everything so you retaliate. maybe you’re blunt with what you want until you see him blush, or maybe you prance around in some shorts and a bikini top, anything that will have his head spinning in the same way

and the boy is STRONG so he barely breaks a sweat as he throws you over his shoulder, smacks your ass when you try to wiggle free and takes you straight inside because he’s done playing games and he wants you now🫠

[whorekneecentral]

  i don’t want to be touched this time,  i just want to focus on you right now.  + ferrari!seb and engineer!reader

you’re so evil for this.  -- this one’s for the car fuckers

Pre season testing with any other driver was a normal 9-5 stitch but when it came to Sebastian, 9-5 really meant 9 to whatever time he decided he was ready to call it a day and more often that not, it wasn’t until late into the evening. 

Day 4 of testing and Sebastian sat on the stool next to you, comparing the stats from last season’s car to the ones formed today. 

“I still think the weight is off,” he mutters, sliding off the stool. The red shirt clung to his chest, the race suit hanging off his hips as he slid his fingers over the halo. 

You spun on the stool, facing the man as he inspected the car. “I don’t know Seb, might just have been the track temp.” 

“I doubt it.” He looks over at you and your brows furrow. 

“Would you like to do my job for me, Sebastian?” You stuck the papers out for him and he smiled, “no, y/n. You do it much better than I do, and you look much better doing it, too.” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment. You had been his race engineer since his second second at Ferrari and he was going into his 4th season with the red team. Every year since, you've come so close to the championship that you could taste it, touch it, feel it and yet, it slips though your fingers. Sebastian was determined to make this car a machine; a monster made to win, doesn’t matter how many hours he’s got to spend at the track, and by extension, how many hours you had to spend. 

He leans into the car, his hand pressed to the side. “What’s the chassis made of?” He asks and you shrug. “Some sort of aluminium.” 

“Not carbon?” 

“I don’t think so, why?” 

“I didn’t even know they were still allowed to use that,” he says, “come feel this.” 

You get off the stool and walk over to him, he pats inside of the car and you lean over to feel it, your hand on the cold metal. Seb’s hand rests over yours, his other hand on your waist. 

“See? You can feel how thick it is. It’s too heavy, it’s dragging the car down.” He says to you but the words go in one ear and out the other. 

You studied the way his eyes fixed on you as he spoke; eye contact was always something he did when he spoke to people, didn’t matter who. The way his hands moved when he spoke pulled your focus until he called for you. 

“Y/n?” He pulls your focus back. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you hear anything I said?” 

You’ve got a dopey smile on your face, “mhm kinda.” He laughed, his hand still on your waist. 

This was a typical routine for you two; pre season testing turned into car inspection and into a pre season fuck just to get it out of your systems and tonight was no exception. 

Sebastian was the one to close the gap between the two of you, you’re leaning on the side of the car when his hands slip down to rest on your ass. Your own hands coming up to tug on the hem of his shirt but he stops you. 

His lips on your jaw, down your neck and he slowly sinks down to his knees in front of you. 

“Seb,” you whispered, the man pulls one of your legs over his shoulders.

It was unseasonably warm in Maranello, Seb was thanking whatever controlled the weather because the fact that you were wearing a skirt made his job much easier. 

“Shh,” he kissed up your thigh. “Let me focus on you tonight, okay?” 

Your head falls back when you feel his tongue on you, he’s yet to move your panties and you're already a mess. Your hand tangled in his messy curls, silently thanking that he didn’t cut it yet. 

Sebastian’s eyes look up, fixed on you; your hair framing your face and your head tossed back. 

The man gets up, kissing you when he does. You can taste yourself on his lips, Seb pushes you back against the car once again, your hand slipping between the two of you as you undo his pants. Sebastian pulls your leg to hitch on his hip, your panties already pulled to the side and your dress rolled up at your hips. 

Seb pushes into you. His lips find yours, muffling your moans as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his bicep, his shirt sleeve pushed up.

At least it would be covered.

With each passing year, pre season was taking over as your favourite time of the year. 

[putting-it-into-parc]

soy lago

masterlist

lando x carlos (carlando)

summary: since carlos left for ferrari, lando has spent the last four seasons trying to move on. but then the world learns that carlos might end up anywhere next year, and lando dares to let himself hope...and puts some of those hopes down on paper.

warnings: plenty of ✨angst✨

soy lago

Sweaty, exhausted, and covered in stubborn pieces of green and yellow crepe clinging to the sticky champagne on his race suit, Lando does his very best to stand up straight, holding his P3 trophy with stiff arms. He doesn’t smile; it’s hard enough as it is remaining upright. Then he feels an arm around him. He knows its owner is clad in red—although once upon a time, he wore papaya orange. And the feeling of that arm is what lets him scrape together the will to put on some semblance of a smile as the cameras flash, capturing Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, and Lando Norris in their podium photograph of the 2024 Australian Grand Prix.

Dear Carlos,

I’ve always been rubbish with words—hell, I showed a million people on Youtube that it took me three tries to spell “heights”, in English, no less. So it shouldn’t surprise you that, when they told me I needed to go on camera and speak Italian, I downloaded Duolingo and didn’t open another app for a week straight. Never mind that it was one single sentence. I could not mess this up.

Ai nostri amici della Scuderia Ferrari ed ai loro tifosi.

I could say it in my sleep.

And yet, when the camera started staring into my soul, I still managed to fuck it up. On the very first word. They asked me later, you know, if I wanted them to edit it out…but when I watched it again it seemed right somehow. Because the truth is, they could’ve asked me to say “to our friends at Scuderia Ferrari and the famous tifosi” in plain English, and it still would have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say. So I figured it’d at least be honest.

When I joined F1 my rookie season, you had already raced for four. Two other teams. McLaren was not your whole past. At Melbourne, the season opener, I already knew by the way your eyes sparkled so hungrily talking to the press, that it would not be your future either. But for me, it was all I had, my precarious shot at making it in F1. I had something to prove.

So why was I so nervous when they stuck a camera in front of us to play that stupid game of ‘Would You Rather’? I can’t even rewatch that video now, because I already know I’ll cringe seeing myself slowly dismantling the sole of my shoe with my fingernails, hardly even able to make eye contact with you. You had a reputation of charming every teammate you got with—I won’t pretend like I didn’t scour the internet for every video you filmed with Max with Toro Rosso. You made Max Verstappen giggle like a little girl on video. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to me.

But at the Chinese GP, after Kvyat crashed me out, you came up to me in the paddock. “Wanna go on a walk?” you asked. As if you’d seen me crying in the garage. There was a little lake, a pond really, near the track, and I don’t know how many laps we must have taken around it. What I do know is that you pointed to the water, told me that in Spanish, it’s called “el lago”. And that you stopped me from feeling like I didn’t belong, didn’t deserve to be in F1.

I had a lot of retirements that first season. And after each one, I knew I’d hear your voice, or see a text on my phone, or once, a little paper airplane in my driver’s room. Every time, the words were the same. And every time, I wanted it more. I just didn’t want to admit to myself that at some point, it became less about debriefing the race failures and more about the person I had an excuse to see off the track. Away from the cameras. Away from everybody else.

On the flight back to London, Lando scrolls through headline after headline, all pondering the next move for the triumphant Spaniard. Red Bull, Red Bull, Mercedes, Red Bull, Kick Sauber—Lando chuckles at that one—Red Bull, McLaren, Mercedes, Red Bull…

The speculation about McLaren is clearly a joke. And yet, it makes Lando’s breath catch in his throat…fuck, if Max Verstappen can DNF on Lap 2, give Ferrari a 1-2 podium with Lando in 3rd after the team told Oscar to give it up for him…clearly, crazier things have happened in F1.

The pandemic hurt, a lot. It’s all a blur now, logging onto my computer day after day, gaming with George and Alex and Charles to pass the time, refreshing Instagram in case you posted a story from Madrid. Until one day, the first day of May, the phone rang. You told me you were in Woking, that you were going to be at the MTC but you’d explain later. And then, those five magical words.

“Wanna go on a walk?”

Maybe we were all a little crazy during lockdown. Let’s just call it that. How else do you explain the fact that I spent twenty minutes picking a pair of jeans after spending four months in sweatpants, another twenty picking a shirt that wasn’t bright orange? What excuse do I have for dumping every beanie I owned onto my bed, cursing myself for shaving my hair off, even if it was to raise money for COVID? It was a miracle I made it to the MTC at all.

You were already outside by the time I skidded into the parking lot. The sun was low in the sky, not quite setting, turning the lake lavender, cotton candy, papaya. You faced the lake, just a dark silhouette against the colors. Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe. I just knew you were going to say something…big. I wanted to tell you so many things, how I’d been counting down the days until lockdown would be over, how not a day went by that I didn’t wonder what you were doing, how you had become someone that I could never be close enough to. You made me greedy.

I knew something was wrong when you saw me and smiled. It was happy…but not the smile I knew. This smile was tainted, as if someone had poured a single drop of vinegar into a glass of milk, and you could taste it starting to curdle just a bit.

“Lando,” you said. Another red flag. Normally, you drew out the “o” in my name in a tantalizing singsong. “My muppet friend, I have something to tell you. Something exciting.”

I wished time would stop right then. I didn’t want to hear what exciting thing you had to tell me. But no amount of wishing could stop what came next.

“Ferrari. They offered me a contract. Two years in their fastest car…I cannot believe it, my muppet friend. I will race for them in 2021.”

The sun hadn’t set yet, but there were stars in your eyes. Stars that I had seen since your—our—very first race with McLaren. Carlos Sainz, destined for champions, for greatness. There would not be room for slow cars, midfield teams; there would not be room for Lando Norris. And I knew this from day one. So why, looking at the stars that filled your eyes, did mine start to fill with tears?

I smiled in the hopes you’d think I was simply overcome with happiness on your behalf. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” you asked.

I had wanted so badly to find the words that would’ve made your journey all the way from Spain to see me worth it. But even if I had them, all of those words were useless now. And in the moment, I could only think of one thing.

“Soy lago,” I said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I am lake?” you laughed. “Your Spanish has always been terrible.”

Then I told you that my tears could fill the very lake we were looking at. Watched the realization dawn on your face. Heard you call after me as I ran back to my car, so you wouldn’t have to see any more of those tears.

In his room in the MTC, Lando sits, clicking his pen compulsively. Balls of crumpled-up paper surround him, ghosts of past attempts at penning a letter worthy of its reader. He curses his messy penmanship, curses his inability to spell anything remotely non-phonetic correctly. He resorts to writing in pencil, then painstakingly tracing each letter over with ink. By the time he’s finished, the sun has begun its descent towards the horizon. Just in time, he thinks.

Later, I texted you my congratulations, assured you how happy I was for you, how much you deserved it. I meant it. But maybe you sensed that something was up, because even when the new season started and we no longer shared a garage, you kept sending me texts after every race. Each one was the same: “Wanna go on a walk?”

I couldn’t tell you if it was an act of self-preservation, because of how badly it hurt to see you with Charles at Ferrari, or if I wanted to feel the twisted, bitter satisfaction from knowing that I got to reject you after you left me. Either way, the excuses were simple enough. Meetings with Mark. Last-minute training sessions at the gym. And my favorite—dinner with Danny Ric, my new Carlos Sainz.

Come to think of it, I never did end up getting dinner with Danny while we were teammates.

When I did show up, I’d make sure to tell you about how charismatic Danny was, how good the banter was, how hard we made each other laugh off-track. Only later did I realize that everything I was saying was what I would see in your C2 videos with Charles, which I followed with a level of manic compulsion that scared even me.

Eventually, the texts stopped coming. I thought I’d feel…relieved, or at least like I was moving on. And maybe I tried to tell myself I felt that way, but in reality, everything was just empty. I couldn’t have all of you, and I was so greedy that I chose rather to have none of you at all.

Lando searches his contacts for a name that doesn’t exist. Carlos Sainz: Not found, his phone tells him infuriatingly. With an exasperated sigh, he starts to swipe. And stops short, realizing that he had saved Carlos under Chili.

His thumb hovers uncertainly over the keyboard. He presses send.

Me Wanna go on a walk?

Time, teammates, and races passed, and as you got used to seeing yourself in red, I got used to being a Formula 1 driver, then a team leader as Oscar came in. I buried us deeper and deeper with each passing season and perfected the art of a casual hug on the podium, a cheerful clap on the back if we happened to pass each other on the paddock. I had only just come to terms with the realization that we would likely never be the same again when I woke up on the first day of February, 2024, to the news that Lewis would be taking your seat at Ferrari next year. Leaving the question of what color you would wear, if not red, open to every shade of the rainbow.

Then the dreams started.

When you came off a surgery hardly two weeks ago and snatched P1 at Melbourne, I dreamt that I walked into the motorhome, saw someone wearing a papaya cap with his back turned to me. And I knew it wasn’t Oscar, because those broad shoulders, the shock of hair that even a cap couldn’t contain, could only belong to a certain Spanish driver I knew so well, once upon a time.

You turned around, just like I knew you would. Smiled in a way I haven’t seen in four years. “Landooo…my muppet friend,” you crooned, drawing out the “o” the way you always used to do. You wrapped your arms around me…you always did have such strong arms.

“Chili. I should have done this long ago,” I told you, before the kiss…

A little gray bubble appears on the screen. Three dots, pulsing to the time of Lando’s pounding heart. Then:

Chili Can’t today 😞 dinner with Charles!! Celebrating that Ferrari podium 🥳🇮🇹

He stares at the messages. A minute passes, then two. He gently folds up the note, tucking it into his pocket as he stands and walks out of the MTC.

Lando looks out over the manmade lake in front of the building. The sunset reflected in it has uniformly turned it the exact shade of his hoodie. There will be no lavender, no cotton candy pink tonight.

He tugs the letter out of his pocket, unfolds it, and reads it one last time. A weary sigh. Carefully refolds it. A little airplane takes shape in Lando’s hands.

Four years of pushing you, thoughts of you, my feelings for you away, all gone with one headline. I hated myself for falling again so easily, but nobody can deny how addictive the feeling of hope is. Carlos, Chili, I had so many regrets, and maybe this is a sign that I should stop living with them from now on.

And if there’s one thing I regretted the most through all this, it’s not that I didn’t ask you to stay that evening at the MTC. It’s that I didn’t give you enough reason not to leave in the first place. Didn’t tell you what you meant to me when I could, didn’t try to make you see that there could be something here…something bigger maybe even than racing itself.

I don’t know if you’ll be wearing papaya, or navy, or (god forbid) highlighter green next year, but it doesn’t matter. I should have done this long ago, but that doesn’t matter either. All that matters is that you know how important you are, and have always been, to me. Know how the best podium celebrations and the fizziest champagne paled in comparison to the little blue bubbles of texts from you on my phone. Know that my trophies sit on a shelf collecting dust, but the paper airplane you made me never leaves my sight.

You are the stars in my eyes. In my wildest dreams, you’ll give me the chance to convince you that I can be that for you too. Teammates or not.

But until then…

In one fluid motion, he sends the plane sailing into the air, watches it catch the breeze until, robbed of its lift, it skims the surface of the lake, sending ripples emanating from where it first made contact with the water.

The plane bobs gently in the lake until it soaks up too much water to stay afloat. Lando watches it list gradually to the side, slowly disappearing from view as the paper disintegrates.

He turns and walks away from the lake.

Soy lago.

—Lando

notes: saw carlos explain lando’s comment on carlos’ mclaren → ferrari announcement post back in 2020 and have been unwell since also, yes, the mclaren building (mtc) does have a lake and boy the sunset does do it a lot of favors… easter eggs: lando not being able to spell, the damned ferrari video (where lando actually did have to start over and it RUINED ME), Would You Rather

more fics here! thanks for reading as always :)

[laura1633]

Currently thinking of the chaotic mastermind that is Fred Vasseur and always the alphabet of Ferrari strategies. It is plan V for Verstappen.

Fred noticed how Max just is around Charles and decides to capitalise on it. He purposely chose a blue race suit, makes sure they’re in the drivers press conference together, and tells Charles to stick as close as possible to Max the whole weekend. Charles is a bit confused but he’s never one to turn down time with Max and he’d like to see his reaction to Charles properly flirting anyway!

Cue Charles being as distracting as possible either in a cute way by excitedly talking about introducing their pets to each-other in Max’s ear on live tv or by being a sexual menace and bending down to pick up his AirPods directly in front of Max after being indecent with a water bottle. It’s hot in Miami and he’s very clumsy okay 😅

The actual plan V is called out over the car radio and Charles has an early lap dance/battle with a very confused and worked up Max before the Red Bull can completely pull away- racing directly with Charles is not helping the situation at all. After one particularly good overtake Charles blows a kiss towards Max and the Dutchman goes completely wide losing valuable positions!

Everyone agrees it’s a very successful Ferrari strategy and Charles is pleased with how his own experiment went- it gives him the courage to ask Max out in fact.

Haha Ferrari getting inventive - Charles blowing Max a kiss in the race would probably be the only thing to put him off his race! It's a risky strategy though because I can imagine Max racing twice as hard to get back to the front alongside Charles so he can get another kiss blown.

Ferrari getting all the way down to strategy V would not surprise me in the slightest though 😂

But then Red Bull don't want to be beaten on strategy so the next race they will probably make Max walk into the press conference and just sit in Charles' lap or something 😍 Max does it happily because by then he is already (secretly) dating Charles.

[il-predestinato]

Interview with Charles Leclerc from Sportweek (La Gazetta dello Sport): “I play the piano, I love art, I want to fly. And I dreamed of Ferrari” (published January 7, 2023).

What is fashion for you?

Charles: “A way of expressing oneself without speaking. I realized this when I started travelling all over the world, thanks to F1, visiting countries and cities I didn't know before.

“I realized that dressing well had a different meaning according to different cultures and traditions. That's when fashion really started to interest me, I would say from 2017, even though I've always liked it.”

What was the next step?

Charles: “I started attending fashion shows, then I became a testimonial for Giorgio Armani and then I came more and more into contact with this environment.”

You also take great care over the graphics of your racing helmets. Which design do you like the most?

Charles: “Probably the one used in France (2022), with the reproduction on the two halves of the photographs of my father Hervé and Jules Bianchi.”

Ferrari is red, but for your 488 Pista you chose a different colour.

Charles: “At that time I was using a matte black helmet with the Monégasque flag going from the front to the back. So I decided to order the car exactly the same. I still like it very much.”

What did you think when you saw yourself in a Ferrari suit for the first time?

Charles: “It was a very big emotion, because it was my childhood dream to get into F1 and race for the Prancing Horse, even though at that time I was not yet an official Ferrari driver (only FDA).”

Do you have any good-luck charms you don't part with?

Charles: “I had some as a kid. My grandmother always used to sew a cross inside my overalls, under the sponsors' logos, but that tradition has disappeared since she is no longer here…”

How do you express your creativity?

Charles: “Mainly through music. I play the piano and invent my own pieces. I will never be as good with a pencil at drawing.”

How do you choose the clothes you wear every day?

Charles: “There's a very classic part of me, which seeks simplicity and comfort, and another more creative part that leads me to play around with streetwear.

“I let myself be guided by the mood of the day, by how I feel, because dressing is a way of making something clear with one's image.”

Will we see a clothing line of your own like Hamilton did?

Charles: “I had started the project, but I stopped. Maybe in the future.”

Do you ever talk about fashion with Lewis Hamilton?

Charles: “Sometimes we discuss the brands we like. He really has good taste and a lot of courage to show off the strangest looks when he comes to the circuits.”

Favourite colours or colours you would never wear?

Charles: “These days I prefer grey, beige and white. I'm not a big fan of fuchsia, in the sense that I wouldn't see myself dressed all in fuchsia, but I've worn that too.”

How do you feel about walking the catwalk?

Charles: “I'm not comfortable. Too many stares on me. But I like to watch the show and observe the more unusual garments. I was at the Ferrari Style show in Milan last year and before that at Armani.”

Try describing the feeling of driving an F1 car to someone who does not know racing. Valentino Rossi, when he tested the Ferrari, said: It is faster than I thought.

Charles: “A nice definition, because it is difficult for a normal person to think about the speed of a F1 car. I always make the comparison with the Rollercoaster. It's like being up there, but keeping everything under control.”

Why are you happy racing?

Charles: “For the adrenaline and because on the track I feel free.”

Do you like motorbikes?

Charles: “I have one motorbike, customised, which I bought in Bali when I went there on a trip with my best friends. We rented it on the spot and I wanted to take it with me to Monte Carlo, even though it was a mess to get it registered to ride there.”

Why that particular motorbike?

Charles: “Because of the memories it holds. I had just arrived in F1 and I decided to take all my closest friends on holiday, for the first time outside Europe. We had a great time.”

Do you still think of getting a flying license?

Charles: “I've already had a few lessons, I'm now at 11 to 13 hours of flying, let's say I have the basics. I had to stop, I hope to start again in 2023. There is a lot of theory to study and I obviously like the practice more.”

How was the feeling?

Charles: “Excellent. I like the stall tests, because there's adrenaline, but also checking the plane in general. And to say that I've always been afraid of flying...”

What do you mean?

Charles: “Even though I've taken planes countless times in my life, I wasn't calm. Now, knowing what pilots do and all the options there are in case of unexpected events, has reassured me.”

Even today you are karting like when you were a kid. Would it be nice to discover a new Leclerc?

Charles: “I would like to help talented young people, who don't have the means, to emerge and make their dreams come true. However, it is a project that takes time and which I therefore see as possible only in the future.”

What does it mean to be the hero of so many very young people?

Charles: “Every time I come to Maranello, outside the Ferrari factory there are always kids waiting for me. In recent years, F1 has regained popularity, also thanks to Netflix. It's nice to see a child's eyes light up when we make a photo. A small gesture is enough, which does not cost effort, to give joy to others.”

Do you feel like an example to follow?

Charles: “I try to be myself, behaving well, if this can then serve as an inspiration for those who observe me, I'm happy about it.”

Translation by vetteleclerc.

[silverstonesainz-archive]

always you

in a sea of red, he always looks for you.

summary: all the moments of the austria grand prix, boiling down to one thing... pairing: charles leclerc x alpine fem!reader (nicknamed fleur) word count: 5.3k warnings: none note: here is a charles pov. i might have a couple of parts of this series before i wrap it up and try to work on something new. hope u like this one. and thank u @bigdiccricc for reading it through for me <3 ily forever masterlist

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @coffeehurricanes @miniminescapist @amsofftrack @melancholyy-scorpio @strawberrypaul @starxqt @somanyfandomsbruh @allisonxf1 @buenadiabebeta @ohthemisssery

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

Free Practice 1

Charles sits at the top most floor of the Ferrari motorhome, twiddling with the straw of his team water bottle as he scrolls through Instagram. This has become a regular thing, coming onto the paddock far too early for practice, and sitting on social media to pass the time. Four races have passed since Monaco, since he was forced to walk away from his only sense of normalcy. 

He hasn’t stopped beating himself up for that weekend. The words he screamed at you, the anger in his heart towards you made him sick to his stomach. You didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to carry the weight of his insecurities. And when it finally subsided, it was too late. 

You liked the peonies, at least that’s what you texted him. Merci Charles, I love them. And according to your latest instagram post, they’re sitting pretty on your dining table. He wonders if you sit at home and think of him when you look at the pretty flowers. He wonders if you look at the peonies and picture him sitting across you, because he does. 

“Charles, fifteen minutes!” 

Xavier’s voice cuts him out of his daydream. He strips off his team gear, swapping them out for a race suit. He zips it up to his waist, then grabs his helmet and water bottle before trotting down to the garage. It is busy when he arrives, men in red zooming left and right as they scramble through the garage to prepare for the first practice of the weekend. Charles smiles politely at the people in the garage, the guests Ferrari have invited to sit and watch and all the people who work tirelessly to give him as seamless of a race as possible. He steps out onto the paddock, the hot sun kissing his pale skin. 

The Alpine garage is just as busy as Ferrari’s. The people clad in blue are scrambling to and from the garage, rolling in wheels and clearing the asphalt of equipment. Charles watches as you step out onto the paddock, unaware that he is watching you just two garages down. You always did this, step out of your garage, away from the busy bodies to just soak up the sun. He admired the way your skin glowed, and the relaxed look on your face. He stepped back into his space, afraid of disrupting your peace.

“Five minutes Charles.” 

Qualifying

Free practice comes and goes, with Charles only two-tenths of a second behind Max’s time. He spends about a half hour looking over his data, talking to his engineers and team about strategy. Tire talk wears him down faster than he’d like, and soon he is off retreating into his driver’s room. He peels the red suit off his body, leaving his red under wear on. His balaclava and helmet are left on the little desk, boots and socks long forgotten in the corner. Charles flops onto his makeshift bed, phone in hand as he once again returns to social media.

Your story bubble is the first to appear, the pink and orange ring signifying you had just posted something new. You reposted the alpine graphic, showing you had finished P8 in the free practice. The next story is of you teasing Esteban, throwing something at him before erupting in a fit of giggles. 

“Vous êtes la pire!” You're the worst!

Charles taps the left part of his screen, eyes falling shut as he listens to your laugh and soft voice one more time. He hated not being there with you, hated not being the reason you’re so happy on a day like today, even after the P8 result. It’s as if his world had turned gray, the color leaving with you. 

It isn’t long before he’s back in his car, the pressures of a good qualifying session beating down on him. He needed a good result, needed something good to happen in the sea of his misery. Engineers are looking between him and the data on their screens, signaling him to test every pedal and button on his car before they finally release him. First round of qualifying, Charles was flying. He didn’t even stay out for long, securing the fastest lap before parking in the garage. 

“Xavi, updates on Fluer?” He asks over his radio. 

“Uhh one second… looks like she’s P6 at the moment. Two minutes left in qualifying.”

“Keep me posted.”

Charles sits in his car, fingers crossed in against his chest as he waits through the longest two minutes of his life. His eyes are squeezed shut, refusing to look up at the screens as his anxiety for you get’s the best of him. 

“Fluer is P4, she will go through to Q2.”

He breathes again. Relief floods his blood stream, eyes springing open and his head reclining back against his seat. That’s my girl, he thinks to himself. 

The second round of qualifying isn’t exciting either, Charles once again returning to the garage with a minute left on the clock. He looks up at the TV, watching as your blue car zooms through each turn, the clock zeroing out as you are locked into P9. 

The third round was a lot more nerve wracking than Charles would like to admit. He was fighting tooth and nail against Max for pole position, like a game of hot potato. Purple sectors are flying left and right, switching between the Ferrari and Red Bull. Max holds provisional pole, and he’s more than ready to leave the pits until his team stops him.

“What’s going on?” Charles asks, head turning left and right in confusion as his team stands frozen staring at the screen. His car is midway out of the garage, just about to be released to try for another flying lap in the last five minutes of qualifying. 

“We have a red flag. Red flag. We will not be releasing you at this time.”

“Red flag? Who? What happened?” The radio is silent as his car is pushed back into the shade of the red garage. “Xavi, who?”

“Hamilton, crashed into the barrier. He’s fine, just front suspension damage.”

Charles lets out a breath, quickly thanking Xavier. For just a moment, his world stopped and his mind brought him to the worst place. He was happy that Lewis was okay, even more so that you were. 

Cars were allowed onto the track with three minutes to spare, before George crashed out and interrupted his flying lap. Frustration grows in him as the time ticks down, the pressure increases as his engineer reminds him that Max is still ahead of him by such a small margin of time. Seconds are left on the clock when Charles is finally allowed to add pressure to the throttle, wheels turning and taking him through the track. He holds onto pole position for a mere two seconds before Max crosses the line with a time two-hundredths faster than his. 

The post qualifying interview is a blur, Charles spewing ready made responses about how the sprint tomorrow could change things up and that he’s hopeful for the race even if he isn’t on pole. His mouth moves without much thought, and soon he is waving off the camera as he walks up to join his teammate while waiting for Max. Charles’s eyes scan the small crowd of fans with their phones out, snapping photos of the three and waving at them to gain their attention. He looks for your blue helmet with the pink 8 in the sea of heads, but you are nowhere to be found.

The crowd roars for Max as he poses with the Pirelli tire, grinning from ear to ear. The two Ferrari boys walk over to join him for a photo, and it is when Charles looks at the camera does he finally spot you. Your hair is in a mess of waves, just freshly taken out of a braid. There are marks on your face left by your balaclava and your suit is just slightly undone. Your skin is flushed slightly, lips parted as you pant gently. He smiles at you, and you return the gesture and a thumbs up for good measure. He looks away as the camera shutters over and over. When the three finally disband, walking their separate ways, Charles lost you again. You were nowhere to be spotted in the sea of people who screamed for him. 

He walks past the mics and camera, clambering over wires and whatnot in an effort to find you. And when he does, you are walking into your garage deep in conversation with Lo. He stands at the end of the paddock, watching as you move further and further from him until he can no longer see you.

Free Practice 2

Charles hated coffee. He actually never grew a liking to it, unlike you. When you were about fourteen, you had started drinking black coffee with three sugars, just like your dad made it. You were always sitting at the table with his and your dad, enjoying a cup while the two men talked about what dads talk about. Today, Charles tried coffee. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, and truth be told he felt a little duller than he’d like. Your comments about being unable to start the day without coffee rings in his head, and so he thought he’d try it. 

He remembers the look of satisfaction after your first sip, the tension in your shoulders leaving. He craved that, the feeling of pure content, even if it’s from a drink he didn’t even like.

Do you still like it black with three sugars, or have you grown out of that?

Charles stands by the coffee machine in the motorhome, awaiting a response that might never come.

“Are you lost?”

Charles looks up from his phone to find Carlos looking at him inquisitively. Carlos maneuvers his way around the boy, grabbing himself a paper cup and brewing himself a double shot of espresso. You would never catch Charles at the coffee bar, but here he was, waiting patiently for your text back.

“No… I um…” His phone chimes as he scrambles to think of a response.

Yes. Sometimes with milk too. 

“Is Lord Perceval going to try coffee?” Carlos teases, sipping on his drink.

Are you going to drink coffee?

“Maybe.” Charles responds, grabbing another paper cup and sitting it under the coffee machine. He looks through the different blends, suddenly overwhelmed by the choices and his lack of knowledge. 

“Light roast mate, I think that might be a good start for you.” Carlos pats his shoulder before walking away. His phone chimes again.

Best start with a light roast, and maybe try some milk and more sugar. I don’t think you’d like it how I like it.

He picks a light roast brew, but doesn’t bother to add the milk or more sugar as you suggest. Just the coffee and three packets of sugar. It smells like mornings with you, comforting and simple. Your apartment always smelled of coffee in the morning. He walks up the stairs with the cup in hand, sliding in the seat across Carlos, who is typing furiously on his phone. He smells the cup again, the dark liquid staring back at him. His phone vibrates with a text from you.

Let me know what you think

He places his phone face down, finally tipping the cup to spill the warm drink into his mouth. It is bitter, the coffee much stronger than the sugar. He takes a small sip before setting the cup down. Charles hated coffee.

Carlos laughs at his teammate’s reaction, leaning over to look into Charles’s cup. “Mate, milk and creamer are a thing.” 

Charles hated coffee, but god did he love you. And he wanted to love what you did. 

“It’s fine.” Charles waves him off, snatching up his cup and taking another sip. He tries his best to suppress the grimace that is fighting its way on his face from the bitter taste. “Tastes just fine.” 

Carlos smirks, nodding at his friend before leaning back in his chair and redirecting his attention to his phone. There is a weird aftertaste left in his mouth, strong and bitter, very unpleasant. He flips his phone over, a new text on his screen.

You didn’t add milk or creamer did you?

The morning flies by, and soon he is once again walking the garage and weaving his way around the busy bodies. He steps out onto the paddock, looking to his right and once again finding you, head tilted towards the sun with your eyes closed. Your hair is neatly twisted into a braid, a few strands framing your face nicely. Charles is frozen in place, admiring your beauty and serenity. You don’t notice him, not even as you look around and turn towards your garage. 

Charles climbs into his bright red Ferrari, pulling out right behind your baby Blue. The pace is slow all the way to the end of the pit lane, and with a quick raise of your hand to wave him off, you speed away in your car. The Monegasque isn’t too far behind, keeping up with you and overtaking you after turn four. For the hour, it’s as if it is only you two on the track. You do your best to keep up with his Ferrari, but the differences in make up make it hard for you. But you try like hell, doing your fair share of overtakes in the brief twenty something laps before your team calls you in and ends your time in free practice to preserve your tires. 

The last of his laps, Charles spends in boredom. He zooms through the track, securing the fastest time with his teammate five-hundredths of a second behind. His heart rate is on the come down from the exhilarating battles with you, cooling like his tires as he is backed into his side of the garage. He climbs out of his car with ease, pulling off his helmet and balaclava and putting it aside. Charles barely focuses on the numbers, eyes following along on the replay of the last session, the way your baby Blue flies seamlessly through the track. He can nearly see your smile under your helmet in the moments you overtook him. He can hear your little yes’ and gotchas as you swerve around him. 

It makes him smile. 

Sprint Race

There are nerves running through him as he paces back and forth in his room. The caffeine was probably getting to him. He was able to swallow down a couple more sips of it, before chugging his entire water bottle. Charles never really liked coffee for this reason, the jitters, the shaky hands, and the inability to sit still. He looks up at the clock, the second hand ticking by ridiculously slow. 

He cusses softly, zipping his race suit all the way up and making his back down to the paddock. Charles climbs into his car without a word, without much argument, just ready to implement plan A until his team names another letter. He is pushed onto the grid, spot number two just behind the Red Bull. Ten minutes before the sprint is supposed to start, so he figures he can climb out of the car and take a look around. He pulls his helmet off, balaclava on as he looks around the grid. He spots his best friend in the tenth spot, your car just ahead of him. What he does note is the frustration laced in your body language. The irritation is obvious in the way you throw your hands up. Your voice also carries, even with your helmet over your face the sound of purring engines. He can’t make what you’re saying, just that your voice is pitched angrily. You kick your covered tires, ripping off your helmet and balaclava and stomping away from your car. 

Charles follows your figure as you climb through the gate, hopping onto the other side. He overhears Will Buxton as he approaches the front of the grid, talks of how your car is refusing to start and will have to retire before the race even starts. There is an urge to run after you, to call out. But his team calls for him, and he is forced to sit in and get ready for the sprint. 

Just as it played out in qualifying, Charles is staring down Max’s rear wing til the end. He is frustrated, no dimples or bright eyes. Just furrowed brows and the feeling of blind optimism as he answers the questions laid out for him. His mind wanders over to you, wondering how you’re doing after dropping to the bottom of the grid without much of a fighting chance. 

He knows you’d be upset, sitting in the garage as you figure out where it all went wrong. Hell if you could, you would rewire your car yourself. He always loved that about you, loved your willingness to learn and do more. Loved your stubbornness and insistent need to do things yourself. 

Charles twiddles the sprint medal in his fingers as he strolls past his garage. He can’t help his curiosity, his feet taking him all the way to the bright blue garage. He passes Esteban’s side, the quieter garage contrasting your busy one. Just as he had guessed, you were still there, clad in your black race suit with your hair still twisted in a braid. Your legs are crossed as you sit on the floor, watching helplessly as your mechanics try to fix your baby Blue. 

“Don’t think you should be here.” You mumble, not bothering to look up at him. “It’s kind of hard to miss the red in all this blue.” 

“Missed you out there Fluer.” He says, leaning against the side of the garage door. 

“Yeah… good job today Charles.” There is defeat in your voice, “P2. You’ll get him tomorrow.” 

He watches as you ride to your feet, turning your back on him as you walk deeper into the motor home. You never look up at him once, never smile even as you congratulate him. You looked deflated, tired, downright sad as you walked away from your car. Charles walked back to the red side, head hanging low in defeat even if he hadn’t really lost. 

On days like today, on days with a retirement or just bad result, normally you both would find refuge in the other. Aside from Monaco, it was easy. It was easy to melt in the other and to feel safe while doing so. He can picture all the moments you spent on his chest, tracing patterns against him quietly as he played with your hair. There were never words needed, just the company of the other was enough.

Monaco was different, it was like something inside him changed. He was never that angry, especially with you. And truth be told, he wasn’t even angry with you that day either. He was angry with himself, angry at the streets he grew up on, betraying him again. All that anger was meant to be directed at the world, but instead you caught the brunt of it. You absorbed every blow, every insult, every bitter feeling Charles felt that day. You were right, for a second he loathed you. He hated what you were able to do, hated that he has never done what you did with ease. But the brief moments of abhor never overpowered his love for you. It never surpassed the level of immense joy he felt when he rewatched the race for you, or the admiration as he watched the videos of you on the top step. No amount of hatred and anger could surpass all the pride he felt for you, even if for a moment it seemed like it did.

As he walks away from the Alpine garage, his mind races through a million words he could say to make you smile. He thinks of all the jokes, the cheesy pick up lines you hate so much, just about anything that would make you smile. He thinks of saying all the things he should’ve said in Monaco. But even as his mind moves full speed ahead, his feet don't take him back. His body does the logical thing and just keeps moving further and further away from you. 

Race Day

He’s awake, alone in bed. The sheets are soft, but they only smell of him and it bothers him. The only reason he climbs out of bed is to brew a pot of coffee, and then he is right back in the covers. The coffee smells cheap, but it’s still that same deep smell that gives him comfort. It’s memories of you wrapped around him, the skin of your cheek pressed against his chest and the sound of your voice thick with sleep. 

He lays in bed until he is nose blind to the brewed drink. It’s then, when the pot is littered in condensation and there is no longer smoke coming from the opening, does he decide to start his day. Charles goes through the motions, staying on his side of the sink. Even with two months since your break up, Charles moves like you’re still around. He leaves space on the sink for your make-up, unfolding the second towel for you when you finish showering, and even sleeping on the left side of the bed so you can roll in with ease. Hell, he still leaves the spare key at the front desk for you to pick up when you need it. 

But you haven’t needed it in two months. 

The paddock is buzzing with people. Fans express their excitement, the utmost faith they have in their Il Predestinato to finish in front. It’s almost heartwarming, the faith they have in his craft even when he is doubting himself so much. He nearly misses you walking in, with your blue polo tucked neatly into your white tennis skirt and hair flowing effortlessly down your back. He watches as you wave at fans, smiling in pictures, and signing various merchandise before walking away towards your motorhome. Charles says goodbye to the tifosi, before jogging to catch up with you. 

“Will I be seeing you in the points today, Bien-aimée?” 

You whip your head around, hair effortlessly tossing over your shoulder. There is a playful smile on your lips, small but still there for him. 

“You can count on it, Predestinato.” 

And with a wink, you jog away to join Lo and Ella all the way to the Alpine motorhome. Charles feels like he’s in middle school, heart beating fast at the playful interaction. It felt like a little courtyard crush, even if he knows deep down that it has and will always be more. 

Charles is scribbling in notebooks and analyzing data all morning, before finally getting in the back seat of the car for the drivers parade. He waves at fans, making playful banter with his teammate all the while. And every now and again, he looks behind him to see you laughing and smiling up at something Esteban has said. There is a jealousy that sparks up in the pit of his gut, and he is forced to turn away. 

You always had a great relationship with your team, which included Esteban. Hell, the two of you have joined him and his girlfriend on several double dates. The sight behind him isn’t new, and yet it still burns. It still hurts to see you so happy without him, so happy while he’s drowning in misery. 

Charles tries not to think much of it as he stands by his car on the front row. He drinks his water, observes the mechanics in different uniforms running to and from cars. He watches different drivers begin to get in the proper headspace. Pierre has his AirPods popped in and Daniel is in a very low squat. He looks past his fellow competitors, all the way to the bottom of the grid as you sit on your blanketed tire in pure concentration. He knows the songs playing through your headphones, probably some heavy bass and hip hop beat blaring to get your heart pumping. He can see the way you shake your hands before resting them on your lap. You’re in your element, in your own piece of paradise before the race. 

With the anthem out of the way, and the drivers returning to their cars, Charles is quick to hop into his own. There is a soft knock knock on the top of his helmet, and when he looks up he sees the back of your race suit. He smiles to himself, hands gripping the wheel. It was your good luck ritual, ones kept for days you especially believed in him and he doubted himself. It was your signal of reassurance in the chaos of the grid, a quick gesture before you are off in your own car.

Charles sits in anticipation, watching as the lights go on one by one, slow and teasing. Finally, the lights are out and away he goes. The race flies by, all 71 laps. He finally overtakes Max in lap 12, holding onto the lead until he has to pit. The race is exhilarating for the first half, and the win is as sure as his in the final laps even with the throttle not fully working. The win was what he needed, an answer to the never ending string of bad luck. 

He did it, he fucking did it. 

“P1 Charles, P1. Good job!”

He cheers into the radio, spewing thanks in Italian and French with sighs of relief.

“And Fluer?” He asks, slowing down in his cool down lap. 

“P10. She is P10.”

Charles smiles, speeding up by your car as it comes to view and waving over at you. You wave back, cutting your car some slack as you allow Charles to drive in front of you. You follow behind him all the way to the pit lane, parking your car just a couple of meters away from his number one spot. He parks, jumping out of his car and running into the sea of red who welcome him with such a loving embrace. It isn’t long until he is in front of the camera, dimples and bright eyes as he talks about his race. He is beaming, happiness coursing through his veins as the world around him cheers him on.

The top step felt right, he felt like he belonged. He was in his rightful place, he was finally winning. This was the momentum he longed for since Monaco. He stands with his arms behind his back, eyes shut as he soaks up the sun. His national anthem plays, and he mouths the words quietly. His head sways side to side ever so slightly. 

Charles looks down at the crowd, the sea of red staring up at him in adoration. And then he spots you, the blue detail of your suit bright in the swarm of red. He can see you, looking up at him with such pride and… love. His smile dims, just wide enough for you to know that he sees you, that he’s smiling at you. You wave up at him, another thumbs up for good measure. The world around the two of you seem to dim. It was just you in the crowd, staring up at him with such pride and joy. He felt undeserving to be looked upon in such a way, especially by you. 

E ren nun ne scangerà,  Tantu ch'u suriyu lüjerà;

And nothing will change As long as the sun shines;

He shakes off his guilt, daydream interrupted by the Italian anthem blaring through the speakers. He looks away, eyes back up on the sea of people who stare up at him.

It isn’t long until Charles is showered in champagne, the cheers and fanfare loudly ringing in his ear. Champagne gets everywhere, soaking him underneath his race suit. He takes the remainder of his bottle, walking to the edge of the stage and spraying his team. You were no longer in the mess of people, your blue suit nowhere to be found as he douses the crowd in the leftover champagne. 

Post Race: Media Pen and On…

Max congratulates him on the way out, a pat on his back as he compliments the drive he had today. All his competitors do the same, greeting him and complimenting him on a job well done. He walks into the media pen, black cap traded for his numbered red one. The journalists are swooning over him, complimenting him left and right and he can’t help but grin. 

“Fluer had some nice things to say about you, she was just in here. She was cheering for you too, have you heard the radio?”

Charles shakes his head, “Haven’t had the time no… what did she say?”

“She said, ‘I knew he could do it. I was fighting my battles from the bottom of the grid, but it’s good to know that he was doing the same in front. I’m proud of him, I always am.’” 

Charles’ cheeks turn pink. “Ahhh… well I’m always thankful for her support. Feels good and… yeah. No, it feels great. I’ll have to thank her later.”

He doesn’t last long with the Media, answering all the same questions in different ways before he is finally allowed to return to his room. He slides his door open, quick to flop on the bed in the corner of the room as he soaks in the day. The win has settled, the victory is done and over with. He’s empty again, incomplete and lost. 

You would normally be waiting here, sitting on his bed already out of your race suit. You would have a snack in hand, maybe even some juice to keep you company as you wait for Charles to finish his business. He would normally be greeted with a kiss, sweet French words and promises of a treat waiting for him at home. He finally sits in his lonesome, and realizes that this is his first win without you by his side. His first win without you is so bittersweet. 

There is a soft knock on the door before it slides open. Andreas smiles, slipping into the tiny room with a bag in his hands. “From Fluer.” 

Charles never moved so fast in his life, scrambling over to him to grab the bag. Andreas chuckles and backs out of the room, allowing Charles to enjoy his gifts on his own. There is a bottle of water, a bag of candies, and a little note at the bottom of the bag. He pulls out each one, setting them on the desk. His eyes water, the idea that you’re still thinking about him softening the ache in his heart.

Predestinato; 

Drink lots of water, because I know you forget in the midst of your celebration. And some coffee candies, so you don’t have to deal with the bitter brew I like. 

Congratulations, another win for the books. I'm so proud of you.

Your Fluer.

There is a doodled flower by your name, messy with uneven petals and the pen marks smeared from the rush. He chuckles, tears spilling onto his cheeks. Your Fluer, his Fleur. 

He pops a candy into his mouth, the sweet artificial flavor of coffee coating his tongue. You were with him, always with him, even if you weren’t. You were there, in the form of a messily drawn flower and coffee candy. 

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

send in an ask if you want to be part of my f1 taglist!

[toppersjeep]

Chapter 6- All For Love Charles LeClerc

Masterlist

Elena’s POV

With summer break being almost over ,I knew all the drama surrounding me and Charles would begin to start.

“Have you seen these tweets” I said. “Yeah tweets,messages it’s whatever” Charles said. “But why would Daniel tweet that” I said. “I don’t know love” Charles said. “I can’t deal with this petty shit” I said. “Then don’t” he said taking my phone.

“Charles” I said. “Get your suit on and we are going to hang out on the boat no technology” Charles said. “Okay fine” I said. I then went into my room and changed into a red swimsuit. I quickly threw on a dress over it and grabbed my sandals.

“What are you love birds doing” Addie said. “Going on my boat” Charles said. “Cute a little romantic trip” Addie said. “Where’s Pato” I asked. “Uhhh he should be coming soon” Addie said. “Has he been sending you all those little gifts” I said. “I think so I haven’t asked” Addie said.

“Come on love before the sun goes down” Charles said grabbing my hand. “Bye Addie see you later” I said. We then left my apartment. And of course in the elevator was Daniel. It was just silent between all of us. “Are we walking Char” I said.

“Uhh no we can take my car so afterwards we can grab lunch” Charles said. “Will you let me drive the Ferrari yet” I said. “No not yet until you become a Ferrari girl” he said I smiled. “Doubtful” I said. “Okay I get your dating” Daniel said. I looked at him. “What’s this about” I said.

“Elena it really doesn’t matter” he said leaving. “Love it’s alright let him go” Charles said. We then walked over to his car and got in. We parked by the docks and walked to his boat. “Such a pretty day” I said he smiled.

“It really is” he said helping me up onto his boat. “Why thank you such a gentleman” I said he smiled. “Alright my love you ready” he said. “Absolutely” I said. We drove out to a little spot in the water he threw the anchor down.

“Wanna get in” Charles said. “Oh my god look the cliff we used to jump off” I said. “You did this on purpose” I said. “Maybe” he said. “Alright let’s go” I said taking my dress off. We then jumped in together. “This was much needed” Charles said pulling me close to him. “Very” I said.

“You in red it suits you” Charles said. “You still won’t convince me to join Ferrari” I said. “No” he said kissing my cheek. “Never” I said. “What will you do your contract is up next year” Charles said. “I will figure everything out then” I said. “And I’ll help” Charles said.

“You saying you see us together in a year” I said. “I see us together for years to come” Charles said. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend” I said. “Yeah I guess so” Charles said. “I’d love to be your girlfriend” I said he kissed me.

Later…

We went back to my apartment. I then noticed Lando was waiting outside the door.

“Hey what are you up too” I said. “Uhhh I wanted to talk to Addie but I realized nobody was home” Lando said. “She should be back tonight” I said. “Ahhh it’s alright” Lando said. “You alright mate” Charles said.

“It’s nothing to worry about really I’ll let you two enjoy your evening” Lando said walking away from us. “I’ll have to call him later” Charles said as I opened my apartment door. “Yeah I mean that’s weird” I said. “He does have a huge crush on Addie” Charles said shutting my door.

“Yeah I know” I said. “Maybe this whole Pato thing bothers him” Charles said. “That’s what I was thinking” I said. “You alright love you seem sad” he said wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Just think Daniel situation it’s bothering me” I said. “Can I ask you something” Charles said.

“Go ahead” I said. “Do you still love him” Charles asked. “I’ll always love him but no not like that anymore” I said. “I just know how it feels to walk away from your first love” Charles said. “Yeah.. but I do know everything happens for a reason” I said.

“Want me to talk to him” Charles said. “No I think that I should” I said. “Alright love” Charles said. “Let me go change first” I said.

After I changed I went over to Daniels apartment. I knocked on the door. Waiting for him him to open the door.

“What” Daniel said opening the door. “Can we please talk about everything” I said. “There’s nothing to talk about Elena” Daniel said. “Dan please you owe me it” I said. “I owe you it do you really wanna know why I broke up with you” Daniel said.

“Yes” I said. “It’s because of Charles you’ve always loved him” Daniel said. “You know that’s not true I loved you too” I said. “Elena you always wanted him just admit that” Daniel said. “You act like we had nothing Daniel” I said. “Maybe it was nothing Elena” Daniel said I teared up.

“Can you really say that you felt nothing for me” I said looking at him. “That we were nothing Daniel” I said. “I felt everything for you but it’s hard to want a future with someone, who wants another person” Daniel said. “What do you mean future” I asked.

“I wanted to marry you Elena” Daniel said. “What” I said. “But something told me you’d never commit to me” Daniel said. “Daniel I’m sorry” I said. “Your brother was right ever since you met Charles you’ve only had eyes for him” Daniel said.

“Danny” I said. “Don’t just go Elena go be with him I can’t do this right now” he said shutting the door in my face. I then went back into my apartment. “Did you hear everything” I said looking at Charles. “Yeah… I’m” he said hugging me.

“I just… feel stupid” I said. “Don’t worry about him Elena he’ll be fine” Charles said. “Will he though” I said. “Yes Elena now how about a massage or something” he whispered in my ear. “That sounds nice Charles” I said.

“Oh I was thinking you give me one” he said I smacked his arm. “I’m kidding my love come on” Charles said. “You are so lucky” I said.

[f0point5]

I really love thinking about the nicknames that drivers are given.

For the Ferraris there’s il predestinato/maranello’s sun and smooth operator/chili.

Like one has the weight of a nation on his shoulders, predestined to be glorious and bring back the championship to Maranello. He is the golden boy who’s grown in front of their eyes.

The other sang a song during a race and he’s spicy???

Then with the mercs you have billion dollar man and Mr. Saturday.

Lewis Hamilton is just that guy, he’s known by all and all that. He’s got the records/wins/championships/investments/money. And George does really good on Saturdays.

With hulkenberg it’s just hulk because it’s in his name.

The Red Bulls you have super max and the Mexican minister of defense. Which are both great nicknames to have, but then you look at Checo’s 2023 season and you have to question it. Max also had mad max for his ability to terrorize all the older drivers with moves they thought were insane.

Daniel’s got the honey badger and he’s made it his. He looks all nice and non threatening with all his smiles and jokes, but give him a good car this man will make your life miserable. (Nico Rosberg talking about how when he was with Merc and they were pitting none of them wanted to come out near Daniel because he’d either overtake you or not let you overtake him)

It’s so funny to compare the nicknames between teammates. Because one is usually something legendary and the other has a silly little fun nickname.

Personally I think Mr. Saturday should be revoked. He is Mr. Friday lately he doesn’t turn up on the weekends. Also, it’s a very smug sounding nickname which I guess suits George but it just annoys me. Also this is SO random but Mr. Saturday reminds me of “Mr. Exclusive” from Bruce Almighty for no reason.

The discrepancy between the Ferrari nicknames is staggeringggggg and I think it says it all really 😂 Il Predestinato sounds like something out of a book co-authored by Umberto Eco and Tolkien and Carlos’s friends drunkenly called him Charlie then Chilli and now it’s a thing…dead

I’ve got attached to the honey badger thing because Daniel wears it with such flair but ngl I hate it logically.

Checo…parliament is voting on a new minister after Brazil that’s all I’ll say on dat.

Mad Max was a very sexy nickname but I feel like it was kind of mean considering how many people still hold that aggression against him. Super Max for me always reminds me of that scene in DTS season 2 where Max wins at red bull ring with the Honda guy there and he’s crying when Max wins standing with Christian and he goes “super max” is a Japanese accent. It’s just the cutest thing! I sort of feel like Max deserves a more epic nickname but at the same time it’s sort of poetic that he has pretty standard ones despite all he’s achieved, because even if he’s the best there ever was he’s still so normal. Idk there’s synergy there.

[littlebitsmile]

in flames [C.L.] | Chapter VI

Welcome back to another week's madness. Things are finally a bit more confrontational between Emma and Charles - but don't worry, this is only the start.

Enjoy the off-race-weekend and have a wonderful week, see you next Sunday xx

story: in flames driver: Charles Leclerc [C.L.] trope: #haterstolovers summary: Always working three times as hard as everyone else, Emma does not intend to blow her chance of driving among the best of the best in her very first season in Formula 1. Concentrating on first and foremost getting ahead of her brother, she does not even notice that there are some people even in her own team who think she does not deserve this spot and would rather see her fail. And one driver in particular seems to have a need of always reminding her of that.

────ʚ C H A P T E R VI ɞ────

"And it's lights out this weekend in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia!" I hear the presenter's voice from the TVs on the wall. I'm so angry that I storm through the pit lane into my driver's room without saying a word and slam the door behind me, paying little attention to "Bad luck, no worries, Emma!" from one of the mechanics in the garage.

After yesterday's qualifying, I had the opportunity to start from 5th place today. Everything felt the same as always - the lights went out and I put all my strength into the gas pedal. With my back against the seat, the wind against my visor and a smile on my lips, it was a dream start, the likes of which I have rarely achieved in Formula 2.

The feeling for the car came naturally and without much thought, I took off into the first corner, leaving Oscar Piastri and Sergio Perez behind me. For a brief moment, a warm feeling spread through my chest, after I had felt almost nothing but doubt from all sides in recent weeks. I accelerated perfectly out of the corner and was even able to briefly catch the outside of Charles Leclerc's red Ferrari at the braking point of the next corner. Maybe I wanted too much at that moment - to get one over on him after the conversation at Max's New Year's Eve party, to get back at him. But the feeling when I felt the brief contact on the front left tire and shortly afterward spun into the gravel and then slowed down and slid into the barrier is something I won't forget for a while.

"Are you okay, Emma?" Sarah asked over the team radio. I can't remember what I answered.

Now I'm sitting here with my helmet lying in the corner, my rider's suit still fully on and wrinkles of anger on my forehead. My eyes are still fixed on the screen. I watch as Charles confidently masters lap after lap and only drops one place.

"Frustrating, isn't it?" comes a voice out of nowhere. I look toward the door and see Carlos Sainz, dressed in a red polo shirt, limping towards me. I immediately get up, meet him, and move under his shoulder to support him. He laughs and moves with me toward the sofa, where he drops down and looks at me expectantly.

"Hm?" I say as my head bounces back and forth between him and the screen.

"Frustrating when you actually have everything within reach and then lose it all again - within a millisecond."

I look at him and for the first time, I notice how tired he is. I've known Carlos since he drove with Max at Toro Rosso in 2014, and some days I've actually wished he could put Max in his place. That hasn't always worked out well, but you have to have all the more respect for him when you see how hard he trains for his results. The biggest compliment is probably that my brother hasn't said a single bad word about Carlos and tends to speak positively about the still-Ferrari driver - especially in public.

My anger fades a little. When I think about what I want to say and how it might come across to him, only one word comes to mind to describe me: Crazy. I was on the outside and should have given Charles more space, wanted more than I could handle at that moment and ended up at the end of the gravel trap through no fault of my own.

"I know how it is in racing - everyone is their own best friend, but..."

"I didn't ask how you would rationally assess the situation, I asked if you were frustrated."

"Of course, I am! Of course, I'm frustrated," I admit and throw my arms in the air. My legs start to move up and down the room of their own accord. "I'm trying to put on a good performance and... I'm not saying that Charles is to blame for my elimination, but I imagine there was enough space to the left of him and he..."

"...kicked you out on purpose?" Carlos finishes my sentence. I look at him and consider whether I should nod. A short pause fills the room, leaving only the sound of engines from the race broadcast echoing from the TV. "You're frustrated, but you need to turn it off."

"That's so easy to say - but who am I telling?"

"Sometimes things happen that we can't help. And sometimes things happen that we should and do blame ourselves for, but blaming someone else for something helps us exactly zero."

"Since when are you so wise? Did they accidentally cut something during your appendectomy that's responsible for your impulsiveness?"

Carlos laughs, loudly, before letting out a short "ooh" of pain and reflexively pressing his hand against the side of his stomach. "Believe me, I'm certainly one of the people who knows the most about frustration. Whether Charles was responsible for the situation out there or not, if you blame him, you'll always stay distracted. Get over it and focus on yourself again."

"Is that what you're doing? Any news about 2025 yet?"

"No, and even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you."

"That frustrates me too, by the way - you're the only one who can hold a candle to Max, I know that better than anyone. And yet Mr. I-have-seven-world-championship-titles-and-wine-my-eighth-behind-and-Mr. I-belong-at-Ferrari-because-it-is-my-dream are more likely to get a seat than you? I wouldn't begrudge them if you can drive next to Max next year and you both win every race with a double Red Bull lead. My favorite thing would be if you were world champion and Max was only runner-up."

"I appreciate your words, but I don't think that's going to happen. Charles is a good driver and person, you've just caught him on the wrong foot the last few times - and your...differences with Lewis are just a result of you being biased. I promise. That will all go away after this year."

"You're too good for this world, Carlos. But the fact that I still have a bone to pick with that one..." I point my thumb towards the TV, "...not even you can prevent that."

I sit down next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. There was once a time when I dreamt of a moment like this, while I cut out photos of Carlos from magazines and stuck them together on a poster. Now he's like a big brother - the only person who knows Max better than me and can probably understand why I sometimes want to wring his neck.

A message appears on the TV informing us that the race incident has been analyzed by race control and that Charles will not be fined.

"Somehow I'm a little scared for him - he doesn't know you yet when you're really fired up."

"He'll learn about me soon enough, Carlos. Just wait."

-

"What do you think you're doing? Do you enjoy pushing other drivers? You could have left a bit more space!" I shout and charge towards Charles, who is throwing himself into the Ferrari crowd next to me to celebrate his third place. I stand behind the barrier, gathering all my strength and using every ounce of my lung capacity to ensure he can’t overhear me.

Charles turns in my direction, takes two steps towards me and smiles smugly at me: "I'm going to tell you something I wouldn't tell everyone: Fuck off. You're too aggressive in your driving, you think you can get away with anything. You may still be new, but there's no puppy protection here, you can remember that right away. If you want to drive like a pro, you'll have to live with the consequences, we all had to learn that." In the next moment he attempts to turn away and head to his first interview. Standing on the lowest metal bar of the barrier, I lean forward, grab him by the collar of his suit and pull him back towards me. I slide back down to the ground and have to turn my head upwards due to the difference in height.

"You could have spared two centimeters of space without sacrificing your podium place, you conceited snob. Do you think just because it says Ferrari on your back, you're the next Michael Schuhmacher?" My eyes are glowing. A few people turn in our direction and stop talking to each other so they can hear why there's noise here that has nothing to do with the celebrations.

"Do you think because you have Verstappen in your surname we'll all make way for you and give you a win? Oh, wait, you wouldn't win anyway because you've always been number two, right?" Charles steps up to the barrier and is only a few centimeters away from my face. He's taller than me, at least when I'm standing on the ground. I step back onto the first metal bar of the barrier, offering him at least minimal resistance. I swallow. Tears sting my eyes because the statement was more hurtful than I'd like to admit.

"Are you going to start crying now? Woman, we all have our own expectations about this sport and more so of ourselves and therefore, pressure. Everyone has been knocked out before because they drove too aggressively, and the risk therefore being too high. Max might be able to help you out here, but certainly not on the track. Learn to live with it and you might survive longer than a season." His words are quieter now. He looks frantically left and right, probably not wanting to be in the papers tomorrow. I briefly imagine the headlines, then shake my head and meet his gaze.

I take another breath, stand up straight and then look him deep in the eye before speaking with firm conviction: "I hope you remember exactly what I'm about to say, because I'm not going to repeat it again: as long as I'm part of this grid, you have to respect me as much as anyone else, whether you like it or not. And I swear to God, if you pull a stunt like that agin, Max will be the least of your worries." Then I stand back on the ground and take two steps back. Where I was just standing, the room immediately fills up with Red Bull mechanics, but Charles doesn't miss the opportunity to respond again.

"Wow, I’m shaking in my boots. Please, don't strain yourself, let it all out. But in the end, you'll still just be one thing: somebody who barks but doesn't bite." With that, he turns around and leaves me to the crowd of people standing outside cheering for the winners.

-

"I find myself back in Netflix's Drive to Survive recording room with the same interviewer who sat across from me last time. My flight leaves for Australia on Monday, two days from now, but thanks to the viral videos of Charles' and my argument, they naturally want my direct, unfiltered truth before my PR team strategizes and answers me accordingly.

"Emma! What happened out there? For a short time, it looked like you could make up two places on the first lap. Then there was an incident with Charles Leclerc on the second corner..." the interviewer begins. The additional lights blind me, just like the first time. I don't feel any less uncomfortable and I'm beginning to regret the direct confrontation. I want to race fast cars and compete in races, but I have no interest in adding more drama to a show that's as scripted and shallow as 'The Bachelor'.

"No comment on the incident. Race control looked at the incident and decided not to impose a penalty, I have to accept that," I say calmly. I almost congratulate myself for keeping my composure. Take that!

"Do you expect an apology from Charles Leclerc or Ferrari? After all, they ruined your race." The provocative line is not new to me. I can't even blame him, after all, they're just trying to make their series as exciting as possible. The stereotype is that women are emotional, but the truth is, everyone enjoys drama, regardless of gender.

"It always takes two to make an incident like this happen. I'm analyzing the raw data with my team and will adjust my behavior accordingly - a result like this is disappointing for Aston Martin and most of all for me. But we'll regroup and give our best shot in the next race." I am convinced of my words. I am fully aware that there was a collective murmur around the Aston Martin pit lane at the moment of retirement, along with a few comments that probably sounded a lot like "typical" and "natural". Nevertheless, we must all look forward and give ourselves a chance.

"After tenth place last week in Bahrain and a DNF here in Jeddah, what are the learnings for the next two weeks in preparation for Australia?"

I let a few seconds pass before answering. The first lesson is that I need to react faster to avoid situations like the one with Charles. "I plan to depart earlier than Fernando, giving me more time to acclimate and train."

At this moment, I notice a movement in the background. Everyone turns around before the interviewer thanks me for my statement, shakes my hand and can hardly wait to shoo me out of my chair. In passing, I notice that the crew greet Charles, who has apparently also been invited to make a short statement. All the attention is now on him, which I'm honestly glad about. I am allowed to exhale deeply without anyone noticing how tense I actually was. I stand up, put on my cap and march straight towards Charles. He looks at me wide-eyed as I hug him and wish him a good interview before I sneak out the door, giggling a little at the thought of the questions he's about to be asked. Sometimes revenge comes in a different form than you first expect."

────ʚ [Masterlist] [Chapter V] [Chapter VII (in progress)] ɞ────

Tags: @cmleitora @alliwantisadonut

[effervescentdragon]

Kiss to shut them up, sebchal pls

i love you so much ❤️

7) ... to shut them up.

"I thought you'd come back for Ferrari," Charles says, because he has to say something, and it's still less stupid than I thought you'd come back for me.

Sebastian doesn't flinch. Charles misses the days when he could get under Seb's skin easily, without even trying. It takes effort nowadays, but Charles knows all the things that are worth something take effort.

"Ferrari didn't want me," he says, and his smile isn't as sharp as Charles expects it to be. "They never even asked."

Charles knows this to be a lie. Lolo told him about the meeting Fred had with Sebastian, and what they offered him if he came back. Charles didn't know how Lolo knew of it, but he wasn't surprised. Lolo knew everything, including how important it was for Charles to know this before he saw Sebastian again, clad in dark blue at Red Bull's hospitality. He remembers how good Seb looked in their racing suits. He looks even better in the personell clothes. Then again, Seb always looks good to Charles.

Seb's left pinky finger twitched when he spoke. There is no ring on his left hand, only the black one on his right thumb. Charles ducks his head.

"Our loss," he says, biting his lip. He wants to add As usual, but that isn't quite true anymore. Nothing in this conversation is quite true, and that's not something Charles is comfortable with, the grey areas of uncertainty. Seb, in comparison, flourishes in grey spaces, and always did.

Seb inclines his head in acquiescence. The elevator stops on Charles' floor. Seb follows him out, and Charles doesn't react as they cross the empty floor to where Charles' room is. He unlocks the door and his hands don't shake as he turns the lights on.

Seb's eyes look even bluer against the dark blue shirt. "I know you can't drink, not with the race so close, but I hope Andrea still hides his special brew in your -"

Seb's voice cuts off as Charles steps into his space and pushes him into the door behind and lowers his lips to Seb's.

Seb kisses like he always does, like he always did. His hand in Charles' hair is steady in a way Charles can feel his puls isn't.

We were always only able to be truthful when naked, Charles thinks, and lets Seb bite at his lips, and swallows all of Seb's moans.

[masonmyluv]

Home race - CL16 🙈

Charles Leclerc x reader

Childhood friends reunited

Warnings: mention of an inchident, some curse words

A/N: this is my first story about Charles Leclerc so pls don’t judge 😅😊

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your childhood best friend, actual F1 driver, was back in Monaco. How could you forget? You thought about it since this season started. What if you're going to bump into him on the streets? It's been 5 years since you stopped talking and never got in touch with each other.

While Charles was busy signing for fans, Arthur's eyes wondered further from the crowd and spotted you. "Isn't that Y/N?" He whispered to Charles. "Who?" His brother replied. "Never mind. I'll be over there at the cafe" Arthur said, making his way over to you.

You pretended you were intensely studying the menu (even though you already ordered) when he approached you. "Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" You looked up in a beat, a bit disappointed it wasn't Charles, but his brother. Damn, their voices were so alike. "Yep. That's me" you replied smiling. "I haven't seen you in a loooong time" he said, sitting in the opposite chair. "Same to you. How you've been?" You asked. "Pretty good, got into F2, things are going well. Charles over there is in F1, so he does better than me" he rolled his eyes playfully. "He's not really doing well with all the crashes" you mumbled. "So you're watching? Are you a fan?" He smirked. "Well... only when I'm bored" you said. "Anyways, what about you?" He asked. "You're always changing the subject when you don't like something" you chuckled. "I'm good, I'm studying Architecture here, I still have 3 more years to go". "And do you have someone?" He asked.

Just when you were about to reply, Charles appeared by his brother's side. "Are you trying to hook up? Really?" He said to Arthur. "Bro, it's Y/N. Your best friend remember?" Arthur said, Knocking into Charles's head. Charles looked over to you, still not making out who you were. You were a bit disappointed because he didn't remember you, but you remembered everything about him and still had that stupid crush on your best friend. Or ex best friend.

"You should invite her to the race tomorrow" Arthur suggested. "Even though she watches F1 when bored".

"OOOOH!!! It's Y/N/N" Charles said. "You and your stupid nickname. Yes, it's her" Arthur rolled his eyes. Charles couldn't contain his excitement, so he hugged you. "I missed you" he whispered. "I missed you too". "So you're coming to the race then?" He asked. "Sounds good" you smiled.

-- 5 hours before the race --

"I told you not to freak out" Arthur said, hugging you. "I till feel weird to be here. I basically know nothing" you said. "Don't worry, I'll explain everything you need to know. By the way, Charles's sending you a gift" he said. "Really? After I spent 2 hours to pick my outfit, you give me a t-shirt?". "It's designed by Charles for the race. Come on, you'll look good" he said.

"So did you understand how things are around here?" Arthur asked. "Let's hope for the best" you laughed awkwardly. Man, this sport was something else. "And now Ferrari motor home. And probably Charles is dressing up in here" Arthur said, making his way through the mechanics who we're finishing the last checks on the car. Indeed, Charles was putting on his special Monaco suit and he looked damn hot in it. Fuck, go away stupid crush.

"Y/N, you came. And you're looking good" Charles said, hugging you. "Of course. Wouldn't want to miss my best friend racing right?" You chuckled. "Oops forgot something. Be right back" Arthur said, leaving the two of you alone. "So..." Charles said. "Are you scared? I mean, I would be, driving 200 on these streets. Or are you feeling pressured because it's a home race? I would, I'm always feeling under pressure and I can't work properly" you ranted. "I do feel scared and excited, and under pressure, but I'm enjoying it to the maximum" he replied. He always liked when you asked his questions and were honest with him. "So... who's your biggest rival?" You asked. "Myself". "I would say Verstappen cuz I do like him... and probably Hamilton. He's ok" you said.

"And who's this beautiful lady we have here?"

"Carlos, she's Y/N, my...best friend" Charles said. "Hi. Nice to meet you" you said. "Carlos is my teammate who I don't know what is doing here" Charles narrowed his eyes at him. "Just wanted to wish you luck. But I guess you already have" he grinned.

"I have to get in the car. Make sure your headset is working properly and enjoy watching" Charles said. "Thanks. Wait Charles" you said, before he could put on his helmet. "Yeah?". You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Win for me, will ya?" You winked, making him blush.

"Watching the two of you is funny. You clearly have feelings for each other" Arthur said. "And where have you been, mister?". "Just letting you have some time with him. And I guess he's going to invite you to the party as well" he said, helping you put on the headset so you could hear Charles's radio. "What party?" You asked. "After the race, there's a party to celebrate. If he wins, he'll want you by your side. If he loses, he still wants you by his side" he shrugged. "Is it starting?" You asked. "Yeah. Pray for him".

"Omg is he okay??" You asked, seeing the collision between him and Carlos. "Yeah it's just the front wing. He should be able to continue the race" Arthur explained.

"Fucking hell why would he do that??? Putain!!! That idiot!!!"

You winced at his words, never seeing Charles so angry before. Sure his own teammate would sabotage him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N"

"He's a twat" Arthur sighed. "He still had time no?" You asked. "Maybe, but I guess he already gave up". "Can I told to him?" You asked and Arthur nodded.

"Charles, it's Y/N speaking. Please don't give up, you've worked so hard for this and it's a shame to give up now. This is your empire, Charles, show them who's the king. I know you won't give up that easily. Or so I thought that I know my best friend. I love you, Charles. Make everyone proud"

"You confessed over the radio? You're crazy" Arthur chuckled. "He needs to know. I can't hide it anymore" you shrugged. "Welcome to the family. Officially as Charles's girlfriend" he said, hugging you. "He didn't ask me yet" you laughed. "He will, trust me. Probably the first thing he'll do when he gets out of the car".

And it's first place for Charles Leclerc in Monaco. What a race! The Monaco curse is broken!

And Arthur was indeed right. After congratulating the other drivers on the podium, he ran to where you were and hugged you tightly. "Be my girlfriend? Please". "Hmm I don't know..." you faked thinking about it. "We haven't talked for five years. I still don't know why we did that" you said. "Me neither. I guess it's my fault. I was at the beginning of the F1 career and didn't want a distraction. Sorry for that" he said. "It's okay. Let's just enjoy is being reunited" You leaned in, pressing your lips to his. "God, I can't believe I did that" you chuckled. Charles smirked before pulling you into another kiss. "Get a room. Wait first go to celebrate and then get a room" Arthur said, hugging the both of you. "Or we could celebrate in a room" Charles shrugged. "Gross. Now go, the trophy's waiting" Arthur said.

After the celebration, Charles came back into the garage, smelling like champagne, but you didn't care. And after that, you went to the party and as Arthur said everything you did was 18+🤪.

Hope you like it ❤️🤍

Praying to all odds for Charles to win today 🥹

[milflewis]

or can you make sewis toxic

the gc said what if seb n lewis were teammates at merc during baku 2017 earlier today and my brain is fucking melted and this came out. what if lewis went to ferrari after 2016. what if baku happened while they’re were both in the title fight for a wdc with ferrari and make it be the worst possible scenario. what then

“I’m not very nice today,” Sebastian laughs, titling back in his chair, smile bright and toothy, red shirt loose and too big along his shoulders. His fingers are ringless, tapping away on the arm of his chair, no bracelets either excerpt for a thin material one, faded blue, and a thick sensible watch. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry but then again, Sebastian never does. Lewis only shrugs, letting his eyes soften, reaching over to bump Sebastian’s chest with his closed fist, light and easy. Mattia is peering over the file in his hand from across the room. “It’s alright, man. Losing can be difficult to swallow.”

Sebastian is far too good at his job to glare at Lewis. His smile simply widens, chin tilting down so he can glance up through his lashes. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Lewis laughs, stretching his legs out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, until his back clicks quietly. “I would,” Lewis says and the helmet painted in Lewis’s colours on the shelf behind Mattia holds the exact same number of stars, one grey, two silver, one red, as Sebastian has titles. You’re not special, Lewis thinks. Not to me. I see you. I know you as a racer. As a human being. I. See. You.

I’m not Mark Webber, Lewis had said to him, last year after they had handed him the trophey and he’d become the first Ferrari world champion since Kimi. Sebastian had only laughed, furious and spitting and grinning, no?

Nah, Lewis had leaned in close, smelling his sweat and champagne and the race track that always seems to cling to Sebastian. I’ve beat you in your own team, haven’t I?

That hadn’t wiped the smile off of Sebastian’s face, nothing had that year, not once he started losing and never stopped, but something in his eyes had flickered, got you, and he had said, they aren’t my team, like it was awful and terrible and the worst thing he could think of. He didn’t say they’re yours because apart from the very few times Sebastian very distinctly is, he generally isn’t much of a liar.

Lewis had known him a long time at this point, as a friend and stranger and colleague and rival and teammate and ally and rival, and had just shrugged. Yeah, they are, man. They’re Ferrari, they’ll never be mine. And they’ve got to be someone’s — too needy not to be.

Then why are you here. It was the first time since Lewis signed the contract on the heels of 2016 that he saw Sebastian desperate and it was even partly real. Maybe I just want to win with every team, Lewis had watched Sebastian’s fingers pull at the sleeves of his race suit, the material damp and thick. That’s what the papers are saying, anyway, so it must be true.

Sebastian hadn’t said anything to that, jaw still set and tight, knuckles white where he had twisted them into the material. Lewis could’ve forgiven him for choosing Nico over him, or at least, not choosing Lewis. Could’ve and did. He was even able to forgive him for not saying anything when the shit stupid jokes came back after he signed and the Tifosi lost their shit, bouncing back and forth between ecstasy over getting Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari, stealing him from Mercedes as if Lewis hadn’t walked away on his own two feet, and the horror of having a black driver in their beloved team.

What he is not able to let go, and probably couldn’t even if he tried, is Sebastian not taking back what he said after Baku, never telling anyone that he was wrong, even after the FIA of all people stood in Lewis’s corner. It wouldn’t have hurt so much except —

Well, Lewis had thought, hadn’t he, and —

— it didn’t matter. Not in the end.

Sometimes, Lewis looks at Sebastian, beside him on the podium, across a team briefing, staring in front of him, behind, right there, and he hates him. He’s pretty sure that they could’ve, maybe, possibly, been something.

Sometimes, he even catches Sebastian staring back but for all that he swans around, all open palms and look here, look, look, I’ve got nothing to hide, I swear, he can be so very difficult to read. And it’s been a over a year since Lewis has trusted himself around the other man.