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#scuderia ferrari
lorarri · 1 day
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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚🇾🇪 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ it's very well documented that you and your teammate don't get along so when you are forced to spend off season together let's say things get interesting ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ charles leclerc x fem! ferrari! f1 driver! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ this was actually super fun to do but god was finding an fc a pain so enjoy! ❩
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❨ series masterlist | main masterlist ❩
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BOSS MAN
okay so the team have decided that you and charles will spend winter break together to try and improve on your relationship
as to avoid the two of you take each other out
again
this is not up for discussion
FAV EMPLOYEE
alr great talk
better start looking for a new driver
cuz I will probably end up killing him by the end of this
yourinstagram . 10min ago
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seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 79,379,469 others
user replied to your story!
omg enemies to lovers arc has begun
user replied to your story!
the way I just know this is about charles
user replied to your story!
forced proximty yummy
landonorris replied to your story!
try to bring him back in one piece
no promisses
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DICKHEAD
if it makes you feel any better I'm not happy about this either
MISS ANGER ISSUES
and somehow even with that information
it still fails to make me feel better
DICKHEAD
so we are staying in monaco right?
MISS ANGER ISSUES
umm no?
why would I wanna stay in white man country
DICKHEAD
cuz we have to spend time together???
MISS ANGER ISSUES
well I'm going back to yemen for the break so...
come or don't not my problem
DICKHEAD
isn't most of the food spicy out there
MISS ANGER ISSUES
you lack of strength when it comes to eating spice is not my problem dude
like I said come or don't
I don't care
DICKHEAD
...fine when are we catching a flight
MISS ANGER ISSUES
in 4 hours
DICKHEAD
wait that's not enough time for me to pack
DICKHEAD
welp
sucks to suck better start packin mr monaco
yourinstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc landonorris 78,379,480 others
yourinstagram yemen is where my heart is
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user she def took this after she killed charles
user lando def checking in to see if charles is dead or nah
user my queen has returned home
user she def tried to kill mr monaco with spicy food
user that coffee is most likey made with charles tears
user okay no more talking about charles can we talk about how good-looking Y/N is
user charles in the likes fred must have forced him to put on the friendly act
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yourinstagram and charles_leclerc . 3hrs ago
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seen by landonorris lewishamilton 76,380,429 others
user replied to yourinstagram story!
we see you with the matching stories miss thing
landonorris replied to yourinstagram story!
took you guys long enough to fall in love
ikr
user replied to charles_leclerc story!
that flower and that hand look mighty familiar sir
user replied to charles_leclerc story!
glad you and mother finally decided to get together
charles_leclerc
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liked by totowolff landonorris 78,480,482 others
charles_leclerc she hated me now she loves me :)
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TOTO
you owe me 1 million euro's fred
FRED
stfu toto
why can't you be wrong for once in your life
TOTO
cuz I'm the best
FRED
if that were true I shouldn't have been able to take lewis so easily
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─ requested by . . .
@cialovesklopp ─ heyy, so as request for Yemen i wanted to ask for a Yemeni! Driver for Mercedes x Lewis (or ferrari x Charles) where they maybe can’t stand each other at the beginning but then they’re forced to spend off season together to get along and they visit readers home country and then it’s just soft launching and everyone’s surprised because they all remember how they couldn’t stand each other (and there’s Toto who bet on them with the other team principals and he wins like lots of money because he was sure they would fall in love after that trip) 🫶🏾🫶
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leclercskiesahead · 24 hours
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Together
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pucksandpower · 2 days
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I’m sorry but Formula 1 media drives me insane!
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If Max didn’t DNF in Australia, he would be leading the World Championship. If Charles had functioning brakes in Bahrain, he would be leading the World Championship.
See how these hypotheticals work?
The narratives surrounded the Australian Grand Prix are slowly making me lose my mind. Did Carlos have a commendable drive? Yes. Was his win due to luck more than anything (simply because no one is getting ahead of Max if he doesn’t have mechanical issues)? Yes!
Carlos won because, for the first time in nearly two seasons, Max had a DNF. It’s really that simple.
The difference in how media treats Carlos versus Charles simply does not make any sense to me. A lucky P1 for Carlos and fans and pundits alike are saying that he is better than Charles and that Ferrari is keeping the wrong driver.
I can’t deal with it anymore!
How are these same people content to pretend that Charles didn’t have major brake issues in Bahrain that rendered his car all but undriveable? That him being able to finish P4 was a miracle in itself. How do seven straight front row starts get ignored or dismissed as unimportant because Charles didn’t manage to convert them to wins … when the Australian Grand Prix clearly showed the importance of starting the position?
The only difference, as luck would have it, the one race that Max has mechanical issues is also the one race that Charles had issues with the car in qualifying and had to start on the second row instead.
Sometimes I wish that Charles had a national media to defend him and have his back like all the other drivers do because the double standards that he constantly has to deal with are making me lose my mind.
It truly feels like some of these people don’t bother to actually watch races or take context into consideration and just go purely off of the standings.
Charles Leclerc deserves better.
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xshyhana · 3 days
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Carlando❤️🧡
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justc2world · 2 days
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I'm about to cry at work. I can't see him like this.
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dzala-va · 19 hours
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medieval AU with Formula 1 drivers ❤️‍🔥
Max and Charles
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sunny-sainz · 2 days
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twin…where have you been…
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misschino · 2 days
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Lets pray for joris and andrea during these difficult times
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sparks | carlos sainz
Description: Carlos Sainz used to be your babysitter, now that you were older - you meet him in the paddocks, and an affair ensues.
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It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment of carelessness. If you had believed it, you no longer did.
You used to belong in the upper echelon. Dinner parties, soirees, expensive bags and yacht parties. There wasn't a thing in this world that you couldn't afford - well, that was the past, and ever since your father's death, the family has been a little tight on money.
"Can you handle writing the reports for this new car? The dudes want to grab a few drinks, and you didn't wanna come with." your co-worker leans on the wall beside your desk and you respond with a hum. "I have all the time in the world." you answer, typing a few emails before turning your head in his direction.
"- what time do you need those reports done?" you inquired and he stared at the ceiling. "Preferably before 10, but it'll be okay if you send them tomorrow." he answered, walking away as he sees the other guys in his peripheral view.
As one of the interns in Ferrari - you were in the bottom of the food chain. Unpaid overtimes, too much workload and too little rest was basically normal for you.
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"Santisima trinidad!" you exclaimed seeing another man inside of the garage when you opened the lights. "Carlos, I didn't see you there." you scratched the back of your head, keeping your eyes on the floor.
He'd never recognize you, last time he saw you - you were five years old and that was sixteen years ago. "I'm sorry for scaring you." he chuckled, while taking a sip of his beer. "I was just checking the car," he reasoned, placing his phone on his back pocket.
"In the dark?" you asked.
"I couldn't find the light switch." he blushed. Deciding that it was probably a conversation that he wasn't comfortable with, you take a step forward, holding the clipboard close to your chest. He stares at your face for a moment, eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips.
"You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" he stared deeper into your eyes. A chill runs down your spine. There was no way that you'd let him recognize you - it would be awkward. A gigantic elephant in the middle of the room.
"I'm Ferrari's new intern. I think we already met each other back in Spa." you navigated yourself out of the ridiculous predicament. He licks his lips, and suddenly the atmosphere thickens. "Well, you look good." he gives you a micro-smile, walking away from the garage.
As his shadow retreats from view, you let out a breath that you weren't aware that you were holding.
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yourname: my biggest hobby 🚗
liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others
>comments
maneater69: UR SO MOMMY AND DADDY CODED liked by yourname
carlossainz55: ❤️
maneater69: HOLDUP @yourname ANSWER UR DMS RN - yourname: SIS IDK WHAT'S GOING ON...
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"Lemme guess, he used his favorite line: you look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Paige, your co-worker, teased.
Carlos Sainz was renowned around the paddocks for being a womanizer. There wasn't a single pretty lady that he hasn't spoken to, and apparently he had a modus operandi - one that now involved you. "I mean it's weird because he actually does know me." you shrugged, wiping the car grease from your overalls.
"You used to go to the same school? You're from the same town?" Paige inquired, piqued by the sudden turn of events. "He used to be my babysitter." you groaned, regrettably exposing your secret.
A gasp escapes her mouth.
"That's some hot shit." she chuckled.
"You read too much romance novels." you tried to hide your interest. "- a man whose obviously much older than you, begins to fall in love." Paige antagonized even further, earning a sigh.
Her eyes light up, like headlights.
"Wait, now you have to be my plus one in that event that I'm going to. Carlos is going to be there!" she exclaimed, hatching a devious plan. "But he's a womanizer? Why would you want me to go for him?" your eyes narrowed, annoyed that you were even involved with him in a conversation involving love.
"He'll change for you - and if he doesn't, at least you experienced the feeling of having him love you." Paige mused.
"Sounds chauvinistic." you shrug and she rolls her eyes. "Take one good look at his face, cuz' if you're asking me. I'd rather find ruin in his hands than with some other cheap fuck." she tried to convince you, but you already wanted Carlos Sainz Jr. the moment you talked to him inside of that dark garage.
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yourname: ferrari knows how to partay
liked by carlossainz55 and 723 others
>comments
paigenewhart: um ma'am who gave u the permit to serve? liked by yourname - yourname: i'd like to see ur permit too?
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After the main event, you were quickly whisked off to one of the after-parties. The club was pumping, the music was about to make your ears explode, but suddenly someone's hands were on the small of your back. You turn your head, and you meet his brown ones.
Carlos Sainz Jr. the man that you were here for.
His hands were tenderly placed on your body, nothing sexual - just sensual. It felt normal for his hand to be there. It was nothing different from a husband holding his wife, it was natural for him to be touching you, there were no electric sparks or anything.
"Intern from Ferrari?" he smiled and you smiled in return.
He remembered!
"I don't think that we properly introduced each other. I'm Carlos." he presented his free hand for you to shake. "(Your Name)," you smiled, hoping that he wouldn't remember.
"Oh, that is why you were familiar!" he giggled, a wave of resonance flashing through his features. "I used to babysit you, right? I didn't even recognize you - you've changed." his eyes lingered back and forth. Men like him were easy, there was hidden desire behind those innocent brown eyes.
"- and you haven't changed at all." your teeth burrowed into your cheeks. "You make me feel old, there's only what...seven years between us?" he inquired, doing all the mental math.
"Yep, I was six and you were thirteen." you chuckled nervously, suddenly all the bass seem to tune out of your ears - and the only thing that you could pay attention to was Carlos.
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His lips were on yours, the taste of champagne echoing through your enclosed mouth. His hands roamed around your body, a man searching for water in the middle of a desert.
"Why don't we take this to my room?" he suggested, and you broke free from the kiss - by extension also his hug. A wave of clarity engulfed your body. Did you really want to do this?
"I'm not that kind of person. I'm sorry, this was a mistake." you bolted out of your seat, retreating into the sea of people in front of you.
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(UNKNOWN NUMBER) Not that kind of person What does that mean?
(YOU) not the kind to do 1 night stands m sorry
(Sainz Jr.) I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I never thought of you as just a one night thing. (YOU) nono it's ok don't lie on my account i understand (Sainz Jr.) No it's not. Let me make it up for you. .
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yourname: spontaneous trip to paris 🇫🇷
liked by carlossainz55 and 812 others
>comments
carlossainz55: Five minutes before disaster - yourname: not my fault 🤷🏻‍♀️
carlandounite: UMM? CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GF?
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carlossainzjrupdates: Carlos Sainz's new gf? @yourname who is apparently a family friend. This is a pic of her with Ana Sainz, Carlos' sister.
liked by 8,483 others
>comments have been restricted
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saintescuderia · 3 days
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pancakes (pt. 2)
apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.
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AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.
series masterlist here :)
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P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches
“Y/N Tessio?”
“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 
Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 
This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 
Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.
Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 
“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.
And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 
He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.
Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.
“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 
“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 
"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.
"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.
Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.
In Europe.
But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.
It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 
“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 
-
“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”
“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 
But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 
“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 
So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 
Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 
You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 
Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.
“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 
Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 
You didn’t react. 
You didn’t have to. 
All you did was keep watching the birds. 
Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.
“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 
“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 
You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 
“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 
“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”
You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”
“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”
“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 
Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 
-
“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 
“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.
Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.
Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan.
Japan!
“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.
“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 
Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.
But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.
“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 
“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”
Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 
“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”
Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.
There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 
“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 
Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 
“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 
“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 
This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.
Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  
“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”
Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 
Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 
“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 
Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 
There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 
-
taglist:
@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery
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nurse-sainz · 2 days
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Carlos Motherfucking Sainz
This man. I cannot. Also, these men also keep putting my love of nursing and my love of F1 together so let's get into it! How did Carlos Sainz manage to win 2 weeks after having an appendectomy?
In the UK, at least, you can leave the hospital the same day you've have an appendectomy as long as there are no complications as long is it was done laparoscopically and there were no complications (burst appendix etc)
Carlos had his appendix removed laparoscopically (which I predicted considering how quickly he was back at the paddock to watch the Grand Prix!) you can tell by the incisions - 3 small ones for the camera and tools rather than one long incision for an open appendectomy.
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Usually after an appendectomy you can go back to work after 1-2 weeks. IF YOU HAVE A NON-PHYSICAL JOB. We know this man was back training and strengthening as soon as he could. You can usually start to work out after 2 weeks, depending on wound healing. Those sit ups would have been agony!
That alone would have had him in a lot of pain, let alone the amount of g-force the drivers encounter when they're driving around the circuits - up to 5G in some cases. That's 5x their body weight.
On his latest Instagram post you can see him in a weird glass tube - this presumably is a hyperbaric chamber. There are multiple studies investigating the effectiveness of hyperbaric oxygen therapy in the speedier healing of surgical wounds and reduction of post-operative infection.
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In short, this type of therapy can reduce inflammation and boost the formation of white blood cells (the cells that protect the body against infection and defend it from attack of unknown organisms) to improve healing and lower the risk of infection.
Overall, we know he wouldn't have been able to drive unless he was safe to and he said himself they made sure he could get out of his car in the required time and padded his wound and made adjustments to ensure his comfort but you could see the pain he was in after and Lando helping onto the podium.
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That man deserves his seat.
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bottom55cs · 2 days
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This whole weekend was made for charlos, carlando and versainz (front row). And it really showed just how great of a driver and a person Carlos is. Don't even get me started on the post race interview
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mm oh damn yeah okay
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pucksandpower · 43 minutes
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Man’s World
Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader
Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected
Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments
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You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.
Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.
You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.
This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.
You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.
“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.
You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.
You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”
The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”
You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.
“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”
You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.
“That’s enough.”
You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.
“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.
Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.
You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”
Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.
The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”
The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.
The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”
Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”
You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.
“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”
You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”
Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.
“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”
Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.
“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”
The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”
Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.
Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.
Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.
But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”
Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”
“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”
You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.
The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.
“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.
Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”
You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”
That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”
***
“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.
You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”
Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”
You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”
Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”
You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.
“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”
“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”
Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.
“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.
You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”
Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”
Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”
You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”
Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.
You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”
Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”
You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”
“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”
You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.
Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”
You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.
"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."
You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”
You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.
For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.
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aworldinsideofthem · 2 days
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It’s fine. I’m fine.
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Source
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justc2world · 2 days
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In appreciation of Pierluigi, thank you for bringing Carlos back so beautifully. This duo can achieve anything together.
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