#charles leclerc x female character | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st4rg1rl-16 · 2 months

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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽��𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ in a club max, lando and carlos make a plan to discover if the ferrari drivers are in a relationship, how? making charles jealous!

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ barcelona, spain

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ they are in a club so alcohol consumption jealous!charles, the boys being the little shits they are, fingering (wait what?!) lewis kinda flirting with bella?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I been MIA I know, sorry for that but here it is!!and things are starting to get heatedddd

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90 @wcnorris

• — need for speed’s masterlist

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻

♡ liked by 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵, 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 and 𝟴𝟲.𝟬𝟲𝟴 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 After revolutionizing not only the motorsport world but also our hearts, Arabella Torres is crowned with the title of the new "it girl" of Europe.

"I've spent this last month hating my body and I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine" The Formula One driver opens up to us showing us her most vulnerable side about hate on social media and several other topics in the interview for the 200th issue of our magazine, now available on 💥 our link💥

Text: 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗿

Interview: 𝘁𝗼𝗺_𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁_𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Photograph: 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸_𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼

Styling: 𝗺𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗼𝗱𝘂

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 have been tagged

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 🏎️🏎️🏎️

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 😍

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭 Wait, I’m running to get it

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟮 I wasn’t a big fan of her but since I saw the live I love her

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 the same happened to me

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟰 Sorry for my ignorance, but what happened? I just got into the fandom.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 Last month she was sexualized a lot on twitter because some youtubers uploaded a video and mentioned sexual things about her body, she went viral and began to have even more hate than she already had and made a live saying that she was going to leave social media for a while and then talked about how bad she felt, how it was a shame for her family and how it was “staining” her career. She basically talked about how bad it is to sexualize and also took out things like sexism and things like that (+)

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 (+) Then she left social media and we only saw her in the Shanghai and Azerbaijan gps and during these four weeks a lot of celebrities have talked about her and she has gone viral and now she is like the “it girl”.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟱 ooooh, thanks for the explanation 💖

𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗶 That’s our girl!! 😌

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 muchas gracias por darme esta oportunidad! 🤍thank you very much for giving me this opportunity!

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟲 aww she is so cute, why do people hate her?

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟳 Unfortunately there are many people throwing hate at her even though she is a great person

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 Te queremos, Arabella! 🥰 We love you!

𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 ARABELLA TOOOOOOOORRESSSSSSSSS

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 and 𝟭𝟮𝟳 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 liked this comment

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟴 my ship 🥺

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟵 What they've done to her is horrible, now she hates her body when she's beautiful

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟬 I would kill for having a body like hers

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟭 that’s how society works 🙂

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟮 she is probably going to get even more hate after this

"IT would be awesome if your first victory was in Spain" Oliver's smile was focused by the camera. His mother snapped her tongue looking at him with reprimand.

"Oli, son, don't swear on the table, please" The boy looked at his mother and gave her his most charming smile.

"Yes, mommy" The woman rolled her eyes and threw her napkin in his face so he complained while her husband laughed.

Arabella smiled watching the familiar scene unfolding in front of her. The truth was that she had missed it, after so many months away from them and seeing each other only by casual video calls, it was nice to be all together even if the whole family was not yet there because her parents had traveled to Barcelona, where her next race was going to be, with her brother the previous week to celebrate the birthday of the youngest of the Torres family and now a week later her grandparents, her uncles, aunts and her cousins were still to arrive so that everyone could attend the race on Sunday because they wanted to support Arabella in their native country. But this was nice, she had missed hearing her brother's nonsense, her mother acting like a mother and talking about cars with her father. She missed a normal life that she had never had.

"By the way" Her father caught her attention, turned her gaze to him drinking from her glass full of sangria. She saw out of the corner of her eye how she pointed to the team of Netflix’s cameras that surrounded them in the garden of the house they had rented during their stay in Barcelona “Do we have to speak in English or...?”.

Marisa, her mother, let out an disgusted moan “Oh, with how much I struggle with English”.

The green-eyed boy laughed as he nibbled at the chicken wing that his fingers were holding “I still don't understand how you don't know English, mom. Your children are literally international athletes, you should know English”.

"I know English" The eyes of the same color as that of her two children opened in the direction of the teenager before she began to speak in English with a very strong Spanish accent "How are you? I'm fine, thank you!” She smiled with self-centeredness, pointed to herself “See? what your mother doesn't know how to do...”

“Jeez" The girl murmured, sticking her lips to the glass again while her brother burst into laughter, almost chocking with the wing.

The one wearing the glasses looked at his wife with a small smile, obviously trying to hid the laughter that was about to come out, and winked at her “Of course, honey! you are good at everything”.

Her brother's smile increased when their mother smiled sending a kiss to their father, clearly not grasping the intention of his words. Arabella shook her head but still a smile had made room in her full lips, she left the glass on the table and lay down on her chair after making a sandwich with the chorizos that her father had cooked on the barbecue.

"It's for the Netflix’s Formula One docuseries" She spoke with her mouth full, making her mother look at her badly but she didn't see her because she was looking at her father. She shrugged her shoulders turning her gaze to the sandwich before giving it another bite “They wanted to see what my private life is like and we speaks in Spanish so no. Speak in Spanish, period”.

"But your private life so fucking boring" She looked at her brother badly while her teeth crushed the food in her mouth, he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Oh, really? Okay, okay, I don't invite you to the party tonight then” She smiled evilly at what the moto driver let out a gasp bringing his hand to his chest.

"So rude, sister" He shook his head "So rude”.

A pleasant silence covered the table after her brother's words. Manuel, her father, shared smiles with his wife while they watched their children eat. They had also missed the family moments and were grateful to be together, especially after what their daughter had gone through thanks to the internet.

"Then will you go out tonight?" The man cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his firstborn, who nodded.

"It's been the boys' idea" She rolled her eyes “They've just arrived and they already want to party”.

"Don't you have the classification tomorrow?" She nodded to her brother's question and grimaced when she felt their mother's gaze on her.

"Arabella Torres González, don't even think about drinking tonight." She raised her finger and pointed at her accusively. The girl nodded while father and son looked at each other knowing that she was indeed going to drink. The blonde turned her gaze to her plate when she began to cut a piece of bacon “If you drink, don't drive”.

"I wasn't going to go drunk to practice, but well" She murmured, giving the last bite to the bread. She wiped his lips with the napkin that was next to her plate.

The only brown eyed let out a breath of air when the cold Coca Cola passed through his throat and smiled “Well, I think it's great that you go out, honey. Especially after everything that has happened”.

She nodded, offering a smile to her father before looking down at her plate, a common reaction she had to the mention of the twitter situation.

"Do you think you're going to win?" She heard her brother ask and although she thanked him mentally because she knew that he had changed the subject to entertain her, she couldn't help to, without knowing why, tense.

Being honest, she knew why: everyone's eyes would be on her, not only because it was going to be the first time she was going to race in her country since she in formula one, but because of the same issue she was trying to avoid. She had disappeared since what happened, the only time the media could see her was in the Azerbaijan race and they didn't even see her too much because she refrained from doing interviews or any kind of media in addition to the fact that she had moved away from social media even closing her twitter account temporarily after announcing on Instagram live that she was tired of the comments towards her body.

She had managed to hide well from the paparazzi and that had made people talk about, the whole gossip magazines was talking about her and not only them because even in the sports they had mentioned her situation which had caught the attention of many celebrities, especially women, who defended her from the internet trolls and praised her for continuing with her sportiness above all. Her popularity had risen like foam and the contracts and offers of all kinds of brands had not taken long to reach her manager's email. The first offer they had accepted had been to be the cover of the May issue of GQ Magazine where she had taken the opportunity to talk about how the online comments about her body had affected her, which was something quite healing for her, being able to talk loudly about it because she had been keeping it to herself.

Before she didn’t give too much importance to her body, focused since she was a child on cars and nothing else had not gone through that stage in which insecurities about her physique tormented her but that controversy had provoked it. She had suffered a mini crisis in which she was never very hungry, she spent hours looking at her reflection in the mirror thinking that it was what was wrong with her, her wardrobe had changed to a more comfortable and wide one that did not reveal more than the minimum of skin and the salt of her tears was the only thing that fed her.

She wasn't proud of herself, far from it, but what could you wait for? She was just an eighteen-year-old girl receiving hatred everywhere, although none of those people had a face to look at when she read those insults Arabella could not prevent them from affecting her. And although she was much better now, after talking to Sebastian –who was on a plane on his way to Spain, because unfortunately he hadn’t been able to attend Azerbaijan– as if he were her personal psychologist and spending time with her family, she could not help but tense every time something reminded her of the small trauma she had experienced.

She closed her eyes inhaling and exhaling "I have a good feeling but I don't want to jinx it”.

Her mother's hand curled up on hers, looked up to see her and immediately felt a warmth and security invade her body causing her to relax her tense shoulders. Marisa González smiled sweetly at her daughter "No matter what happens, we will be proud of you, cariño. Okay?”.

She bit her lower lip feeling her eyes begin to sting, she nodded "Okay" Her voice came out more raspy than usual, causing the woman to get up from her seat and approach her daughter to hug her.

"THIS is so awkward" A somewhat drunk Lando looked worriedly at his teammate while he rolled his eyes denying. He pushed his arm when he saw him “Carlos! What do we do? I can't keep this secret that is eating me alive”.

"It's not a secret because we don't know if it's true" He leaned over to take his glass from the small table in front of the sofa on which they were both sitting and drank from it.

He was going to need alcohol to survive the night.

He opened his eyes in an exaggerated and paranoid way “What do you mean, Carlos? Look at them, they look like cats in heat!” He extended both arms towards the dance floor where they could see Arabella dancing with Daniel and Pierre while Charles was next to George at the bar, neither of the two pending the presence of the other to the very opposite of what number 4 had said.

A "Mmh" sounded on the other side and they both quickly turned their heads to see the Dutchman sitting on the other sofa. The McLaren's idiots opened their eyes with surprise when they remembered that the Red Bull driver was with them.

"So, do you think Arabella and Charles are together?" He raised one of his eyebrows, curious because he swore to have seen things among the members of the red team but he had not yet mentioned his suspicions to anyone.

"Don't tell anyone, but yes”.

"It's not that we believe it, it's that we know it" The British raised his index finger to emphasize his words.

"Oh, really? How?” Max moved in his seat, approaching them to try to get information from them because he had decided not to drink that night so he was bored as he watched his friends and co-workers approach the ethyl coma.

The curly-haired one approached him too, looking over his shoulder to prevent unwanted ears from hearing their conversation “Have you seen how they look at each other? Or at least how Charles looks at her? She is more discreet but he is not and clearly that look is not from friends”.

"Mmm" The 33 rubbed his chin before a mischievous smile crept into his lips "Maybe we can make them confess”.

"Ohhhhh" Lando laughed while Carlos pursed his lips.

"I don't know, guys" He denied taking another sip from his glass "We shouldn't get in, I also think they're angry at each other”.

"Yes” Verstappen’s blue eyes moved to the spaniard "I've noticed it too, they're acting weird. They don't talk much”.

Norris let out a moan of protest while patting his thigh “Now that we have something to entertain ourselves, they go and break up”.

"Shut up, shut up!" The eldest of the three exclaimed between his teeth when he saw Pierre and Arabella approaching the VIP zone, the reflections of the lights colliding against the brightness of the girl's skirt almost blinded him "They're coming, they're coming”.

Pierre let go of the girl's hand and dropped with a sigh on the sofa next to Max, who looked at him raising both eyebrows making the Frenchman smile at him unwillingly “God, i’m dead”.

"But we barely have danced, P” The girl who was still standing laughed, Carlos moved making room for her but she denied leaning a hand on his shoulder. She made puppy eyes “Carlitos, you coming to dance with me”.

He shook his head without looking at her because he knew he was going to give in if he kept looking at her “No, no, I'm okay here”.

"Oh, come on!" She complained before taking his hand and began to pull him but it was of little use. Releasing a blow, she sat next to him and took the cup, earning a complaint from him “You are the only one with whom I can sing the songs, this useless frenchie doesn’t know the lyrics”.

"Sorry for not knowing Spanish!" The other exclaimed as he raised both arms "I already know English and Italian and that is more than enough”.

"Hey, what about Daniel?" The Dutchman frowned when he realized that his former teammate was not in the group.

"He found a girl" The girl shrugged her shoulders accepting the glass of the other spaniard when he took a sip and then hand in it to her again.

Immediately everyone let out complaints in unison and she laughed because she knew why. They had decided to ignore the hotels and rent a house all together to be able to stay a couple more days in the country and, well, they were going to have to listen to the australian and his fling all night.

"Can I sleep with you today?" Carlos looked at her horrified because he was the one who had his room next to Ricciardo's, she denied what he opened his mouth in pain "Why not?"

"Because you don't want to dance with me" She was busy arguing with him so she didn't notice when Max collided his knee with Lando's to get his attention, once the boy looked at him he nodded to the girl opening his eyes.

"What?" He asked in a confused whisper to what Max rolled his eyes and Pierre approached them, curious about what was happening.

"Go dance with her so we can make Charles jealous”.

"Why is Charles going to get jealous because Bella dances with Lando?" Pierre looked at them strangely, he was not surprised about a jealous Charles because, obviously, he had also realized the feelings of his friends, what he didn’t understand was why was he going to feel jealous of the little boy of the McLaren team.

A demonic smile was planted on the full lips of the much acclaimed lion “You'll see”.

With his gaze he pointed to the duo that was approaching them and Gasly nodded impatiently to see how the Dutchman's plan unfolded.

"Bells" The voice of the curly haired one came out high and both the 10 and the 33 had to put their hands to their mouths to avoid laughing. The girl looked at him expectantly but smiling, he swallowed saliva feeling nervous suddenly “I can dance with you, if you want”.

She nodded before getting up and extending her hand towards him, who didn't take long to take her between his much larger one and let himself be guided by her to the dance floor. Along the way they met Charles and George, his blueish green eyes collided with the greens of the Monegasque who clearly did not look very happy at the image in front of him. He swallowed again, praying mentally that the elder would not end up beating him up. The girl in front of him kept pulling him, completely ignoring her teammate but not without giving a smile to her other British friend who responded by raising both thumbs.

Fuck he thought when the reggaeton song of which he didn't know how to pronounce its name changed to Reminder by The Weeknd. A wave of screams filled his ears when the first chords filled the nightclub, he watched as the sweaty bodies stuck even more when he heard the song and suddenly he felt that the shirt that decorated his torso was too small for him. He hooked his index finger on the neck to relieve the sensation a little but it didn't work too much.

His eyes went down to the girl in front of him, despite wearing heels she was still shorter than him so he could see the club above her head. He bit the inside of his cheek when they finally found a clear space on the track and turned around to look at him.

She analyzed him from top to bottom before showing him a nice smile "If you want we can go back, Lan. It's okay”.

He immediately denied “No, no, it's fine. Let's dance, that's what we've come for, right?”.

"Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable, tell me" She stood on her tippy toes to reach his ear because Abel Tesfaye's voice was too loud. The boy closed his eyes when he smelled her perfume “Okay?”.

She separated from him, enough so that they could look at each other's face but not so that their bodies would stop being against each other. He nodded speechlessly looking into her eyes and she smiled funny before taking her hands and placing them on her hips to which the boy opened his eyes wide making her throw her head after laughing.

"They are just hips, Lando!"

"Yeah, i know, but... don't blame me" He laughed too.

On the other side of the nightclub, their friends watched them as if they were the best show in the world while Charles felt that he was going about to throw up. He squeezed his grip on the glass that was in his hands without looking away from the young drivers, who now danced very close to each other. It should be him who was there moving his body next to hers, it should be him who had his hands on her hips, it should be him who had his arms around her neck. It should be him and not Lando.

"They would make a good couple" He heard Sainz speak, who was looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought that if she would date with one of us it would be Max" All the eyes, including Charles's, went to George, who had not realized that he had become the center of attention because he was very distracted on his mission to catch with his straw a gummie that was at the bottom of his glass.

The named one frowned “With me?”.

Pierre moved in his seat offended "Yes, what do you mean with Max?" Why not with me?”.

The Spaniard laughed scratching his leg over the fabric of his jeans “Don't you have a girlfriend?”.

"Shut up, Carlos. This is important” The Frenchman raised his hand trying to block the Spanish's face.

Russell's bulging eyes rose to look at his colleagues “I mean... I don't know, between Max and Bella there is like this strange tension but at the same time they get along well. I guess it will be because they are both so focused about beating Hamilton but I thought they would end up together”.

The green eyes of the number 16 traveled to his childhood rival, his desire to throw up became even stronger when he saw that he was struggling not to let out a smile. He knew that he had liked the British's words and although he couldn’t blame him because, to be honest, they were all young men and she was practically a goddess so he was not too surprised that he was not the only one interested in her.

"Mmmh" Pierre's lips furrowed in agreement. "Yeah, they wouldn't look bad together. It would be kind of enemies on the track to lovers off the track, it would make sense”.

Russell pointed it at him “Right?”.

"But she and Lando have already kissed" After Verstappen's words, everyone looked at him strangely.

Carlos let out a high-pitched squeal “It was you who interrupted them!”.

"Yes" He laughed nodding as he drank from his glass, he moved his gaze towards the boy sitting next to him.

"Well, Landito has a lot of advantage then" Carlos' honey eyes returned to the dance floor causing the others to imitate him. The youngest pair of the group were dancing as close as they could to each other, they were sure that not even a pen could fit between them, Arabella was with her back to him with her arms hanging from his neck while Lando hid her face in her neck and his hands kept a firm grip on the girl's waist.

"Do you think they will fuck tonight?" The dirty blond with a beard smiled like a kid, entertained by the reaction of his best friend but also happy that his friends got some kind of action.

"Looks like it”.

Before Max's words, he squeezed the glass so much that it exploded, attracting the attention of others and even of some people around them. He felt the cold liquid from his cup pierce the fabric of his pants when he released the last piece of glass that he was still holding in his hands. He waved his hand to get rid of the liquid and let Carlos take it to inspect that no crystal had been stuck in his skin.

"Fuck, Leclerc" The one with the raspy voice handed him napkins from the napkin holder that was on the low table in the center of the sofas.

He looked back at the dance floor ignoring how Carlos called a waitress or how Pierre and Max tried to clean the mess by throwing an unnecessary amount of napkins on the floor. Suddenly he was relieved when he saw the dark-haired British boy walking towards the table, with no trace of the brunette next to him.

"What happened?" Lando's disheveled eyebrows came together when he saw his friends trying to clean the floor and Charles soaked from top to bottom.

The monegasque had to look away from the boy when he noticed a mark of lipstick of the same color as the one Arabella wore on his cheek. He got up abruptly releasing a quick "I'm going to the bathroom" before leaving.

He walked through the club as if the devil himself was behind him, he ignored the screams of the people when the song changed and also the looks of the Spanish girls on him in addition to their whispers. Once he reached the hallway where the bathroom was, he let out a sigh, his knuckles had turned white from how hard he was squeezing his fists. He leaned against the wall taking advantage of the fact that the hallway was empty and sighed, bringing a hand to his hair.

Damn the day he met Arabella Torres. Since that day, everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong. He didn't blame her but the damn fate for playing with him that way.

He leaned his head on the wall, looking at the ceiling and thought that it wasn’t as he had expected the night to be. He had gone to the party hoping to be able to talk to her and fix their problems but no, she hadn’t even give a single look to him and that drove him crazy because since their fight and having left him lying in her driver’s room they hadn’t spoken, except for some video that the Ferrari stuff had forced them to record for the YouTube channel and little else. They hadn't even seen each other since the last race, they were supposed to have flown together from Azerbaijan to Barcelona but Arabella had run away to Madrid to celebrate her brother's birthday with her family so it had been almost two weeks since they had last seen each other.

For a moment he wondered what his life would have been like if maybe they were in different teams or if they were normal people and met at a party like this or maybe at college. Everything would have been very different and much easier.

He moved his head following the rhythm of the song without knowing that the lyrics said because it was in spanish and sighed when he heard the door of one of the bathrooms open, he looked down even without separating his head from the wall.

Oh, what a coincidence.

"What happened to your pants?" Arabella was in front of him, looking with a frown at the dark spot that covered much of the fabric that covered his leg.

"My glass exploded" He replied in a hoarse voice because he had not said a word almost all night. He observed her through his long eyelashes, trying to memorize the image in front of him before she ignored him again.

"Ah, good luck cleaning that then" She squeezed her lips and began to turn, ready to get out of there, to run away from him again but he prevented her by grabbing her wrist. She froze in his place, she had missed his touch, she let out a sigh trying to stay calm “Charles, let me go”.

"Why?" A cynical smile stood on his lips "Are you in a hurry to go back to Lando?".

He saw how she tilted her head to the side before she let go of his grip and turned around, he saw how she looked at him confused.

“What does Lando have to do with this?”.

"I've seen how he was kissing your neck and how you danced very close. Too close to be just friends" Everything around Charles was red, as red as the cars they drove or the uniforms they wore on weekends. He was jealous and drunk and didn't think too clearly because they both knew that he wasn't like that. Arabella looked at him strangely, she never seen him that way “What, have you already found my replacement?”.

"What the fuck?" She murmured in spanish. The girl was surprised and as incredible as it may seem, turned on.

"Maybe you can go to McLaren" He bowed his head as his gaze went from her eyes to his lips "But you know that orange will never look as good as red on you”.

She immediately realized that it was a metaphor and wanted to laugh but was too confused to do so. The alcohol in her system next to Charles' perfume wasn't really helpful. She knew that he was playing a game and that if she followed it she could get burned but everyone knew that Arabella Torres was reckless and that she liked danger.

Her confused expression changed, Charles couldn’t describe it but when she began to shorten the distance between them he began to walk backwards, unconsciously entering the women's bathroom, which was empty thank God. He felt his mouth dry when he saw that the girl's hand went to her chest where she began to play with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing “I'm not sure if the red fits me so well” Slow but very slowly she unbuttoned the first buttons revealing a red lace bra. She gathered his eyebrows looking at him with feigned curiosity and in an innocent tone asked him "What do you think?"

He blinked a couple of times before looking up at her. He cursed in French before shortening the distance and smashing his lips against hers. He passed his hand through his neck entangled his fingers between the soft waves of brown hair, closed his fist and pulled her hair forcing her to walk towards the sink. Her ass hit the edge of the marble board making her moan in his mouth because his free hand was squeezing her butt making the Prada's skirt rise and she could feel the cold marble against her skin. The moan in his mouth made him smile, his hands moving from top to bottom through her body caressing her barely covered skin thanks to the open shirt and the short skirt.

Her hands traveled to the boy's neck, one of them taking over the small strands that were born on the back of his neck causing Charles to open his lips but not move them, he stayed in his place watching as she twisted under his touch, the smug smile he had on his lips made her know that he was enjoying it. The tips of his bangs stuck to her skin thanks to the thin space between their foreheads tickling her, which was making her nervous.

Arabella let out a small moan when she felt his right hand go up from her ass to her naked thigh and go through the bottom of her skirt to her underwear. He kissed her again as he pressed with his finger –she wouldn’t know which one– against the fine red lace garment that separated her skin from the contact of his hand.

For a second she thought that she had reached glory when she felt how he was pressing even harder but she fell from the cloud when he separated. She looked at him frowning at what he gave her a smile of apology before asking her with his eyes if she was okay and comfortable with that.

At another time maybe she would have thought it was cute but she was drunk and horny so she could only roll her eyes and take his hand with hers to place it back on her panties “For God's sake, Charles. Just do it”.

This time it was she who joined their lips, ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself as hard as she could against him while their tongues fought each other. She let herself be embraced by his pleasant smell and the thousand sensations she felt when he was like this with her.

She released her grip on his hair and took her hands along a path from his neck to his chest where she took the shirt in her fists and, in one movement, pulled it breaking the buttons making them fly. He walked away from her when he heard the buttons touch the ground, he looked at them without expression before turning his gaze towards her, raising an eyebrow looking at her between his eyelashes. She bit her lip because, let's be honest, he looked too good looking at her like that from that angle.

"I'll buy you a new one" She went to tell him, but before she opened her mouth, he screwed his hands on the back of her thighs, causing her to let out a small choked scream in surprise when she didn't feel the ground under her feet.

She hissed when the cold of the marble hit the skin of her thighs although she was silent when she felt Charles' hands raise her skirt more to have better access between her legs. The monegasque released the garment when he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her without raising his face, giving a dark touch to his gaze. They watched each other in silence for a few seconds until Charles took his right hand to her jaw and kissed her quickly, separated from her but not enough so that their breaths didn’t mix and took his fingers to her lips.

"Open your mouth" He murmured still holding her gaze, the girl obeyed by letting his fingers pass between her lips meanwhile he looked down at her mouth “Suck”.

He watched with delight as the girl's swollen lips closed around his digits, he felt her tongue playing with them. He looked into her eyes and found that she was already looking at him and almost moaned at that moment.

"Merde, mon ange" He cursed when she let go of his fingers making a pop resonate through the empty bathroom. Shit, my angel.

"Charles..." She said his name in a sigh. He looked at her expectantly with his fingers still touching her lips, the skin of her mouth stained by the red lipstick collided with his finger tips surely staining them too “Charles, please”.

"Please, what?" His voice came out in a murmur but she still heard him and of course she did because the only thing she could hear, feel and smell was him. She was drunk but the alcohol wasn’t what the room had circling around her but him.

She hated Charles Leclerc, she hated the effect he had on her, she hated that even though she was angry with him she felt the stupid need to feel his skin against hers, she hated that they couldn’t be together, she hated that he was playing with her that way, she hated that it made her question every damn aspect of his life. She hated him.

Damn Leclerc and his perfect eyes.

She squeezed her grip on his shirt and kissed the fingers that hadn’t yet separated from her lips before looking at him through her long eyelashes with the most pleading look she could give him "I need you. Please”.

Pathetic, she thought for a moment but the boy's hands rolling up on the fabric that covered her private parts returned her to reality or at least to that bubble in which they had both locked themselves. She rested her hands on the white marble countertop and raised her hips to help him slide the garment down her legs before he made a gap between them and kissed her abruptly.

She felt how the tips of his fingers caressed the inside of her thighs until he reached his destination. She felt how they grazed her folds, covering them with her juices and she groaned in his mouth when she felt him slowly rubbing her clit.

The boy broke the kiss by grabbing her neck when she saw that she made the move of throwing her head back “Was that what you wanted?” His voice was so calm, in contrast to how trembling her breathing was “Did you want my fingers, mmh?”.

"Please" She groaned and he pressed his fingers harder.

She let out a gasp when his fingers slightly touched her entrance, pushed her hips against his hand desperate for his touch, that caused him to laugh. He put one of his fingers inside and a soft moan came out of her, hips moving again to look for some kind of liberation “More” She complained in a murmur under the intense gaze of the boy.

"More?" He smiled and inserted another finger, feeling the walls tighten around his fingers, his hand moving to equalize the movements of her hips, putting in and pulling out his finger being able to hear the wet sounds.

The whining and moans began to get stronger, the nails stuck strongly in the skin of his shoulder on the fabric of his shirt and he moaned at the sensation, looking at her as he fucked her with his fingers.

Arabella thought that not only did his fingers feel incredible, but he also looked so good in front of her and just by looking at him touching her she thought he could send her to the limit. His thumb went up to rub her clit causing her to sink her teeth into her lower lip, the sensation became too intense.

"I'm so c-close" She groaned and he straightened up, crashing his lips in hers, their tongues dancing in a passionate kiss while his fingers pushed into her faster and deeper. The fluids ran through his hand while his thumb applied even more pressure. She felt so overwhelmed that she couldn't even keep up with the kiss, she was too focused on how well her fingers felt inside her.

And just when she began to feel those tickles in her lower belly that she had rarely felt in her life, everything stopped making her open her eyes abruptly. She looked at the boy in front of her confused and moaned when she felt how her disconnected their bodies.

“Charles...”.

His free hand squeezed on the back of her neck, he approached her ear and she heard how he smiled, "You're right, red doesn't look that good on you.

He walked away from her causing a sudden feeling of being cold to cover her body, she frowned when he saw him crouch and take her thong from the floor. With a mocking smile he shook it before storing it in the pocket of his pants “I'll keep this, maybe it will bring me good luck and I beat you in your home race. See you, mon ange”.

He winked at her, causing his dimples to be marked on his face. She looked at him, her eyes shining thanks to the tears of frustration that had accumulated. She clenched her jaw watching how he was leaving the bathroom so calmly. She looked silently for a couple of seconds at the door through which he had disappeared before releasing a scream of rage. She swallowed between quick breaths and closed her eyes, dropping her head against the cold mirror.

"Fucking asshole”.

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 added to their story!

A mischievous smile was present Charles' face, who was looking at the photos that Arabella had uploaded. He looked up from his phone when he heard footsteps enter his part of the garage, he saw one of his teammate's engineers approach his car to talk to his own engineers. He ignored him and looked back at the device in his hands, trying to hide his deception when he saw that it wasn't the brunette.

But when a part of the conversation made its way to him he couldn't help but turn his attention to them. He continued looking at the phone and moving his thumb across the screen from time to time to disguise it.

"I recommend that you don't talk to Arabella today" Said the man whose name Charles didn't know. He had seen him several times in the other part of the Ferrari garage but the truth was that he had never paid much attention to Arabella's team. His ears perked up at the girl's name.

“Why?” His engineers were clearly not as interested as Charles as they didn't even give him a second glance and continued inspecting the car.

"Just don't say anything to her unless she talks to you first".

And with that he ran to the other end of the red walls. He frowned and got up from his seat, left the garage belonging to his team and began to walk towards McLaren's, ready to find Carlos because he knew on good authority that the spaniard was the one who kept the paddock's princess' secrets.

He laughed to himself wondering if she had told him what happened in the bathroom at the nightclub last night. He hesitated because she told him everything but he wasn't so sure if she would tell him that.

I'll find it out now, he thought as he saw the spaniard sitting on the ground with several others. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the other part of the McLaren duo but continued his pace towards them anyway.

"Haven't you noticed that she's acting strange?" The Australian's notable nose wrinkled at his own question. He narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah? No, I don't know" Alex raised his head looking at the others confused "I mean, I don't know her as well as you do but there is something different about her".

"Maybe she's just focused on trying to win in her homerace" His best friend shrugged, turning his head to look at the other side of the paddock. He raised both eyebrows when he saw him and was immediately excited "Charles is his teammate, surely he can tell us what is happening to our girl".

He looked down at him, his expression showing very clearly that he had not liked the way he had referred to the spanish woman. Gasly's annoyed smile widened as he separated the green from the blue and shook his head.

"We argued so she doesn't talk to me" He put his hands on both hips and rested his weight on one leg. He looked at Carlos surreptitiously trying to see some kind of expression that would give away that he knew about their relationship but nothing. On the one hand he felt relieved, on the other he felt the need to talk to someone about it but he knew it was too big a risk.

He felt Ricciardo's hand collide with his shoulder and then his contagious laughter filled his ears "Have you never heard the expression "happy woman, happy garage"?.

"What have you done now?".

He looked at Albon, putting a hand to his chest, offended “Why does it have to be me?”.

"She's the one who doesn't talk to you, the one who must have screwed up must have been you" Carlos joined his hands on top of his knees, his eyes focused on some distant point behind Charles' body.

He opened his mouth to complain but the vpice of the protagonist's of the conversation made everyone look in the same direction that Carlos had his eyes on. The girl walked through the paddock alongside a group of cameras and interviewers, answering her questions with her calm even though the press seemed to be about to kill each other to be able to walk near her. As if she were some kind of saint who just by being close to her and breathing her air would cure most horrible symptoms.

Lando broke the silence that had formed between them by speaking for the first time since the monegasque had joined them “They have never fought to interview me.”

"Me neither".

"Neither" Daniel responded and Alex just clicked his tongue.

He curled his lips and then remembered that in the other two races she hadn't done any kind of press. Charles didn't know why but it wasn't like he could ask her either. He watched her walk away and twisted his head, something was happening here.

"POLE position, baby!" Alexandre exclaimed in her ears and she laughed at the man's enthusiasm. As always before getting out of the car, she thanked the team over the radio and took off her helmet followed by her balaclava. She heard the roar of the Mercedes and watched as Hamilton's car parked next to hers, she saw him get out of her and copy her, taking off his helmet and balaclava. He looked at her and smiled at her raising both eyebrows to which she rolled her eyes and started walking away.

“Why are you avoiding me?” The British accent sounded soft and sweet next to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye seeing that he had not taken long to get next to her. She tightened her grip on her helmet.

"Because I don't want to see you" She smiled sarcastically still looking ahead. Lewis frowned and quickened his pace to stand in front of her, walking backwards. He observed her face delighting in it when he saw her make a face of frustration when she saw him in front of her "You're going to fall".

A smile planted itself on his plump lips “Aw, you care about me.”

"On the contrary, it would brighten my day" Sarcasm continued decorating her pretty smile.

"I thought me being second was what would make your day" He stopped his pace abruptly, causing her to collide with him, she placed her hands on his hard chest to avoid stepping on him and grunted in annoyance while the british man smiled, clearly enjoying the moment.

As if he were poison, she quickly let go. She looked up to see him, remaining silent for a few seconds because she didn't know they were so close to each other. She blinked before pushing him away, his annoying laughter soon filling her ears “Enjoy the views from the second place.”

The man laughed again watching her walk away from him towards her garage, her car being driven by one of the engineers following her at a considerable speed. He sank her teeth into his bottom lip before raising his voice“I'll do it! Believe me, I will".

She hurried into the garage, clenching her jaw as she saw the monegasque driver giving her a smile as if nothing had happened between them "Congratulations…"

She raised a hand blocking his face and his words before passing by him and heading to the hallway that would take her to her room, ignoring how the red polo shirts were soaked with champagne and how everyone was celebrating the pole position. Upon arrival she dropped the helmet on the ground without giving much importance to the loud noise it made when it hit the ground and threw herself onto the sofa while releasing a sigh. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"ARABELLA TORRES CROSSES THE STARTING LINE CROWNED AS THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!"

Despite the roar of the car engine and the cloaks covering her ears she could hear the screams of the audience. She frowned when she saw a sea of red and yellow flags, her team began to take their place on the fence that separated the track from the pedestrian zone, she saw how they shouted with smiles on their faces and how they waved their flag in the air and then she knew.

She had won.

She had won the last race of the season and just like that the fucking title of world champion was hers.

She laughed madly, raising her arm above the halo in celebration. She pressed the button on the radio and incredulously asked "Have I won?".

"YOU'RE WORLD CHAMPION, BABY!—She heard Susie's scream, behind the blonde's voice she could hear the others celebrating the victory. Her smile widened even more making her cheeks start to hurt. Wolff wiped her own tears and picked up the microphone, bringing it to her lips. "You've won, Arabella. You've done".

Her lips trembled but the smile didn't fade, her throat went dry and for a moment she saw blurred "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much to all of you, guys."

Come on, get out of the car so we can celebrate" This time it was Toto's voice that rang through her ears, he nodded and followed the few meters of road until she reached the sign with the number one. She parked in it and sighed before getting up from her seat and raising both arms in victory.

She got out of the car feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She took off her helmet and balaclava before kneeling on the ground right in front of the car, clasping her hands together and resting them against the nose of the black car and then resting her forehead on her hands, as if she were praying to the machine. She lowered her head until her forehead was almost touching the floor and, finally, she cried. She let out a sob so hard her chest hurt, and she grabbed the fabric of the chest of her suit tightly.

"Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!" For a moment she heard nothing but the audience chanting her name.

She sobbed again, raising her head, looking around around. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Was that really happening? She looked at the camera in front of her and with her hand on rop of her heart chehe vocalized several "Thank you" non-stop.

Suddenly she heard a loud bang and immediately afterward the screams of people, she looked at her hands and frowned when she saw that they were illuminated by an orange light.

She raised her head slowly seeing how her car was on fire, she moved her gaze to the right finding the red car embedded in the side of hers. She watched in horror as Charles's lifeless eyes looked back at her.

“Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!” The crowd's cries grew even louder and she willed them to shut up. She got up to run towards Charles but it was too late, neither he nor both cars nor even the circuit were there.

“Arabella, wake up” Some light pushes drew her to reality, with a gasp she opened her eyes, meeting Sebastian's face.

She smiled when she saw him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She heard his laugh and felt how he gave a kiss on her hair before caressing it.

"I'm here, siéger” He whispered into her ear, his voice immediately bringing him peace. She sighed against his shoulder “I'm here.” Champion.

"God, I've missed you so much" She murmured against his jacket, she hid her face even more in his neck, feeling the man's hand go up and down her back.

“Me too, siéger” He patted her on the back a couple of times and began to let her go. He looked at her with a frown “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yeah, but…wait” Her gaze ran to rest on the clock on the wall right next to the television. She opened her eyes in surprise before looking at the man kneeling in front of her "Is it Sunday already?".

Vettel nodded “Yes, you've been sleeping here since qualifying. It's been a long nap”.

She put her head in her hands, hiding her face in them, and let out a sigh “I didn't sleep much yesterday.”

“How much?”.

She denied, remembering that when she arrived at the villa that the boys had rented she couldn't sleep but instead stayed tossing and turning in bed all night without stopping thinking about the race and how frustrated the green-eyed boy had left her. Plus Carlos's unconscious body trying to hug her every chance she got didn't help her much “An hour”.

“Fuck, siéger” He let out an incredulous laugh “And yet you qualified on pole, incredible”.

She shrugged as if it was nothing. She turned her neck to both sides grimacing when she heard the bones creak and got up from the couch being followed by the german, who stepped forward to open the door for her.

They walked among the paddock, heading to the common cafeteria so the girl could have breakfast. They both ignored the surprised looks at seeing the former champion walk and chat so calmly next to the driver, since it was not public knowledge that she and Sebastian Vettel had known each other and had maintained a friendship since she was a child. She licked her lips watching the cameras not far from them, she knew that at any moment people were going to find out so she tried not to give it much importance while the dark blonde, on the other hand, looked a little worried.

Sebastian knew that the girl didn’t want the public to know about her friendship, either the one she had with him or with the Schumachers, since the public would quickly question all of her achievements in her career. Both Sebastian and Mick understood and agreed with her, they knew Michael would agree too. And that's how it had been since they met, distancing herself from the Schumacher’s son while they were in public when they met at a race even though they both wanted to talk or simply enjoy each other's company, not being able to go to Sebastian's races to support him or couldn't even talk about how the germans had become fundamental supports in her life since she met them at the tender age of eleven.

That's why he couldn't help but be surprised when he accepted her call and heard her invite him to the next race. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, he knew that she had had a bad time and he was worried about her, after all for him, she was like his eldest daughter. Not for nothing did his first-born daughter bear her name.

Once seated in the cafeteria, they were accompanied by the girl's manager and her publicist, who after waiting for her to have breakfast, dragged her away because she had to do some interviews.

“Don't you notice something strange on her?” Nicholas took a bite of his croissant, both men watching the two women walk away at a hasty pace.

“There is something in her gaze” He responded, nodding “Something that I don't know if I like”.

He had noticed it and it had not been difficult for him to recognize that shine in her eyes. He more than anyone could know it, because a while ago he also had that shine in his own eyes.

222 notes · View notes

planetmimi · 3 months

Text

decode - cl16

context: charles leclerc x black!fem!oc, some smau (cause i love those doooown)

faceclaim: @balialdn on insta

cw: none

summary: after a five-month social media break, artist Ahvi finally comes back to social media. her comeback is in the midst of dating rumors swirling around her and two of her...friends.

Italic = flashback

feedback is appreciated, this is my first one so please be nice

ahvi

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya and 8.473.875 others

ahvi: my french is getting better, might use it in this project…maybe? (be calm yall)

f1lover: CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! welcome back queen (im trying to be as calm, i think i might actually explode from happiness)!!!

username74: oh look the whore is back

username54: awww we all hoped you would never come back

username12: no fr! when her contract ran out i thought that we were finally done with her

username276: YOU DIDNT SAY FOR A WHOLE YEAR MAAM

lewishamilton: new music, maybe?

ahvi: maybe… if you get me paddock passes

lewishamilton: ask your boyfriend...maybe

ahvi: blocked, reported and banned from listening to my music cause OMG?! i just got back too?! like please ntm on me

charles_leclerc: teaching you french has been quite the challenge, i would like some type of credit please

ahvi: if you podium i'll think about it

charles_leclerc: and if i get P1 i want a song written for me and to be in the music video

ahvi: *gasps in étonnement* thats asking for a lot, P1 twice this season and you've got yourself a deal

username67: you should have never come back nobody wants to hear your shitty music

stanningahvi: the fact that it’s been damn near two years without any new music… and a year since we've last seen you👁️👄👁️

lew_max.444: no cause if this is a trick…imma do something heinous

ahvi: is this a threat ? cause it’s kinda feeling like a threat

ahvi4f1: i mean…we can make it one if you want us to 🤷🏾‍♀️

zendaya: as your bestfriend i have to let you know, if you don’t drop this, i will do so for you (i will leak it)❤️

ahvi: sounds like less work for me tbh 🤷🏽‍♀️

zendaya: alright yall secret project dropping next month at 4 pm PST

ahvi: ouuu d*sney dupe 🤭

tomholland2013: please, don’t check your messages mate

zendaya: don’t listen to him. go check your messages babe. go ahead.

ahvi: #CANCELZENDAYA

liked by: zendaya, tomholland2013 and 45.856 others

ahvi

liked by: lewishamilton, sza and 5.946.087 others

ahvi: why didn't y'all tell me Australia is so hot ?? oh wait.. thats just me sorry y'all

landonorris : FIRST !

ahvi: 15th actually

landonorris : ......... you think you're so funny huh

ahvisdrafts: i mean she is actually a full time stand up comedian, part time singer-songwriter.

ahvi: you get it

username2: so, you and whats his face broke up and now you're going between F1 drivers?

f1grids: wow, never expected an A lister to become a grid groupie

girly2pop: are you ready to write a song for that man?

ahvi: stooop. shhhhhh. if no one mentions it EVER AGAIN i won’t have to do it

normani: tea is she's actually written like six of em already

georgerussell63: why is it always me?!

username29: girl we've heard the rumors about you getting around miss paddock princess

username : never would i have expected ahvi to become as close as she is with the f1 grid…like i didn't even know she knew what f1 was

username9: shes sleeping her way through it lol

username: girl you need to back up off charles

username6: no for real...going to australia three weeks before race week? way to scream desperate

Over the last year Ahvi has become somewhat of a hermit, between rumors swirling of a potential relationship between her and Charles, and her break up with her ex-friend becoming known to the public. All of this buzz around her name has generated a lot of hate, whether it be from her ex-friend's fans, Charles fans or her own haters. For the last year Ahvi has just been the internet's punching bag, despite not being active on the internet.

In the year she took away from social media a lot happened, a lot changed. Before she started her break, she was just off a stadium world tour, about to drop her first proper album. She felt on top of the world, until one day, with only three months left in her tour. Just before her second day at Wembly Stadium, when she fainted during soundcheck and was sent to the hospital.

- a year ago -

Her heartbeats so loud she almost can't hear what the nurse in front of her is saying. The nurse smiles lightly "I know this is probably very shocking, so I will give you some time, but your options are a bit limited with how far along you are." Ahvi nods, trying to process the words that were said to her, "I just- I'm sorry, I know I've made you say it to me a hundred times over but just...one more time and can I see the results."

"Don't worry, this is a common response in this situation," the nurse says as she hands over the blood test results. Ahvi looks at the blood test results, there it is, in black and white, "your HCG levels are higher than normal," the nurse points to her HCG results. Aleyah's eyes follow the nurse's finger, "Your results put you at being 17 weeks pregnant." There's that word again, pregnant, the one part of this she can't wrap her head around. As the nurse was talking to her an ultrasound tech brought in an ultrasound machine.

Ahvi tries her best to truly listen and absorb what the nurses are telling her as she lifts her shirt up to start the ultrasound. When the ultrasound tech brings the wand to where the gel was put a fast heartbeat fills the room and tears swell in the young singers eyes.

The 22-year-old looks at the ultrasound screen, a small incredulous whisper tumbles from her lips, "what the fuck."

183 notes · View notes

spin34sworld · 9 months

Text

Raincaots (1)

CHARLES LECLERC X ORIGINAL FEMALE CHARACTER.

It was a cold night for Charles.

He was too angry when he left to get a jacket and now he is suffering the consequences. He wandered helplessly into the dark night as he dragged his feet with him and dug his hands deep into his pockets trying to keep them warm but felt his cold dead phone that had lost battery a while ago when he wanted to call someone to come get him. He was in a rough neighborhood in France, and he doesn’t want to admit it, but he was scared.

He found a bench and almost cried at the sight of it; finally he could rest his feet and his exhausted body. He knew it was stupid to run away just after a race but he was too angry at himself, the world, the media, everyone. As he sat down, he felt light drops hit his head and looked up and was hit with the light rain in his face, he will definitely get sick.

The rain just fell harder as if taunting him, guess his luck followed him out of the tracks too, he doesn’t know why he got so unlucky in his life. Sometimes he felt like ending it all - all the suffering, everything - but then he couldn’t.. he suffered so much to be where he is, he couldn’t do that to his mum, both of his brothers, he couldn’t be selfish. As he was lost in his thoughts he heard a crunch around him in the rain and he immediately tensed up.

Please don’t rob me, please don’t be a fan.

He kept chanting this in his mind as the footsteps echoed closer as he tried to pull his hoodie down further to cover his face - but it would only cover his forehead.

“Hello..” a French female accent said. She was standing just next to him on the bench, he thought about ignoring her, but before he could look up, he felt something fall into his lap.

A raincoat.

He looked startled to find a small figure wearing all black with the hoodie up too, but he can see dark hair sticking on the side of her face.

“Here, take this.” Her voice was soft and raspy with the French accent.

“I-I can’t take it,” Charles was speechless at first, who in their right mind gave up a raincoat to a stranger in the rain.

“You look like you need it more than me,” the girl shifted her weight on her left leg as she crossed her arms, trying to stop shivering, she knows she will regret what she has done, but he had looked so cold and out of place that she couldn’t have it in her heart to leave him.

“Look, just wear it before you get sick.. please,” the unknown girl nodded at him and at the jacket in his lap. He stared at her, dumbfounded, before the rain got harder and he quickly wore the jacket.

“You don’t look like you are from around here” the girl said.

“No. I was walking and got lost,” he switched to French as he noticed that it was hard for her to speak English.

“You are French?” The girl couldn’t hide her surprise.

“No no, Monegasque. "He usually got annoyed when people always said he was French, but he couldn’t get annoyed this time.

“Really? I hear it’s beautiful there,” the girl grinned and he couldn’t help but smile once he saw her smile. She is one of those people that had a radiant, contagious smile.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“You said you got lost? Are you alone in the city?”

“No. I was with my uhh… friends”

“Vocation?” The girl that was once standing next to the bench sat on the other side of it with a wide space between them that could fit his teammate, Carlos, and there would still be space to spare.

“No, work,” she nodded but stayed silent as she stared ahead, and it seemed that she got an idea.

“Which hotel are you in?” Charles was puzzled with the question - a little weirded out - but he told her the name.

“Let’s go.” She quickly stood up and started to make her way to the street. Charles immediately stood up and followed her.

“Where are we going?”

“Taking you home of course”

They neared a street which only few cars passed indicating how late it was before suddenly the girl flagged down a car which was a taxi.

“I have no money” Charles said quickly as he also forgot his wallet when he ran.

“Yeah I guessed” she walked towards the taxi she flagged and leaned down to the open window as she exchanged words with the driver. She glanced back at charles and that when he saw her full face as her hoodie fell down when she leaned down, she had long dark hair that was wild, her eyes was dark but he knew it wasn’t brown, another color and had few freckles on her nose, she raised her thick eyebrows as she looked at him staring at her.

“Get in” she opened the door for him and he felt like a child as he got in the taxi, the young woman closed the door behind him and bent down to talk to him through the open window.

“He will take you to your hotel” she nodded towards the driver who was sure watching them from the mirror, she dug into her pants pocket and pulled her wallet and gave him 50 euros which was way more than the taxi will take.

“That's way too much” he said as he took the money from her and he brushed her finger which sent tingles throughout his body.

“Keep the change, now safe trip” she pulled back as she signaled the driver to move.

Once the taxi moved away that's when he finally came to his senses that there is a lot of things missing, he didn't know her name, number or anything and that's when he noticed that he still wore her raincoat where she is probably still without a coat in this rain, immediate guilt him like a truck and he suddenly couldn't stop imagining the young kind woman sick because of him, he would never forgive himself, when it suddenly got so suffocating in the car he took off the jacket and there had the smell of vanilla which was probably her smell and h e fell in love with the smell.

When he was placing the jacket properly in his lap to avoid any creases he noticed a name written in the back of the tag.

Isabelle.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #female characters #original character #f1 imagine #sad thoughts #tw death #fluff #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic

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s-st4rg1rl · 3 months

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okay so bc some reasons that i'm too lazy to explain hshshsh i started another blog and i will post everything i posted here there and i will delete this one so go follow me there!!: @st4rg1rl-16

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sterredem · 3 days

Note

Hii !!! I've been obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter's new song Esspresso and I was wondering if you could do a smau with Charles Leclerc x singer!reader based on it !!

Love the request!

I posted it!

Sorry that it took so long, but I wanted to make it but than I was watching Star Wars with my mom and fell asleep (I wanted to make it after). I hope you like it!

Espresso

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44-in-color · 2 years

Text

The Wrong Account | Charles Leclerc

pairing: female oc x charles leclerc word count: 915 warnings: none :)

synopsis: Charles gets his girlfriend in a lot of trouble when he posts a picture on his Instagram...

The forecast said the day was supposed to be warm and sunny. So, Charles and Danielle had invited the AlphaTauri duo out for a relaxing day on the yacht during the summer break in Monaco. The group spent the day sunbathing, jumping into the sea, and laughing at Charles when he faceplanted into the water.

As the sun started to set and the wind picked up, Danielle felt the chill sink into her bones. After poking Charles to find out if he brought a jacket with him - he hadn’t - Pierre was quick to dig around his beach bag. She laughed as he yelled triumphantly at finding the AlphaTauri blazer stuck at the bottom of his bag.

Danielle slipped on the white and black jacket, mumbling a small thanks and turned to find Charles looking on in fake betrayal. She only laughed in return, quickly sliding her hand into Pierre’s bag to steal a matching AlphaTauri cap and placing it on Charles’ head.

Charles pretended as if he had been struck in the heart, which made her laugh harder. Soon enough, Charles was chasing Danielle all around the yacht in an attempt to exact revenge through a tickle war.

Pierre and Yuki took great amusement in the whole situation. Pierre had started pulling out his phone to record their shenanigans when Charles finally got a hold of Danielle. He discretely took a photo instead, Charles and Danielle’s smiles wide, Charles’ arms wrapped around Danielle and just barely lifted her off the ground. They looked young, happy, and in love.

The photo was soon sent to the couple, and quickly became Danielle’s home screen. They were so used to seeing it they hadn’t realized anything was wrong with putting it on Charles’ private Instagram account. So, when Charles posted a photo, this photo, the next month on his official Instagram instead of his private one, he created loads of chaos for his team.

She could imagine the headlines now-

A Ferrari driver wearing the merch of their rival’s sister team!

Charles Leclerc unsatisfied with Ferrari - Looking towards AlphaTauri?

AlphaTauri poaching Charles Leclerc, Ferrari’s Number One Driver.

Who will Charles Leclerc unseat at AlphaTauri, Pierre or Yuki?

With arms wide open, Danielle embraced the coming disaster. She had been working at Ferrari for the past few months in their PR department, and she knew Charles’ latest post was going to get both of them in a lot of trouble.

Looking back down at said post, she could only sigh in resignation, “You have gotten us in so much trouble, Seize.”

She remembered when the photo was taken, a fond smile creeping onto her face. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the golden rays warming her skin, his strong arms wrapped around her as she leaned against him. The crisp smell of the ocean swayed around them and mixed with the stark smell of his aftershave.

A series of knocks on the door took her from her daydream. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the scolding she was about to receive from her boss, she quickly sighed in relief when it was just Charles at the door.

“Ma chérie, I am so sorry! I only just noticed it was to the wrong account and-” Danielle pulled him inside and wrapped him in a hug, arms slipping around his back. His chin rested on top of her head as she slotted perfectly into his hold.

“Don’t worry, Charles. Relax, I’m not mad- well, I’m a little mad but we’ll deal with that later.” Her voice was slightly muffled as she spoke into Charles’ soft hoodie, his scent comforting her from the hell she was going to receive soon.

“Are we in trouble, ma chérie?” His voice was soft, but he held her tightly as if afraid something or someone was coming to snatch her away from him.

“So much trouble, Seize,” she giggled into his chest, “so much trouble. But it’s okay, we’ve got each other. We’ll be fine.”

Danielle could hear a throat clearing, but as she tried to step back Charles just squeezed her tighter against him. She softly whispered his name and gently squeezed his arm, and he reluctantly let her go. Sliding a polite smile onto her face, she turned to face her boss, Serena, who looked completely unimpressed with the couple standing before her.

“I honestly don’t know what to say. Should I scold you for letting this happen or should I scold Charles for being stupid enough for thinking about posting this in the first place?” She was quick to hold up her hand when Danielle tried to reply.

“That was a rhetorical question. I will be scolding both of you, so I hope you don’t have anywhere to be,” she pointed towards the seats across the table and the pair slowly slid down into them as if they were toddlers being put into time-outs.

After getting lectured at for what seemed to be days, Serena finally left the couple with a warning that this could never happen again. Danielle’s hands covered her face only moving to whack Charles on the shoulder when he started to giggle. However, this only led to him laughing louder which in turn caused Danielle to start laughing as well.

“You are so lucky I love you, Charles Leclerc,” He only smiled in return, grabbing her hand and leaving a chaste kiss on it.

“I love you too, ma chérie.”

#formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 blurb #f1 x oc #original female character #original character #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #scuderia alphatauri #pierre gasly #yuki tsunoda #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fanfic

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vettelsbees · 15 days

Text

Tu es ma joie de vivre Masterlist

Concept Introduction

Alandra Pereira Masvidal

Laila Borelli

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (2020)

Chapter 3 (2021)

Chapter 4 (2021)

Chapter 5 (2021-2022 Winter Break)

Chapter 6 (2022)

Chapter 7 (2022)

Chapter 8 (2022-2023 Winter Break)

Chapter 9 (2023)

Chapter 10 (2023)

Chapter 11 (2023)

Chapter 12 (2023)

Chapter 13 (2023-2024 Winter Break)

Chapter 14 (2023-2024 Winter Break)

Extras:

Pending!

#Tu es ma joie de vivre #joie #charles leclerc x original female character #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc masterlist #charles leclerc x ofc #female!driver #lando norris x original female character #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x ofc #charles leclerc x oc #lando norris x oc #f1 original series

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elia-the-bibliophile · 4 days

Text

Barking Up the Right Tree (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,6k

When Charles loses his beloved pup, Leo Leclerc, a chance encounter with Y/N sets off unexpected connections, with Leo as their furry matchmaker.

Chaos ensued within the walls of Charles Leclerc's apartment. The normally serene atmosphere was shattered by the frantic shouts of a disheveled Charles, whose in a state of sheer panic.

“Leo! Leo Leclerc, where are you, you little rascal?” Charles bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls in a comically dramatic fashion.

His apartment was like a crime scene. Furniture was overturned, cushions were scattered haphazardly, and drawers were flung open with reckless abandon. Charles, with his hair disheveled and clothes askew, resembled a character straight out of a slapstick comedy.

In his frenzied search for his beloved puppy, Charles would left no stone unturned, quite literally. He rummaged through cabinets, peeked under the sofa, and even checked inside the refrigerator, all to no avail.

“Leo, this is no time for hide-and-seek!” Charles exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice as he stumbled over a stray slipper.

He then moved his search outside. As Charles raced through the corridors of his apartment building, his anxiety reached fever pitch. With each passing minute, his desperation intensified, evident in the way he nervously gnawed on his nails, his mind swirling with worst-case scenarios.

“Merde! I've lost my son! Comment cela pourrait-il arriver.”

Undeterred by the curious stares from his neighbors and fueled by a single-minded determination to find Leo, Charles pressed on, his heart racing with every beat. The thought of his beloved puppy lost and alone filled him with a sense of dread he couldn't shake.

With a frantic flutter of fingers, Charles dialed his younger brother Arthur's number, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a drummer in a speed metal band. As the phone rang, he paced back and forth in the hallway.

“Arthur! Arthur, it's Charles,” he blurted out as soon as his brother picked up, words tumbling out of his mouth.

But poor Arthur, who was likely expecting a casual chat about the latest racing gossip, was utterly unprepared for the torrent of words that assaulted his ears.

“Woah, Hey. Slow down, Charles, I can barely understand a word you're saying!” Arthur protested, his voice barely audible over the static of the phone line.

Charles, however, was in no mood to slow down. With a mind as revved up as a Red Bull engine on race day, he continued to babble on at breakneck speed, his words blurring together into an incomprehensible stream of syllables.

“Leo's missing, Arthur! I've searched everywhere, but he's nowhere to be found!” Charles exclaimed, his voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass.

But try as he might, poor Arthur simply couldn't keep up with his older brother's frantic pace. In the end, all he could do was offer a bewildered “What? Please speak like a normal person.”

Charles took a quick, short breath to anchor himself. With newfound focus, he prepared to explain the emergency concisely to Arthur, knowing that every second counted in finding Leo.

“Arthur, listen carefully," Charles began, his voice measured this time. “Leo, my puppy, he's gone missing. I need your help to find him.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Arthur processed the information, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in tempo.

“Leo's missing?” Arthur repeated, his voice tinged with concern. “Don't worry, we'll find him together. I'll be there in a flash.”

With Arthur's reassurance ringing in his ears, Charles responded. “Thank you,” nodding along, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

And so, Charles hung up the phone. Little did he know, however, that the help he sought was already on its way in the most unexpected of forms.

__________________________________________

Y/N had just finished working, the gentle breeze caressed her skin, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. Monaco, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, seemed to shimmer with an ethereal beauty, casting long shadows that danced playfully along the cobblestone streets.

Today, the weather was exceptionally pleasant, with hints of spring lingering in the air. The scent of blooming flowers mingled with the salty tang of the sea, creating a symphony of fragrances like no other.

Y/N was startled by a faint sound emanating from a nearby bush. At first, she froze in place, “What the—.”

With cautious steps, Y/N approached the bush, her senses on high alert as she strained to identify the source of the mysterious sound. Her palms grew clammy with nervous anticipation, her breaths shallow and quick as adrenaline surged through her veins.

And then amidst the rustle of leaves, she heard it—a soft whimper, barely audible yet unmistakably plaintive. In an instant, fear gave way to compassion as Y/N's instincts kicked into overdrive, overriding her hesitation.

She pushed aside the foliage as she peered into the shadows within. And there, nestled among the leaves, was a small, trembling form—a lost and frightened puppy, its eyes wide with fear and confusion.

With gentle hands, Y/N scooped up the puppy, cradling it against her chest in a gesture of reassurance. She whispered soothing words, her voice soft like a lullaby, as she stroked the puppy's fur in rhythmic motions.

Feeling the warmth of Y/N's embrace and the steady beat of her heart, the puppy began to relax, its panicked whimpers gradually subsiding into quiet sighs. It nestled closer to Y/N, seeking consolation in her comforting presence, as if sensing that she meant no harm.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for, the puppy lifted its head and looked up at Y/N with eyes that sparkled with trust. With a tentative wag of its tail, it leaned forward and pressed a gentle lick against Y/N's cheek, a silent gesture of gratitude, making her chuckle with just a simple act.

“Hi, little one. I don’t know who you are, but I promise I’ll help get you back home, okay?” The puppy let out a soft woof, as if in agreement.

__________________________________________

When Arthur arrived at Charles' apartment, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a sitcom gone awry. His older brother, usually so composed, looked like a fish out of water amidst the lavish surroundings.

“Charles, what in the world are you doing?” Arthur exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the sight before him.

But Charles, lost in the throes of his own melodrama, barely registered his brother's presence. “I've lost Leo, Arthur! My precious Leo!” Charles wailed, his voice echoing off the walls like a mournful opera singer.

Arthur blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of this erratic behavior. But Charles was already off on another tangent, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger as he ranted and raved about the injustice of it all.

“I've searched high and low, Arthur, but he's nowhere to be found! What if he's been kidnapped and sold to the meat market? Or worse, what if he's fallen into the clutches of the neighborhood cat gang?”

Arthur could only stare in bemusement as Charles launched into a series of increasingly outlandish scenarios, his arms flailing wildly in the air. “Charles, calm down!” Arthur interjected, trying in vain to inject some semblance of reason into the situation. “We'll find Leo, I promise. But first, you need to pull yourself together!”

And so, with Arthur's attempts at reason falling on deaf ears, the two brothers found themselves locked in a battle of wills—one determined to bring order to the chaos, and the other lost in a world of his own making.

__________________________________________

With a gentle pat on the back, Y/N lowered the puppy to the floor, watching with a smile as it tentatively sniffed and explored its new surroundings. The apartment, though small, was filled with touches of homely comfort—a plush rug nestled beneath a worn armchair, a scattering of potted plants adorning the windowsill, and soft, inviting cushions scattered across the sofa.

“It's okay, little one,” Y/N cooed. “You're safe here now.”

Encouraged by her words, the puppy ventured forth with cautious steps, its tail wagging tentatively as it took in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. With each passing moment, it seemed to grow more at ease.

Its curious nose led it to a corner where Y/N had left a worn cardigan on the floor. With a delighted yip, the puppy bounded over to the garment, nuzzling into its soft folds with unabashed enthusiasm. It snuggled into the fabric, finding comfort in the familiar scent of its new human friend.

Y/N watched with a smile as the puppy nestled into her cardigan, her heart swelling with affection for the adorable creature. “Well, it looks like you've found yourself a favorite spot,” she remarked fondly.

Turning her attention to the puppy, Y/N reached out to stroke its fur. “I'm sorry that I don't know your name,” her eyes meeting the puppy's in a silent exchange of understanding. “For now, I'll just call you chiot.”

Chiot let out a happy bark in response, as if to signify its approval. It wagged its tail enthusiastically.

With a smile, Y/N reached into a nearby cupboard, retrieving a handful of leftover treats from her weekend dog-sitting gigs. “Here you go, chiot," she said, offering the treats to the puppy with an encouraging smile. “You deserve a little something special for being such a good boy.”

Chiot eagerly accepted the treats, gobbling them up with gusto as if to say thank you in the only way it knew how.

Y/N rose from her seat to retrieve her phone. Social media, after all, had a remarkable ability to connect people and she was determined to reunite chiot with his rightful owner.

As she approached the window where the soft light filtered in, Y/N smiled widely at the sight of chiot playing with the edge of her cardigan. It was a picture-perfect moment—one she knew could tug at the heartstrings of even the most stoic of social media users.

With deft fingers, Y/N snapped a quick photo, capturing the essence of the moment in all its adorable glory. She added a caption to accompany the image, a plea to the online community to help her find chiot’s missing owner.

“Lost pup found a cozy spot in my cardigan. I met him on Rue Jean Bouin on my way home. Help me find its owner, Twitterverse! #LostPuppy #Monaco”

With a satisfied nod, Y/N hit the "tweet" button, sending the message out with a hopeful anticipation. And as she watched the likes and retweets trickle in, she couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism that, with a little help from the online community, chiot would soon be home.

Y/N then set her phone down on the counter and turned her attention to the stack of dirty dishes awaiting her. The mundane task of washing dishes was a welcome distraction from the excitement of the afternoon, offering a sense of grounding in the familiar rhythm of her usual daily life.

As she rolled up her sleeves and reached for the dish soap, Y/N hum the newest Sabrina Carpenter’s song under her breath, the melody weaving its way through the air. With practiced efficiency, she tackled the dishes one by one, the warm water soothing her hands as she scrubbed away the remnants of meals past.

__________________________________________

As Y/N tackled her chores, little did she know that her tweet had sparked a wildfire of activity on Twitter. Within moments, it began trending, its reach extending far beyond the borders of Monaco. Twitter users from all corners of the globe joined in the effort, sharing the photo of chiot and spreading the word in the hopes of finding its owner.

But as the photo made its rounds on the internet, eagle-eyed users couldn't help but notice something uncanny—the striking resemblance between chiot and Leo. Speculation ran rampant, with Twitter sleuths piecing together the puzzle one clue at a time.

“Could that be Leo?” one user pondered, their tweet quickly garnering hundreds of retweets and likes.

“OMG, I think you're onto something! Let's get this to Charles Leclerc.” another user replied.

And so, they all flooded Charles’ mentions, bombarding him with tweets and notifications.

Meanwhile, Charles’ annoyance grew with each incessant ping of his phone. With a frustrated sigh, he snatched the device and thrust it into Arthur's unsuspecting hands, his brow furrowed in irritation.

“Read it and tell me what on earth is happening for it to be ringing so much,” Charles grumbled.

But as Arthur's eyes scanned the screen, his expression transformed from confusion to excitement in a matter of seconds. His jaw dropped open in disbelief, eyes widening. “Charles, you won't believe this!” Arthur exclaimed excitedly. “The people on Twitter, they've found Leo!”

Charles froze, his dramatic facade crumbling in an instant as the weight of Arthur's words sank in. His mouth hanging open in a silent gasp as he struggled to process the sudden turn of events.

“They've found Leo?” Charles repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as hope blossomed within him. “Are you sure? Don’t give me false hope.”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically as he relayed the details of the Twitter frenzy. “It's true! They've been retweeting and tagging you like crazy. We need to check it out right now!”

As to prove his point, Arthur shoved the phone back into Charles' face, the screen ablaze with the viral picture. And there, in all his adorable glory, was Leo—staring back at Charles. His breath caught in his throat, as he reached out to touch the screen, as if to confirm that this was indeed real. “Leo,” Charles whispered, tears of joy welled up in his eyes. “You're safe.”

He stared upon the image of his beloved puppy, surrounded by a sea of retweets and likes, “Thank you, kind Twitter people,” Charles murmured. “You've truly worked a miracle today.”

And with that, Charles message the account that originally posted the photo. Their reply comes not even a minute later.

__________________________________________

Y/N jumped excitedly. “I've found your owner!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she clutched her phone tightly in her hands. “Well not exactly, since they found me first.” She said to chiot whose name is apparently Leo.

She quickly composed a message to the anonymous account that had reached out to her, fingers flying across the screen with practiced ease. “Hi there, please come to my apartment to pick Leo up. Here's my address,” she wrote, including the details of her humble abode.

But as she hit send, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of her mind—she still didn't know who she was reaching out to. The message had come from an anonymous account, offering little in the way of clues except for the name “Charles.”

But Y/N, ever the optimist, simply shrugged off her concerns. “Well, I'll find out soon enough,” she reasoned aloud to herself.

And with that, Y/N waited patiently for Leo's owner to arrive, she allowed herself to bask in the warm glow of the moment, savoring the magic of the unexpected connections that life had brought her way.

__________________________________________

Charles and Arthur arrived at the address provided, they found themselves standing before a modest apartment building, its faded facade hinting at the stories contained within its walls.

They climbed up three level of stairs before reaching the designated floor, their hearts pounding from either anticipation or the effort that it took to climb here. Arthur then raised his hand to knock on the door. The sound echoed through the hallway like a drumroll.

With a breathless hush, the door swung open, revealing Y/N with Leo cradled in her arms like an infant. The puppy barked excitedly at the sight of Charles, his tail wagging furiously as he squirmed in Y/N's embrace.

And there, in that moment, time seemed to stand still as Charles beheld the sight before him. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of Leo, but his gaze was also drawn irresistibly to the figure standing before him.

“Leo!” Charles greeted, his voice filled with unbridled joy as he reached out to scoop the puppy into his awaiting arms. Leo responded with an enthusiastic lick to Charles' face.

But as Charles looked up to thank Y/N for her kindness, he found himself momentarily speechless, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her standing before him. She was even more beautiful up close.

“Thank you so much for finding him,” Charles managed to say as he looked into Y/N's eyes. “I can't begin to express how much this means to me.”

As Y/N stood before Charles, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest, she struggled to find the right words to convey the mix of emotions swirling within her. Her mind raced a mile a minute, leaving her speechless and utterly flustered.

“Um... hi, yeah. You’re welcome.” Y/N stammered as she struggled to regain her composure. But try as she might, the words seemed to elude her. And so, with a helpless shrug and an awkward smile, she simply stood there, her gaze locked with Charles', her mind a blank canvas awaiting inspiration.

Meanwhile, Arthur, ever the astute observer, couldn't help but notice the strange exchange unfolding before him. A suppressed chuckle bubbled up within him, as he watched his brother turn into an awkward mess. The woman opposite him doesn’t look that good either.

Arthur discreetly nudged Charles with his elbow, Charles just shot him back an annoyed look.

Was he witnessing his brother, THE Charles Leclerc, developing a crush on someone he had just met?

His suspicions were only heightened as he noticed Charles' telltale fidgeting—the nervous habit of tugging at the edge of his jacket, a sure sign that his brother was feeling the heat of the moment. With each tug and twist of the fabric, Charles seemed to grow more and more flustered.

But if Charles was nervous, then Y/N was equally oblivious to her own telltale signs of attraction. Unbeknownst to her, she was absentmindedly fixing her hair, smoothing down stray strands with delicate fingers in a gesture as unconscious as it was endearing. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity as she met Charles' gaze.

And all the while, Arthur stood there, caught in the crossfire of his brother and this alluring stranger, no longer able to suppress the laughter from deep within him. It was a scene straight out of a romantic comedy. The sheer absurdity of it left Arthur struggling to keep a straight face.

As Arthur's laughter reverberated through the hallway, Charles and Y/N were jolted awake, their gaze meeting in a shared moment of bemusement. With a sheepish smile, Charles extended his hand towards Y/N and she accepted the gesture with a shy smile, her hand fitting nicely in his.

“It's nice to officially meet you, Y/N,” Charles said, his voice sincere. “I can't thank you enough for taking care of Leo.”

Y/N returned his smile with a warm one of her own. “Oh, it was no fuss at all,” she replied. “I loved every moment of taking care of Leo. He is very sweet.”

Leo let out a playful bark, his tail wagging furiously as if to confirm that he had indeed behaved well during his unexpected adventure.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Leo's enthusiastic response, her heart melting at the sight of his playful antics. With a tender smile, she reached out to rub his head affectionately, her fingers sinking into his soft fur as she showered him with praise.

“You're such a good boy, Leo,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection as she gazed into his soulful eyes. “Thank you for spending some time with me.”

Charles realized it is time to take his leave, even though every fiber of his being longed to stay and say more. With a polite nod and another murmured word of thanks, he turned to make his exit, his heart heavy with the weight of missed opportunities.

But just as he took a few steps on the direction of the stairs, Charles felt a sudden weight lift from his arms as Leo wriggled free and bounded back towards Y/N, his tail wagging eagerly as if urging her to come along. Charles froze in his tracks.

Y/N, however, frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she watched Leo's antics. “I'm sorry, Leo,” she said. “But I can't come with you. You’re back with your dad now.”

At her words, Leo let out a soft whine, his ears drooping in disappointment. His eyes now glistened with unshed tears.

And as Charles watched the exchange between Y/N and Leo, a pang of sympathy tugged at his heartstrings, his own feelings of awkwardness momentarily forgotten. He longed to reach out and comfort them both.

But alas, the moment passed too quickly and before Charles could find the words, Leo sullenly walk back to him.

Before his mind could process his thoughts, Charles blurted out, “Uh by any chance can I, uh, get your number?”

Y/N's grin widened into a radiant smile at his request. She went inside and came back with pen and scrap of paper, her movements graceful as she jotted down her digits.

But Y/N wasn't done yet. She added one final touch to the paper—a little doodle of Leo, complete with a wagging tail and a cheerful smile. Beneath the sketch, she scribbled a note that read, “And if you ever need a dog sitter for this little troublemaker, you know who to call!”

“Sure thing!” she chirped. “Here you go.”

And as she watched him tuck the paper into his pocket, she knew that not a minute would go by without her waiting for that message from him to arrive.

2K notes · View notes

httpiastri · 4 months

Text

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

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stcrgazings · 2 years

Text

Mending the broken pieces | (c.l)

[WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME PT2]

This is the second part of why won’t you love me to read the first part is here

note: soooo, the part 2 of why won’t you love me is finally here and I am completely obsessed with how it turned out, I hope y’all enjoy it reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it, happy reading!! Btw pls leave your feedback and let me know if you liked it.

pairing: charles leclerc x female character/reader

summary: in the second part of why won’t you love me, you and Charles try and fix things but will it be enough?

warning: alcohol, cursing, cigarettes, slight anxiety attack, crying, fighting, slight mentions of sex. (didn’t know if y’all wanted smut so I didn’t included it)

word count: 3.3K

———

It had been three days since you left.

And every minute that passed Charles felt the sink in his stomach dig further.

Okay so he had been the absolute biggest dick in the whole country of Monaco, and he had the time to realize that as the hours passed after you left.

He couldn’t believe the way he acted towards you and it angered him even more that it took, you leaving for him to realize it.

He took the last caramel brownie that you had made on Friday that he didn’t even notice to his mouth, as he dialed your phone once again for the thousand time on those last three days.

He knew he was acting selfishly the moment he arrived and locked himself in that stupid simulator room, he knew he should’ve just eat the pasta, he knew you were incredibly excited for the trip to Portofino and that that cancellation would’ve hurt you and he knew that you made the brownies just for him to try, and he knew it wouldn’t have killed him to watched the movie with you, but he just didn’t.

Why? Because he just didn’t feel like it, because for that whole week he just assumed you’d be there, that you’d just take it because he knew that you loved him, he straight out took you for granted, assuming you’ll always be there for him, even when he directed an entirety of 20 words to you in the whole first week of the summer break.

So he had called, and texted and apologized through voicemails and messages but without getting a response from you whatsoever, not even a delivered on the sight.

“Come on baby, pick up, please” he whispered to himself as the phone rang for a third time, the clock in the wall marking almost 2 am.

He was starting to get to the point where he was basically worried sick about where the hell you were, since you hadn’t given any sign of life since you left.

He had call your mum and your dad and even your sister who lived back in England with her husband.

I mean he knew you were okay since he called Daniel about a dozen times and when the Australian finally pick up he cursed him with probably every cursed word in the book, and after Charles had apologized and begged Daniel told him that you were alright, that he had picked you up from the apartment you both shared but he didn’t say where you were staying despite Charles pleads, Daniel cursed him again telling him that when he picked you up you were made a mess.

“She said she couldn’t breathe and wouldn’t stop fucking crying, you’re a fucking jerk, she’s so awesome and you know she doesn’t deserves whatever you did to her, so you either fix it, or leave her alone” the words of the Australian driver still resounding in the back of his mind, shattering his heart as pictures in the back of his mind the mess he had made upon you.

“The number you have dialed it’s not available at this time, please try again lat…” the robotic voice replied in what Charles in what it seem now like it was mocking from the million times Charles had heard it in the last few hours.

He throw himself on the couch as he check the chat he maintained with you, checking to see if maybe by a miracle of higher power you had answered his texts.

But you hadn’t, not even read them.

So he rubs his faces and eyes as he felt his stomach sank further as he imagined all the possible scenarios you could be in right now, ana he knew he deserved each and every one of them, for not loving you the way you deserved, for not treating you the way you deserved and for not showing that in fact he did love you and need you more than anything in this world.

He was angry and disappointed at himself, and he had taken out on you completely ignoring you and pushing you away and now you had disappeared from the face of the planet earth.

At least that’s what he thought as he opened the TikTok app in an attempt to keep himself awake.

And lord did that work as the first video that popped up on his screen was one of you in a very tight black dress dancing in a booth of a very crowded club as you were being sprayed in champagne by Kelly Picket and some of your other friends.

His heart started beating faster than the f1 car he drove daily as he watched the video again, trying to convince himself that maybe it was an old video from someone’s birthday that you had maybe mentioned to him a while ago and he had forgotten, but all that convincing was for nothing as he took a glimpse of the video’s caption.

“Y/N Y/L in a club in Monaco earlier tonight, Charles Leclerc keeps winning”

Oh God, you were at a club?!

(…)

To say you were completely, totally and utterly wasted was the understatement of the century.

And you knew that as you downed yet another bottle of water as you tried to wash off the feeling of nausea that camped in the back of your throat, as you everything around you was spinning at a high speed.

You were sitting in the sidewalk outside of the bar back pressed against a stop sign as you prayed that the ill feeling would go away, you had drank an insanely amount of vodka, trying to numb the pain, to forget Charles’ careless words and to shut your on thoughts as they kept repeating in the back of your mind like the most sick ass mantra.

why?

why won’t you love me?

You shook your head trying to get those stupids thoughts out of your head and as the phone screen lit up for the first time in three days it started beeping and vibrating like something you had never seen before, thousands of texts and calls from Charles one showing after the other all of them being pleads and apologies and love you’s.

You felt her eyes getting watery as she read one by one the texts she had received from her boyfriend, so with shaky hands and tears you started texting.

You wanted to say so much, you wanted to say how much you had missed him, how much you’ve been missing the thing you both used to have, but you’re brain kinda typed for itself as a single text was send in the chat you shared with the pilot.

I am trying to forgive you, but I’m struggling cuz I don’t know how.

sat. 2:16 am

You blocked the phone scared of what the answer of your boyfriend could be, a girl standing beside you, a worried look painted on her face.

“You ok?”

You chucked softly as you nodded drying the tears that kept running trough your cheeks.

“Girl you’ve been crying your eyes out for the past five minutes I’ve been here, you’re not okay, you need a cigarette”

You laughed again as you grabbed the cigarette from her hand.

“So what happened?”

“My boyfriend’s a douche” was the only thing you stated as you took a hit off the cigarette, throwing her head back in an attempt to relax herself.

“Yeah but he loves you” the girl said as she smiled as she smoked her cigarette too.

“I guess” you murmured softly as you press your plans against your face trying to keep

yourself awake and to dry the tears.

“If you have to guess than it’s probably not there” the pressure on your chest started to build up.

“If you had asked me a month ago, I would’ve probably said yes, but right now I feel like I’m falling from something that we built way too high and believe me, it’s a long way down”

“If you’re telling me this, after a fight you just had, then my chick from the club advise is, talk to him, you’re saying all that from a place of anger and fear, fear of what’s coming next, and what he might say to you but we all say things we don’t mean when we fight, so talk to him” the girl brushed her hand against your shoulder as you sobbed into your hands.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore?” You asked as your voice broke a little, because she was right you were scared, scared of what he might say to you, of what might happen next, of everything.

“Well by the way your phone is beeping right now, he probably does, give him a chance.” She said as she pointed at the lit screen of your phone throwing her cigarette to the floor making her way back to the bar. “It’s better to regret about trying, than to regret of not trying at all, pick up, bye” she said goodbye as she entered the club once again with a small hand gesture.

So you made yourself look at the phone screen as Charles’ nickname “baby” adorned the screen surrounded with hearts and with all the bravery you had on your drunk self, you picked up.

“Mon amour, please let’s talk you— you know I love you I can— I can’t do this without you, please” the desperate pleads from Charles was the first thing that sounded, breaking your hearts as you head him uncontrollably sobbing waiting for your answer.

“Charles baby, calm down, please”

“I— I am so sorry, please let’s talk” he sobbed, you were now crying too, hating the current situation you both were in but you tried to compose yourself as you didn’t want Charles to get more agitated than he already was.

“I know, It’s okay, we’ll talk but can you come and pick me up? Please” you asked as a whisper basically, but you knew the answer before he spoke as the sound of keys clattering and a door opening before he spoke.

“I’ll be there in 10” Charles said before a comfortable silence filled up the line, you knew he hadn’t hanged up so when you were about to, he interrupted you as he dried the tears that fell through his cheeks. “I love you”

“See you, Charles” you muttered as you hung to start waiting for him in the empty street, texting your friends that you were leaving.

(…)

Charles didn’t lie when he said that he’d get there in 10 minutes, and you knew that the second you saw his Ferrari 488 pista spider across the street, all your friends cheering as you smiled towards them.

“Someone is getting makeup sex tonight!”

“Climb that man like a tree honey!”

Were some of the screams directed towards you as you gave them your goodbyes and the finger making your way to Charles car a surprise face showing up on you as the pilot got out the car, saying hi to you on a shyly manner as surrounded the car to open the passenger door just for you.

“For ma chérie” he said as he bowed for you to enter the car, making you giggle softly.

“Really, Charles?” You chuckled as you entered the car once again, him nodding.

“I just want to show you that I am, really sorry and that I shouldn’t have acted liked a dick” he said as he entered the car, putting his seatbelt on.

“We’ll you don’t really get to do that” you mumbled under your breath, as you took the hand he had placed on your tight back into his lap.

“But I am sorry, why won’t you let me show it to you?” He asked as he started driving back into your place, a serious expression planted on his face.

“Just like you didn’t let me show you how I love you back in our apartment? And plus how do I know this isn’t some kind of apology act? How do I know you won’t be back to your selfish and imbecile ways as soon we’re back to our apartment and I forgive you, how do I know you do love me?”

“I— I love you! I do!” He said as he stopped the car in a red light in the busy Monaco streets, the despair clear on his face eary eyes as he stared into you.

“That isn’t what you said just three days ago!” You fought back, because yes there wasn’t anything more in the world that you wanted than to fix things with Charles, but you were scared because you didn’t wanted to feel the way you felt last week locked in that miserable apartment taking all of Charles’ shitty attitudes, wondering what the fuck you had done wrong knowing there wasn’t any answer to that question, and wondering why your boyfriend won’t love you.

“And I didn’t mean any of it! I was angry and upset I know that I shouldn’t have said it and i am sorry” he argued back, but way more calmer than you, probably because he knew that you were drunk and if the both of you got upset and disturbed you’d probably won’t get to anything, and he didn’t want that, he wanted to fix things, to get you back, to go back to the thing you had before knowing that he was the one that wreck it, which destroyed him more.

“But how do I know that! How do I know you’re telling the truth!” You cried, making Charles’ stomach twirl inside of him, there was nothing that he hated more than to see you cry and he hated it even more knowing that he was the reason of it as he watched you visibly shake in the seat beside him, the alcohol in your system definitely not helping you as you started to feel the ferrari was getting smaller and the air was missing in you lungs.

He parked the car on the apartment parking lot as he got out of the car as fast as his feet allowed him to, surrounding the car to once again open the car door of your side but not for you to get out as he grabbed you by the legs turning around to face him as he crouched beside you, one of his hands grabbing you gently by the jaw, wanting for you to focus on him for a sec and not the awful thoughts he knew were filling your head by the second.

“Hey, hey, look at me, ok? Focus on me baby, c’mon” he called you out softly as he rubbed your tight in a sweetly manner in an attempt for you to steady your breath, you did as you were told wanting to calm down as well staring into his bright green eyes that somehow always gave you comfort.

“You know it’s true because…” he paused for a second trying to formulate what to say in his head as he smiled and continued. “Because I love with everything that i have, and I can’t even bare the thought of not having you in my life, because my chest hurts every time i even began to imagine a life without you by side, because this past few days without you in the house have been hell, because for i fact that can do this without and more importantly I don’t want to because baby the rest of the world doesn’t matter if I don’t have you, I want you and need you back because I don’t care about the fancy ass cars, and the parties and the championship because what’s the point of winning races if I don’t drink the celebratory champagne with you, because I love you, and you’re the only one I care and want me beside me, kissing as we celebrate and hugging after a crappy day and from now on there won’t be a day where I don’t show it to you I promise you that, and as well I’ll spend the fucking rest of the summer break proving to you that I am sorry for the way I treated you and how much I fucking mean it when I say I love you”

He wanted to say so much more, but he didn’t really had the chance to as you grabbed his face and kissed him.

Charles could swear he felt like he could breath again after those three miserable days as his lips touched yours, it was a sweet intimate kiss as your hand snaked to the back of his neck as the other grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie you wanting him to be as close as posible as he smiled into the kiss.

“I missed you” you finally admitted the confession that was stuck in the back of your throat since the moment you saw him arrive to the club making you both giggle.

“I missed so much too Mon Amour, all I’ve fucking done in these past days was be miserable as I thought bout you” you laughed into his lips as he began to leave a path of kisses through your jaw mumbling how much he had missed you in between the kisses.

“Couldn’t get you out my fucking head, it’s like you’re injected in me” he mumbled as you giggled softly once again, grabbing his face to kiss him again.

“I swear to god Leclerc, treat me or act the way you did again and I’ll cut your dick off” you threatened kind of jokingly making him join you in your soft laughter.

“Oh no chérie, that will not be happening again you have I promise you by my f1 driver honor” he said as he pressed one of his hands on his chest, by his heart like he was swearing in a court or something as the other snaked behind your knees as he grabbed you by surprise when suddenly he lifted you bridal style out of the car, making you squeal loudly as he closed the car door walking away from the Ferrari with you in his arms like it was nothing.

“That doesn’t even exist!” You chuckle as he got inside the elevator laughing too.

“It does!” He defended himself. “You’re just not a f1 driver so you don’t know about it amour”

You denied with your head still laughing as he smirked at you.

“How about we go back to our home baby, and you let me show you how sorry I am” he whispered, mouth pressed in your ear as you felt the skin in the back of your neck go cold and your lower abdomen flutter in anticipation

“Jummm, that does sound good Mr. Leclerc” you smiled at him, as you pressed your forehead with his as the elevator opened in your floor.

“Well let’s go baby” he said as he made his way on to your apartment.

So you both got into the apartment to the shower where Charles truly showed you how sorry he was he took off your dress and washed your body and hair leaving kisses in everything inch of it, to then wrapped you in a towel and brush your hair with you sitting in his lap.

Then you both basically pass out on the bed till the day after at 2pm.

Where he woke you up with the best breakfast you had eaten in a long time and two tickets for Portofino and all the bags already packed as he also showed you in some other ways how sorry he was.

THE END.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x oc #f1 oneshot #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x female character #f1 fic #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #f1 angst #f1 series #f1 imagine #ferrarri #ferrari 488 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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st4rg1rl-16 · 3 months

Text

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ twitter goes crazy after some youtubers sexualise the only f1’s female driver and the worst of it all is that she reads every tweet

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 4 april / 9 april

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ shanghai, china

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ charles and arabella being a little horny (again), mentions of virginity but nothing happens (yet) sexism, sexual objectification so basically men being trash (what a surprise!)

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ i suck at warnings anywhore! pain so soon? this is nothing! sadly, arabella is going to suffer a lot :(

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90 @wcnorris

• — need for speed’s masterlist

A COMFORTABLE silence hung over the room, without counting the sounds that the skin of their lips made when they collided with each other, their breaths and sighs or the distant song of birds. A bluish light from the dawn of a cloudy day painted the white walls of the hotel room. You could still see the moon thanks to the large window that was located on the other side of the room, in front of the bed in which both of them were tangled in each other. Although it was already April, it was still cold in Shanghai.

Her long, slender fingers curled into the short strands at the nape of his neck, giving a small tug earning a growl that he felt in his mouth as he caught her lower lip between his teeth. He separated from her, taking a few seconds to observe her and he could swear that there was nothing that could compare to what he felt in that moment when he saw her green eyes that were looking back at him lazily but intensely full of life, her brown locks piled up at the top around her head, her cheeks were red and her lips, oh her lips, her lips were red and swollen thanks to him. Because he had been the one who had left her like this, him and no one else. He watched as she rolled her eyes before he felt her grip tighten on his arm and how with the hand she had on his neck she pushed him even closer to his face to press their lips together again.

Their lips met again and neither of them could be happier. Charles's hands took on a life of their own as they began to roam over the girl's body as his life depended on it. He felt her skin crawl beneath his fingertips, his chest swelling with pride as she let out a breath into his mouth.

"Charles..." She sighed his name against his lips when his left hand passed over her hip and he smiled into the kiss. He raised her hand again very slowly until he brought it to her collarbone and where he gently caressed the skin of her neck before curling his hand around her throat. He pressed his body even closer –if it was possible– to hers.

His hand was big enough to cover her entire neck, he liked that. He moved his thumb caressing the edge of her jaw as he separated from her enough to break the kiss but not enough for their lips to stop touching.

"Tell me, ma belle" He murmured, because even though they were alone in the room it felt like a sin to speak out loud and break that intimate bubble that they had managed to create around them. Arabella's breath hitched in her chest as she saw his sly smile hang on his lips and she felt his grip on her throat tighten for a second "Tell me, what do you want?".

She mentally cursed not only herself but him as well. Her lips parted feeling the need to breathe harder and harder, she really felt like she was drowning. She looked into his eyes and then at his lips, she licked her own, managing to taste him. Charles almost looked away from her eyes when he felt her tongue lightly touch his lips but he held strong.

He tightened his grip, feeling her erratic pulse through her neck, and pushed his hand up, making her raise her chin. He insisted "Mmm?".

Fuck it.

She looked at him pleadingly and practically moaned "You. I want you”.

He analyzed her for a few painful seconds that to Arabella seemed like hours before he crashed his lips against hers. While they were kissing she felt him turning them on the mattress and a second later they were sitting, she on top of him.

The kiss was aggressive and fast but she still felt that he was trying not to hurt her, she smiled earning the grip his hand had moved down from her throat to her ass. She let out a moan and immediately wanted to hide under a rock when she saw him pull away from her but she calmed down when she realized it was to take her shirt off of her. She nodded when he gave her a look asking if it was okay, she thought that it was adorable so when the shirt went over her head she gave him a short kiss to which he smiled sweetly before bending down and starting a trail of kisses from her chin to her cheek and down the column of her throat.

She bit her lip not caring that they were swollen and beginning to sting due to her action, she closed her eyes throwing her head back leaving him more room to paint her neck with kisses.

She moaned again as she felt him suck and bite her delicate skin. She should have stopped him, she should have considered that it was not a good idea for him to mark her that way but she was drunk, too drunk from that sensation that she didn’t know how to explain nor that sensation that she didn’t even know how to name. She didn't care, she only cared about him. It was all him, she felt him throughout the room, in every pore of her skin.

Him, him, him. It was all him.

She was so immersed in that simple pleasure that she didn't even feel uncomfortable or insecure about being in a bra in front of a boy for the first time. It was strange, she really thought the first time was going to be a disaster but for the moment she was quite comfortable and she was quite enjoying it. Had she really missed this all these years?.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his chin brush against one of her breasts, his kisses had descended from her throat to the skin that covered her esophagus and were about to reach the beginning of her breasts. His hands had moved from her waist and bottom to her back, both hands large enough to cover almost her entire back. She felt one of his fingers caress the clasp of her bra.

“Can I take it off, mon ange?” She lowered her chin again and after looking into his eyes for a few seconds, she finally nodded. She didn't trust her voice at that moment, she didn't believe that anything other than moans, gasps or some sigh was going to come out of her throat.

She let his hands take hold of the hook of the black bra and soon she felt it peel away from her skin. Swallowing, she helped him take it off by passing both arms through the straps. She looked at it in the monegasque's hands and she scolded herself for not having chosen a prettier bra, not that that one was ugly but it was too simple. She shook her head slightly without Charles seeing her, that wasn't important now.

He threw the bra across the room, almost hitting a painting that it looked like it was expensive. He grimaced and she laughed lightly making him smile.

He looked at her, laughing and almost naked on top of him. The expensive painting that he almost broke couldn't compare to the work of art he had in front of him. A small sigh came from deep in his chest. He brushed aside a couple of unruly strands that had slipped past her shoulders and pushed them back, letting them join the rest of the long hair that covered her back. This caught the girl's attention, her laughter began to die, leaving behind a pretty but unremarkable smile.

She shifted a little uncomfortably under his gaze and he denied, caressing her waist, his other hand gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him again when she looked away from him. He looked at her with all the sincerity in the world "You're beautiful, mon ange."

"Really?" Her voice was almost not heard but he did, he would always hear her. He nodded, taking her hand and bringing it to his bare chest, placing it on top of his heart.

"Really" He caressed her face with the hand that was previously holding her waist "You're like an angel, the most beautiful thing anyone can see in their life".

She licked her lips and brought her free hand to his neck. She approached him and rested her forehead on his before closing her eyes "Kiss me, Charles."

And he, more than happy, obeyed. Their lips met for the thousandth time that morning, their tongues began to curl around each other until her lungs began to demand air, they reluctantly separated. Charles kissed her lips chastely before moving his lips to her cheek, down to her jaw and then to her neck as he had done before. After thinking about it for a second he took her hand to one of her breasts and began to caress it, testing the terrain.

Moans soon filled the room when his lips accompanied his hand, especially when he began to pay attention to her nipples. With his lips glued to her chest he looked up at her and he could swear he almost came right there. Her eyebrows had furrowed together, her eyes were closed in enjoyment and her mouth was slightly open while moans came non-stop from the depths of her throat.

Charles's pants were starting to feel pretty tight.

He separated his lips from her skin and flipped them over again, so he was on top of her again. The spanish girl complained when she felt the loss of contact to which he let out a small raspy laugh before placing his lips back to her chest although they didn't stay there as they began to move towards her stomach.

Arabella's eyes widened when she felt his hands get tangled in her pants and her panties. She sat up quickly making him stop and look at her confused.

She covered her face with both hands and let out a loud sigh, muttering curses in her native language. The monegasque frowned at her, crawling across the bed until he was in front of her. Once he was in front of her, he took one of her hands, forcing her to uncover her face, which was red with shame.

“Hey” He whispered when he got her to uncover completely and look at him, he looked at her worried “Have I done something wrong? Something that made you uncomfortable or...”

She was quick to interrupt him “No, no, no. The thing is...”

She bit her lip, uncomfortable with the situation. Charles raised an eyebrow at her, positioning himself more comfortably on her side. He looked at her expectantly, making her gaze nervously travel around the room, avoiding his eyes. She pressed her lips together making them disappear in a fine line when he took her hand and intertwined their fingers.

"It's okay, ma belle" He gave her a small smile "You can tell me if you want."

She took a breath and bit her lower lip again "It's just... I've never been with someone like��.that, I-I'm a virgin" She murmured her last words, trying to avoid them, but he managed to hear her.

He opened his mouth, surprised more than anything. It took him a while but he reacted, he began to caress the back of her hand with his thumb to calm her down.“Oh, okay. It's okay, nothing happens. We can go slow, I'm not in a hurry”.

He smiled at her when she finally looked at him. He knew that she was worried about what he would say or think, he could see it very clearly in her eyes but it was true that he didn't care too much about sex, he wasn't with her for that reason.

She covered her face again, letting out a sharp complaint "This is so embarrassing"

He laughed lightly, twisting his hands around her wrists to move them away from her face again, he pushed her making her back make contact with her mattress again. He soon lay down next to her and hugged her. They both looked at the ceiling in silence. Charles knew she was embarrassed –not just because she herself had just admitted it verbally– it was noticeable in the air of the room, in how it had changed. He let out a small sigh and began to caress her shoulder gently.

“After Azerbaijan the race is in your country, are you excited?” He changed the subject, wanting to distract her from her thoughts knowing that she was overthinking, it was something he had observed in her. Arabella had a hard time expressing her feelings out loud so everything was stuck in her mind and he knew that right now her head was in chaos.

He felt her shift against his chest, he tensed for a moment because she, like him, was still naked from the waist up and her could feel her breasts pressing against the skin of his own torso. He kissed her hair letting her get comfortable.

"I'm nervous" She admitted, tightening her grip around his torso. "I'd like my first victory to be at home”.

“Maybe you win here or in Azerbaijan” The girl's gaze traveled to the large window from which much of Shanghai could be seen. She was grateful for having accepted Charles' idea of traveling to the chinese city a week earlier.

She separated her chin from his chest and raised her head to look at him. He followed her with his gaze, tangling his fingers in the rebellious brown locks "And you, how do you feel? It's going to be your first home race in Ferrari”.

He grimaced “I just hope I don't eat the wall like two years ago.”

The girl opened her mouth remembering it “It was you! God, I didn't remember that”.

She remembered when she saw the boy's car hit the wall in the 2017 race in Monaco, they were both still in Formula Two. She still remembers seeing the car smashed against the wall as she drove past it, not much later she was named the winner of the race.

Who was going to tell her that the driver of that car was going to be her teammate and that they would both be half naked in bed? The world was really small.

“You won, right?” He looked at her with half-closed eyes and she nodded, laughing. He clicked his tongue “I remember I wanted to congratulate you but I never did.”

“Maybe thanks to that we are here today”.

He kissed her forehead “And I wouldn't change it for anything in the world.”

SHE frowned when she saw a tweet about how some YouTubers mentioned her, she moved her right thumb to the link and waited for the screen to take her to the YouTube video.

When the video's headline appeared on her screen, her brow furrowed even more. 'Moto2: Argentina Race, summary and our opinion' Her eyes traveled curiously across the screen observing every little detail, apparently they were a couple of spanish boys, one with hair dyed blue and the other brown, it seemed that they were not very far from her age, they had set up a channel in which they commented on Moto GP races and according to their number of subscribers, apparently they were doing quite well. She raised an eyebrow, sensing what the matter was going on.

She pressed play and the blue-haired boy began to speak “Bienvenidos otra vez a…”Welcome back to…

She rolled her eyes heavily before stopping the video and beginning to search through her comments for her name. She stopped a couple of times reading her last name but when reading the comments she could see that they were only talking about her brother, she bit her nail as she continued scrolling down through the comments. She finally started to find her name.

She moved the thin red line until the number 6:02 became present, she pressed the center of the screen again and quickly one of the boys' voice rang through the room. She was thankful that she was back in her room because she didn't know what to expect, much less how she was going to react, so she was thankful that Charles wasn't present.

“Oliver Torres was going very well until he had to go to the pits” Her ears perked up when she heard the name of her younger brother. The blue-haired boy nodded at his friend's words and turned in his chair.

“Yeah, he's really not having any luck this season” He lowered the hood of his head and looked at the camera “At least he doesn't have anyone giving him shit like his sister with Hamilton”.

The other snorted before laughing half-heartedly “Ah, yes, Arabella Torres.”

"He doesn't like her" His buddy laughed, hitting him on the arm, to which the other stretched out making a face.

“It's not that I dislike her, but I don't think it was a good idea to put her in Formula One” He shrugged his shoulders.

The blue haired one looked at him interested "Why?"

“I feel that the FIA accepted her just for being a woman, so that there is diversity. They have Hamilton and Torres, they already have the minimum diversity acceptable by society”.

“That's twisted but I wouldn't be surprised if it were true”.

“Hmm, I also don't like her because he's too narcissistic. She thinks she's the best but come on!, she hasn't won anything. She said she was going to beat Hamilton but she's done everything but win, it's no big deal. Her racing style is shit and I don't know, she isn’t that good”.

“But she is pretty”.

They both looked at each other for a few seconds in silence before starting to laugh. The brunette nodded "Yes, she's hot. Very hot, how old is she?”.

“Eighteen”.

“Ah, okay, then it's legal for me to say this” They laughed again as if it were the best joke in the world “She would be a good fuck, have you seen that ass?”.

“Yes but I'm more of a tits guy, you know.

“It's not that she lacks in that area” He put her hands in front of his chest and squeezed them making an obscene gesture “Some good pillows”.

“Do you think they are natural or she had surgery?”.

Disgusted, she ran out of the video. She dropped the phone and lost her gaze to some fixed point in the room. She suddenly felt disgusted with her body, as if she had the sudden need to cover herself as much as she could so as not to be seen.

How could they talk about her as if she were just a piece of meat with eyes? Was it only her chest and her ass that were important and not that she drove a car every weekend that went three hundred kilometers per hour with the possibility of die every time she sat on it? She pulled her sweatshirt down trying to cover herself as much as possible and lay down on the bed. She felt tears pool in her eyes as she crawled into the sheets. She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them, it didn't take her long to fall asleep through tears.

A couple of hours later, which was actually seconds for her, the noise of her phone indicating that someone was calling her. Her gaze traveled around the room, she felt disoriented not knowing what day or time it was. She could tell that at least it was still daylight thanks to the large window in front of her bed. She ran a hand over her face, feeling the roughness of her cheeks thanks to the tears that had dried on their way to her neck. She let out a sigh and immediately sat up, sitting on the bed. She groaned when she felt a sting in her skull, something that used to happen to her when she fell asleep while or after she cried.

Blindly, she moved her hand across the sheets to touch her phone, picked it up, and looked at the screen. The YouTube application was still open but there was no trace of the video, she looked at the time and breathed a sigh of relief, it was still early.

The phone was still ringing indicating that her brother was calling her.

She pressed the green button present at the top right corner of the phone and brought the device to his ear.

“¿Si?” Yes? She asked fearfully because the truth was that she almost never spoke with her brother, at least not on phone calls, but they did send each other the occasional message to congratulate each other when one of them took a trophy home or to ask about their parents in in case one couldn't talk to them but the other could. They both had a very busy life, him in Moto2 and her in Formula One, so it had been at least six or seven months since the last time they saw each other because it's not like they coincided too much, when one was on one side of the world the other was in the other. It was strange, but that was their relationship.

“I've seen the video” From the tone of her voice he knew that he was angry and the truth didn't surprise her. Since Oliver had entered his teenage years he had acquired some anger problems, of course she couldn't blame him because she was just like him except that when her little brother received some kind of comment or something he didn't like he was quite vocal about it while she decided to keep quiet and let her actions speak for her.

And now you cry like a little girl, her conscience scolded her.

"I'm going to kill them, who the hell do they think they are to talk about my sister like that?" She came back to reality when she heard his growl, behind his voice she could hear motorcycle engines roar. She assumed that he was training for his next race, she felt bad for him, she hoped that the issue would not affect her training.

“Oli, it's okay. Everything is okay” She tried to reassure him “They're just two assholes talking nonsense”.

“No, Bella. It's not okay” He shook her head even though his sister couldn't see him “Do you know what they're saying about you on Twitter? They are talking about your body as if it were theirs to comment on, it's disgusting”.

She saw how her free hand began to shake and she sighed again, she closed it into a fist trying to make the tremors stop. She suddenly felt guilty, guilty that her brother was having a hard time in that moment, he was only sixteen years old and he was witnessing his older sister being sexualized on the internet. It wasn't something a little boy should have to experience.

She heard a door close on the other side of the call “Arabella, I've read tweets where they say what they want to do to you. There are people who have gone to jail for less, it is very disgusting”.

“Fuck” She cursed out loud. She was thankful that her parents didn't have social media.

"Whatever you do, don't look at Twitter, okay?" He sounded like he was pleading from his tone but she knew he was actually trying to be nice and make her say yes but they both knew that as soon as the call was cut off she would run to the blue bird app. He pursed his lips, swallowing his words “I think mom told me that you are in China with your friends, go out with them and entertain yourself as much as you can. Forget it, okay? I'll tell Nick so he can do something”.

“Mmmh, yeah, okay” She nodded quickly, wanting to end the call. She sounded like a masochistic but she really wanted to see what they were talking about her.

“Please, Bells”.

"It's okay, I'm not going to look at it" She promised him. Her face was distorted into a grimace, her chest hurt when she breathed. I'm sorry to lie to you, little brother.

"Please, don't do it" The youngest Torres begged, knowing his sister. He knew that she was going to look at it and that she was going to mentally beat herself up about it, then she would smile in front of the world and say that she didn't give a shit to keep up the appearances. That was his sister, trying to seem strong in front of everyone when in reality she was just a scared girl.

"Goodbye, Oliver" She cut off the call before he could answer her. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen, moved her finger across it and exited YouTube, the home screen soon coming into view. She stared at the blue bird icon for a few seconds, biting the inside of her cheek.

Her gaze went to her hand, which was still shaking only more rapidly now. She wrinkled her nose regretting what she was going to do but still didn't stop her finger when it moved across the screen.

Her eyes moved frantically across the screen; people talking about how they wanted to fuck her, comments about how she was only in Formula One to be the sex doll for the other drivers, some sick bastards explaining with every detail what they would do to her in bed if she gave them the opportunity and, of course, lastly, a little few comments defending her.

She brought her hand to her mouth trying to suppress the sob she could tell she was fighting to get out of her.

You should have listened to your brother.

SHE FELT Lando's arm slide down her shoulders which woke her up from her trance, she looked at the briton finding his unique white smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone wasting concern despite the big smile that hung from his lips as he spoke.

"Yes" Sh nodded, passing her arm around his waist so that they could walk more comfortably, she looked at the backs of the others walking a couple of meters more in front of them before looking at the curly again "Why do you ask?”.

"It's just that you've been all morning like in another world, I don't know” He shrugged. His index finger traveled to the junction of his sunglasses to push them up through the bridge of his nose.

It had been three days since the twitter thing had happened and, although she couldn't stop thinking about it, she hadn't talked to anyone about it. She ignored her brother's calls and messages and apparently, fortunately or unfortunately, neither Charles nor any of the others had seen the tweets. The truth is that she thought she had been lucky because she preferred to enjoy her free time with the boys without feeling the clear discomfort that the fact that they read the tweets would bring, she knew that they would try to cheer her up and that they would try too hard that things would become uncomfortable.

She leaned her head against Lando's shoulder and a short time later she felt how he rested his chin on hers. They kept walking until they met the others, who had stood near a bar.

Pierre smiled ladily when he saw them hung together "Is there anything you want to tell us, guys?".

Immediately Daniel began to make noises to annoy them, forcing Max to follow him who resisted but ended up following him with laughter. The gaze of the youngest of the McLaren duo traveled to the Ferrari boy who didn’t look very happy, and moved slightly away from the girl.

Arabella rolled her eyes extending her arm to push the frenchman, simulating discomfort but the smile on her face betrayed her “Que pesado el Pedro” So annoying, Pedro (spanish version of Pierre).

Gasly frowned confusedly at the unknown language in which his friend had spoken to him while the other spaniard laughed loudly. He turned to his best friend, leaning over to murmur in his ear and that no one listened to him “What did she say?”.

The monegasque shrugged while still looking at his teammate laughing with her compatriot while they spoke in spanish. He smiled slightly happy to see her laugh again because these last few days he had noticed that her mood had changed, she was acting strange. He had decided not to mention it knowing that she had a hard time talking but he had set a deadline, tonight he was going to ask her if she was still acting like that. He was relieved to see her gradually becoming the Arabella he knew again. He felt his chest warm up when he saw her smile.

Merde, Charles. You're in too deep, huh?

"Well, let's eat" Norris raised his voice and made his way among his friends to enter the bar although he stopped his steps by turning around to look at the others. Everyone looked at him expectantly wondering what was wrong while he looked at them pursing his lips “Does anyone know Chinese?”.

The other curly haired laughed, hitting his hand against his shoulder as if he had said the funniest thing in the world while the dutchman rolled his eyes, passing between them to lead the group and, finally, go to the bar. He looked at the british “They also speak english, Lando”.

“Oh”.

Ricciardo's laughter got louder, he bent over holding his stomach “Ah, it hurts”.

Carlos looked at him entertained "Look how happy he is always, I want to be like him at his age”.

"Hey, I'm not much older than you." He quickly stopped laughing, put his back straight and looked at the male spaniard who smiled mockingly at him.

"But you're older”.

He opened his mouth to answer him but the hand of the only girl resting on Sainz's shoulder and pushing him towards the bar interrupted him.

"Come on, Carlitos" She kept pushing him, an equally mocking smile stuck to her lips "Don't bother grandpa anymore”.

"Oi!" The Australian exclaimed and both spaniards began to laugh.

Charles looked at them –at her, rather because he only looked at her– with a smile as he followed them from a little far away. His best friend made a noise calling his attention, he looked at him finding that he was already looking at him with a small smile on his face.

"What?" He asked confusedly at what the blue-eyed one laughed catching him in his arms, Leclerc complained when Gasly's arms surrounded his head.

"You like Arabella" He sang causing the younger to stop his movements, he looked at him alarmed but Pierre ignored him "It hurts me a little that you didn't tell me, you know being your best friend and all that but...”

“What are you talking about? I don't like her!” He exclaimed getting out of his grip. The frenchman analyzed him with his eyes, he was on the defensive mode, he definitely hid something.

"Yeah, of course" He took his phone out of the back pocket of his pants and put it on his face "Well, look, how together you can be seen here, holding hands and everything”.

Charles snatched his phone to be able to see the photo better.

"Merde” Shit.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Arabella was smiling at Verstappen who in a gentlemanly act was holding her chair to sit down.

She gave him a smile “Thank you, Maxie”.

The boy blushed, waving his hand like saying "it's nothing." Lando let out a sharp laugh when he saw the intimidating dutchman blushing.

“And you don’t hold the chains for the rest of us? So rude of you" Ricciardo complained to which the Red Bull driver raised his middle finger in his direction.

"I can hold something else for you if you want”.

Arabella laughed, taking her phone out of the bag that hung from her shoulder, which was ringing indicating that they were sending her messages. All the color left her face, leaving her as white as a paper sheet.

"Mierda” Shit.

229 notes · View notes

viennakarma · 5 months

Text

Everything I Wanted II.

LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 8.9k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.

I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.

Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.

During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.

Nobody noticed anything.

One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.

“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.

Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.

“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”

“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”

You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.

“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”

You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.

“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”

You took his advice to your heart.

You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.

The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.

That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.

When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.

“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.

“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.

Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.

“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.

“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.

“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”

You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.

And yet-

Somehow-

You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.

“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.

As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.

He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.

“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.

He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.

Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.

Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.

That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.

It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.

But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.

You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.

“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.

“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.

“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”

You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.

“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”

“No, uh, I haven’t.”

Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.

��It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.

There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.

“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.

As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.

“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”

“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.

“What are your plans for this competition?”

“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.

The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.

“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.

“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.

“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.

“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”

The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.

On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.

“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”

“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.

“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.

“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.

“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”

You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.

“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.

You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.

It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.

The rivalry never died down though.

Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.

“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”

“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”

“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.

The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.

That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.

The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.

In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.

You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and got into your left eye.

You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.

“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.

“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.

“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.

“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.

“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”

You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.

“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.

You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.

“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”

“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.

“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.

“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.

“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.

“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.

“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.

“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.

“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.

“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”

You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.

“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”

You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.

“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.

As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.

“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”

Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.

Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.

“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.

“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”

Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.

“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.

You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.

Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.

After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.

Thank you. Twice. - Lioness

The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.

After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.

Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.

You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.

Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.

The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.

“Y/N? What happened?”

“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.

“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.

“It’s mom”

“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.

Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.

In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.

You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.

Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.

“What happened?”

“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”

You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.

You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.

When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.

Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her.

Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.

You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.

The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.

In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.

You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.

“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”

“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”

“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.

“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”

The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.

“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.

“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.

“Damn, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.

“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.

“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.

You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.

You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.

Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.

Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”

You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.

The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.

You had to honor your mom in some way.

That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.

You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.

After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.

Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.

Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.

While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.

You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.

“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”

Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.

Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around.

“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.

“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.

Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.

“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.

“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”

“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.

“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.

“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.

“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.

After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.

My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.

She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders.

But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.

All the love, Y/N

Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.

You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.

With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.

You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.

You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.

Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.

“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.

“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.

You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.

“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.

“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.

“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”

“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”

“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“No trying. Do it.”

After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.

As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.

The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.

Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-

“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”

“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”

You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.

Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.

“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.

“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.

As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.

When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.

“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.

“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.

“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.

“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”

“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”

“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”

“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”

You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-

“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”

“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.

You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.

After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.

You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.

“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.

“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”

You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.

“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”

You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.

“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.

“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.

That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.

When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.

You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.

“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

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