#formula 1 female driver
Text
best years * fem!driver
growing up in a predominantly male environment, she only ever had two friends she could count on. this is what it was like growing up with oscar and logan.
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: -
notes: this was so hard to write for no reason
(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)
2013
she leans against the wall behind her, fingers nervously picking at the skin around her nails. she’s the only girl in yet another karting race.
around her are countless boys excitedly greeting their friends, some of whom they have not seen in months from the long break. they would only spare her a quick glance before forming their own circles and talking amongst themselves.
she simply sighs and fishes for her phone in her back pocket. she will just pretend to text blythe, who is all the way back home, hours from where she is.
sure, she had plenty of girl friends from karting when she was growing up. but amidst puberty and coming into their own, her friends had simply moved on to other hobbies and interests — one that didn’t involve pouring your heart and soul onto the race track.
so there she stands, all by herself in the corner.
she feels a presence next to her, prompting her to lift her head. there stands a boy with sandy brown hair and his arms folded over his chest. who she will come to later know as oscar. but not just yet.
beside him is another boy, bright blue eyes with dirty blonde hair. they’re engaged in a conversation, paying no mind to the girl sending several messages to her younger sister without a response.
“okay, gather up, please!”
she would wind up making it into the top 30 that race.
“hey, you made it into top 30!” her mother engulfs her in a tight hug and sways side by side. “i’m so proud of you! you did so well!”
“thank you,” she giggles, pulling back slightly to catch some air. her hand reaches around the older woman’s body to wipe the sweat from her top lip. “are we still getting pizza after this?”
her father laughs, throwing his head back. “you never forget a promise, kid.”
“of course!” she cheers, jumping up as she claps her hands. “can i get a hawaiian pizza?”
“absolutely,” her mother beams, squeezing her on the chin followed by another hug.
she sighs and throws her head back, appreciating the sun that barely burns her skin. she scratches her head and gathers up her hair to pull it into a ponytail.
looking around, she locks eyes with somebody — the same boy from earlier with the sandy brown hair. he’s got the most charming smile, sending it her way along with a thumbs up.
blood rushes to her cheeks as she returns him a thumbs up and a courteous nod.
then he turns away, whisked away by his parents.
2014
“you’re only saying that cause i beat you on the track again,” she answers nonchalantly with an eyeroll. she folds her arms over her chest, scanning the boy head to toe. “it’s okay to lose to girls sometimes. it’s rare, i know, yet here i am.”
“an absolute fluke,” the boy scoffs at her, cheeks red in frustration and fists clenched by his side. “my dad says there’s no space for girls on the racetrack.”
“oh, really? say that to my top 10 finish and you barely making the cut,” she spits, anger lacing every word. “loser.”
his jaw drops. “hey, take that back!”
“bite me,” she grins, “you loser.”
his arm is barely able to land a hit on her shoulder when he stumbles back, a bigger figure blocking her from the frustrated kid. she barely flinched, now shocked at the something that separated her from a minor injury.
“hey, piss off, will you?”
“whatever, dude.”
her saving grace turns around, a small welcoming smile on his face. it’s someone she recognises — slowly becoming a familiar face for her every time she’s on for a karting race. “are you alright?”
she huffs, her fists now clenched by her side. “i had that covered. i didn’t need your help.”
he gives her a tired stare, obviously not biting into her words to be edged towards an apology. he just smiles again. “i know, but i thought i’d end it before a fight happened.”
“what if that’s exactly what i wanted?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as her hands rests on her hips. “you don’t know that.”
“don’t bother,” he chuckles, glancing at the ground before lifting his head to look at her again. “‘grats on the top 10 finish today.”
she narrows her eyes down. “thank you.”
“oscar, by the way,” he says again, hand stretched out toward her.
“(y/n),” she nods at him with a forced smile. she drops both of their hands. “you’re tough to race, oscar. sometimes i just wanna crash into you with my kart.”
“i get that a lot, thank you,” he grins. he points behind her, prompting her to turn around. “the blonde over there’s my friend. that’s logan.”
she nods. “i’ve seen you guys together a couple of times.”
“we go to school together.” oscar pauses. “hey, logan! come over here!”
the blonde, logan, whirls around and jogs over to them without a question. he approaches them with a grin. “oh, hey! you’re the one that passed me earlier! you’re quick.”
“thank you, i like making boys cry.”
“i never said you made me cry.”
“you may as well have.”
“maybe next race if you can do it again.”
“oh, i’ll bet on that!” she grins, giving him a knowing stare.
logan smiles down at her. “we’re going to get pizza after this. do you want to join oscar and i?”
and the rest is history, as they say.
2015
"get off your homework, man," she groans, dragging her feet to where oscar sits on her table. she shakes the boy lightly, but not enough to mess up what he's writing, and pops her head to his side. "i'm itching to go get ice cream."
"let me finish my homework. my mum will kill me," oscar sighs, attempting to wave off the girl from him. "give me like 15 more minutes."
"you said that 1 hour ago," logan says, words muffled by the pillow he's got his face smushed up against. "i'm hungry, dude."
a knock lands on the door before it creaks open, turning the heads of two of three people who rest in her bedroom.
"dalton, dude!" logan grins, patting the empty spot on the bed next to him. "you're home! how was school?"
"i learned math today," the young boy excitedly answers, running over to the american with a giddy grin on his face. he jumps onto the bed, only to be promptly pulled away by his older sister.
"i told you to learn how to knock, dalton," she says in a tired voice. "and take off your shoes before coming into my room. remember?"
dalton looks up at her, wide eyes and lips parted as he tries to remember her words. he nods, bending down to tear off the velcro from his shoes. "i'm sorry, (y/n)."
"that's okay," she smiles, patting his head. "just don't do it again, okay?"
he nods, before hurriedly jumping onto the bed. this time, logan has the blankets up before engulfing the small kid under it with a bear hug. "what kind of math did you learn today?"
"addition," dalton mutters. he turns to look at oscar, who has yet to acknowledge his presence. "oscar."
"hi, dalton," he mutters, head resting in his palm as he focuses on the paper in front of him. "give me a minute, kid. i'll talk to you later, okay?"
"not okay," dalton huffs, arms folded over his chest. he leans into logan's knees and drops his head on the mattress. "i'm hungry, (y/n)."
she grins. "we've got to wait for oscar to finish his homework before we can go get food."
oscar sighs. he drops his pen on the table, turning around to face the room. "i guess i can take a break."
he gives her a knowing grin, rolling his eyes when she proudly smiles at him. he's always had a soft spot for dalton, the small boy filling up the sibling-shaped hole in his heart. "what do you feel like having, kid? ice cream?"
the young boy jumps on logan, prompting the loudest yelp to pass his lips. his arms wrap around dalton as they roll off the bed. logan launches him in the air and catches him immediately, a loud giggle bouncing off the walls of the girl's bedroom.
"i want spaghetti!" dalton cheers. "but you have to make it for us, oscar!"
oscar sighs again. he drops his head. "okay, i'll make some spaghetti."
2016
"happy birthday, (y/n)!" the door swings open, hitting the wall with a thud.
immediately, the girl shoots up from her bed, hair a mess with both of her eyes still closed. "man, what the fuck!"
she rubs her eyes, only to be met by the smug grins of her friends as they saunter into her bedroom with cake in logan's hands and two wrapped boxes in oscar's.
"we said happy birthday," logan says through gritted teeth, "say thank you."
"what time is it?" she groans, pulling the blanket up to her stomach. "isn't it a little too early for you to be terrorising me?"
"1pm is not early," oscar shakes his head in disappointment. "i texted you to be ready by 1! we're catching a movie, remember? we're supposed to go catch mockingjay in theatres."
she frowns. "i'm sorry. i went out with my girls last night," she explains, slowly moving to the edge of her bed. "i can be ready in 15 minutes."
logan holds the cake to her face. "enough yapping. the candle's about 5 seconds from merging with the cake i spent so hard to find," he sighs. "make a wish, scrub."
she looks up at them, daggers thrown just through her glare. she blows out the flame as her two friends cheer softly for her, oscar clapping before patting her shoulder. "okay, let's go catch our movie."
she holds her hands out to the boxes in his hands. "presents first."
2017
"hey, where are you?" oscar's face fills up her phone screen, eyebrows furrowed as he navigates the crowd in the mall. "are you not coming early for the race?"
she bites down on her lip and looks down, briefly avoiding oscar's stare. "i'll still be coming. just not so soon."
"what?" oscar's voice squeaks in disbelief, truly not believing what he's hearing from his friend. "but we always get ice cream before the race. why didn't you tell us you were ditching?"
"it was last minute, i'm sorry," she frowns, glancing at the boy standing next to her. "i'll just see you guys there."
oscar's face immediately drops. "oh, you're with your boyfriend?"
she rolls her eyes. "yes, but i'll still be there for the race. what's the big deal?"
oscar shrugs. "nothing, mate. i'll just see you on the track, (y/n)."
"hey, what is your problem?" she calls out, head tilting at his sudden coldness. "i've got other people to be with besides you and logan, you know. i have other friends too."
"friends, maybe i understand. but this guy?" he chuckles, rubbing his chin as he tries to sympathise with her. he really tries, but it's difficult when the older boy has made his best friend's life miserable in the past 3 months and she's done is defend him.
"mate, come on. be serious. he won't stick around forever - he's a guy."
"you're a guy."
"and i've never ditched you for a girl, have i?"
"i'd understand if you did."
"well, i'm not flakey," oscar spits at her, glaring at her through the camera on his phone. "i'll see you later."
his face disappears, the home screen of her phone now the only thing staring at her with the silence in her living room. she sighs and drops her phone onto the couch next to her.
"you alright, babe?"
she nods weakly, but her heart races in her chest. she's always been very headstrong and stubborn with oscar, but this was the first time he's ever shown a sign of frustration with her.
as deadpan as he usually is, her chest weighs down on the implication this young relationship could have on a friendship that's been going on for years.
"yeah, i'm fine."
"it sucks, i know," logan sighs, patting her head. he's leaned back against the wall, sitting up as she cried into his chest. "we're only 16 - this won't be the last guy you'll be with."
this only made the girl cry harder into his chest. truthfully, he's got no idea what to do. comforting crying people has never been his forte; being more on the sensitive end himself.
"i'll beat him up, though, if you'd like," logan offers lightheartedly. this is progress, at least, cause it made her giggle for a second before she resumed her sobs. "i can take him in a fight."
"don't do that," she laughs through her tears, "yet."
"i'll even take oscar with me."
"no... oscar's mad at me."
"he's not mad at you, (y/n)."
"but i told you that fucker was no good," an australian accent falls upon the room, making her lift her tear-stained face up to look at him. "i hate to be the one to say that to you."
"fuck off," she sobs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "i already feel like shit."
oscar nods, but he does sit on her other side. sandwiched by the two guys, oscar just fishes for something from his bag. presented to them, three separate pints of ice cream with spoons.
she smiles, passing down the other pint to logan. but she doesn't say anything to the australian who's already opened up his share and has started eating.
she just presses her back to the wall behind her and looks ahead. she digs her spoon into the dessert. "i saw logan with a girl in the hallway the other day."
"hey, what the hell!"
2018
she holds up her phone, grinning to herself as she takes a video. she runs over to the boy zipping up his race suit. "oh, my god! it's logan sargeant, sir! can i have a couple seconds of your time for an interview?"
"(y/n), you made it!" he laughs, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. "oscar should be around here somewhere."
"i wouldn't miss your first race, of course," she states matter-of-factly with an eye roll. she squeezes his side and leans in as he presses his lips to her cheek. she puts her phone into her pocket. "i'm always your biggest fan."
"you're the president of my fan club, right?" his eyes light up, teasing her as he rests his arm on her shoulder. "i wouldn't accept my fan club if it wasn't you running it."
she shrugs. "maybe, but i'm gonna need you to set me up on a date with max fewtrell."
"i thought you wanted to go out with charles leclerc?"
"he's got a girlfriend."
"i think max has got a girlfriend too," logan chuckles, simply amused by her presence. "tough luck, dude."
"man, i might just die an old maid," she drops her head with a frown.
"oi, what are you doing? the race is about to start," oscar scolds, hands held out as he scolds his friends. he looks at her, eyeing her up and down once more. "you're not dressed yet! it's your first race in a car. let's go, mate!"
"i didn't wanna seem so excited," she shrugs, "i don't know."
"well, there won't be a race if you're not dressed in your race suit, idiot," oscar scolds, pushing her towards the further end of the garages. "come on, i have to beat you again today. my race won't be complete if i don't."
"absolute bitch," she mutters, glaring at the two boys as she walks away. "i'll see you guys on the track - remember to look in your rearview mirror for me."
2019
the three sit in a circle, on her carpeted floor once more. "i'm sorry you didn't get a seat in f3, (y/n)," logan sighs, dropping his head in disappointment. "i can't believe it."
"it's okay." she leans back on her bed and sighs, dropping her head as well. she lifts it up again with a forced smile. "i'll watch you guys all the time, i swear. i'll be your biggest fan."
oscar shakes his head. "you'll get a seat. the season hasn't started yet - someone will pick you up."
she frowns, putting her hand on oscar's knee. "it's okay, oscar," she says softly.
how touching is it to have friends who care about your progression in a sport where you're meant to be selfish?
"you deserve a seat more than anyone i know," he sighs, pulling his legs up into his chest. he rests his chin on his knee. "it's not fair. they're overlooking you. you're so good on the track."
"not better than you, though," she jokes.
he looks at her from the side of his eye. his disappointment never leaves, "you could wind up being better than me. come on."
"there's not a lot of space for girls like me in a sport like this," she smiles slightly, squeezing his knee. "it's okay. i'll be at every single race cheering for both of you. i promise."
oscar furrows his eyebrows, still shaking his head. he's got 3 sisters - he'd be bummed if they were to pour their heart and soul into something and not have the same opportunities.
if he could, he'd simply flip the world upside down.
"don't give up, okay?" he moves his head, now cheek on his chin as he looks at the girl with hopeful eyes. "promise me - you'll be in an f1 car someday with us on tv. racing it out in the pinnacle of motorsport."
"obviously," she grins. "i won't ever let logan beat me."
"now, this is why you didn't get a seat, dude," logan jokes, exchanging a smack on the knee with the girl. "fix your attitude."
"i bet you're glad that i didn't get a seat - i'd beat you over and over in an f3 track."
"you'd have to get a seat to prove that, (y/n)."
2020
"i got you the seat!" oscar jumps onto her bed, grinning ear to ear. he squeezes the girl on her laptop, her head craned slightly to look at him. "you're going to be in formula 3!"
"what did you say?"
"you're going to be racing in formula 3 for the 2020 season, you idiot!" he screams, taking the laptop from her thighs. he closes it gently and puts it down on the ground. "dude, catch up faster!"
her eyes widen as the gears in her head slowly process what the australian has just bestowed upon her ears. her nose scrunched as a piercing scream slowly erupts from her mouth.
she stands on her knees on her bed, holding oscar's arms. "if this is a prank, i'm going to turn you into pastry!"
"it's not, i got you the seat in formula 3!" he screams, shaking her vigorously, jumping on her bed. "dude, you're a step closer to formula 1! i told you to never give up!"
"what do you mean, i never stopped racing!" she says amidst her screams, shaking oscar back as the adrenaline starts to pump through her veins. "i cannot believe it! i'm going to be in a formula 3 car!"
"yeah!" oscar jumps off his bed. "come on, let's go get drinks with logan! he's coming over with a couple of beers!"
she hops off the bed, her body going into his. they stumble back a couple of steps, oscar's back hitting the door with a thud. "dude, we can't just celebrate with a couple of beers. let's go to the club!" she shrieks, smacking his chest.
oscar tilts his head, lips pressed together. "are you sure? you're kind of uncontrollable in the club..."
"yeah, but i have the right to be tonight!" she rolls her eyes, "i just got promoted to formula 3!"
2021
"this formula 2 crap is easy," she mutters, taking her helmet off her head. she trudges towards the two in the red race suits, her balaclava also flinging off her head. "come on, oscar."
"oh, shut up," oscar laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "good job beating me for the first time."
"i made it my life's mission, actually," she whispers, dropping her head. she smiles, throwing her head back to look up at her two friends. "god, this feels amazing!"
"oh, i owe you 50, don't i?" logan frowns at oscar, hands on his hips. "i can't believe she beat you before the season ended. you growin' soft, piastri?"
"i just thought i should let her have one glimpse at beating me before i proceed to do it the rest of our lives," oscar snorts with a smug grin as he looks down at her. "feel it while you can, (y/n)."
she frowns up at him. "i'll beat you for real someday, pastry. i've done it once today, and i'll do it again."
he nods with a proud smile. "don't let that fire go out, dude."
2022
"oh, hold the front door!" she screams into the phone, turning around to smack oscar's shoulder. oscar, who was sitting quietly on her dining table, eating the spaghetti he's prepared for her household. "are you joking, mate?"
logan tilts his head at oscar, only receiving a similarly confused shrug from the australian boy. they both glance at her, confused, at her sudden scream amidst their dinner debrief after having not seen each other for a couple of weeks.
"there's no way! sebastian vettel said that about me?" she screams, smacking oscar's shoulder again.
"oh, you're kidding!" oscar grunts, smacking her hand from his shoulder. she doesn't react towards him, just jumps away to her living room with the phone still on her ear.
"you reckon she's scored a dinner with sebastian vettel with that reaction?" logan teases softly, pointing at the girl rambling away on the phone. "i've got my money on that."
oscar shakes his head. "maybe lewis hamilton through sebastian vettel."
they hear her heavy footsteps approaching the dining area. she simply drops her phone to the smaller table next to her, coming in slightly paler than they'd last seen of her a few seconds prior.
her lips slowly creep and spread into a grin. "i've been promoted to formula 1," she says breathily, her hand coming up to rest on the door frame behind her. she takes another deep breath. "sebastian's going to be race engineer in the 2023 season."
and all hell broke loose in the dining area that night.
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology
#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#oscar piastri x you#logan sargeant x you#f1 x reader#f1#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1#f1 fem!driver#female driver#formula 1 female driver#formula 1 fem!driver#formula 1 fanfiction#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HE’S SO PRETTY WHEN HE GOES DOWN ON ME ( charles leclerc. )
charles leclerc x reader
charles goes down on her and she can't help but admire his pretty eyes staring back at her.
warnings: smut, mostly google translate french (highschool does NOT teach us how to talk dirty okay, bare with me)
author note: as much as I would've wanted to write this for lando, it HAS to be charles, and I feel like this is so different from my usual thought and emotion heavy writing! incoming charles obsession??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT...
HIS GREEN EYES MIMICKED THE SHIMMER OF PALE EMERALD. sunlight peeked through the curtains, though in a few hours time, it would fall from its peak in the sky and the room would eventually begin to darken.
his biceps filled out the sleeves of his freshly-washed blue shirt, straight from the load of laundry she had done hours ago. veins like lightning under his tanned flesh to suggest his touch was rough, yet his callused hands were so gentle against her skin.
goosebumps crept across her body with every graze of his body on hers, every small breath against her ear as he mumbled something dirty to her in french. though she didn't know exactly what, she could pick up on the cognates between languages.
he tasted faintly of chapstick, her chapstick, that transferred from her lips to his as he couldn't keep off of her. with lips as swollen and pink as hers, he graced nearly every part of her body with his kiss. she was his oxygen and he was deprived.
but it was hard for him to ever be deprived, considering how even when they weren't in such a position, he was glued to her, hands grasping or resting at her sides and his breath down her neck.
when he'd reluctantly part from her sweet-tasting lips, his veined hand would snake down from the long strands of her hair in his palm, coming to rest on her jaw. prominent veins in his arms would indicate force was used to push her head up to expose the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, yet his touch was tender.
still, he felt her gulp under his palm.
light trails of saliva from his kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and neck, leaving red marks of irritated skin that would later bruise.
he knew she wouldn't be able to cover it up. he nipped at her skin with the purpose of showing it off, and she could get him to stop if she really wanted. but she didn't want that.
the hand on her neck reminding her of the easy power he had over her, and how she loved the gentle dominance he displayed.
because it hadn't taken much convincing earlier to get her into their bedroom. despite it being midday, he wanted to take care of her, in more ways than one.
she didn't object, she wouldn't when he looked at her with those damn eyes. his strength and her weakness.
now laid on her back with his body looming over her, his knee between her legs to put pressure just enough, but still not satisfying the desperate need to have him. and yet they had both managed to stay clothed all up untill this moment.
kissing up the staircase, his hands grasped at her waist, hoisting her into his arms, and gotten them to where they were now.
the tension had been building with every step he took, his pretty eyes watching her squirm, though he was the one to be so eager to please her. he couldn't give a shit about himself.
disheveled hair and tired, green eyes while his greedy hands roamed down her clothes, grasping at the skin of her thighs. still, he took his time as he usually did with his hands over her body, memorizing every dip in her skin.
fingers teasing under the edge of her white laced tank, bumps rising on her stomach as the material rode up her torso. he watched her nipples harden through her top, feeling his sweatpants getting tighter as he watched her subtle reactions. subtle reactions that gave him more than a little confidence in his attempts to please her.
because if he didn't then what was his purpose of living if not to please her?
his eyes remained on her the entire time, even if hers didn't meet his. she felt the burning sensation of his gaze over her heated skin. desperation for him between her thighs became increasingly unbearable, she wanted him. she needed him.
but he always took his time. it was agonizing, but she always came hard because of it.
from teasing her barely exposed skin to massaging into her ribs, he watched her expression every step of the way. it was slow, as per usual, agonizing.
his hands finally found her breasts, gently squeezing the flesh in his palms while he circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, exerting small noises from her.
removing one hand momentarily, he pulled down the lace of her tank, leaving messy kisses down from her collarbone to her other breast. but he didn't give her that little satisfaction, not yet.
“shhhh, patience, mon amour,” he spoke with a rasp in his voice, muffled slightly as she felt the vibrations of his voice against the flesh of her breast.
fixing her top with his other hand still teasing her chest, his hand caressed her waist under her small shorts.
trailing down the joint of her hip, his fingers traveled slowly down to and along her inner thigh before dipping under the fabric of her shorts. he played with her panties, pulling the hem away from her slick cunt. she whined at the contact of air to her core.
he bit his lip at the sight of her, fuck she was gorgeous lying before him and so desperate for a simple touch of his hand.
his knuckles brushed over the wet patch - that he caused- on her underwear and she inhaled a sharp gasp. he tsk’d at her reaction, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.
“tu es une petite chose désespérée,” (you are a desperate little thing). he chuckled breathlessly, eyeing her body squirm at such simple actions from him, “très sensible…” (very sensitive).
he teased her with words she could only guess the meaning of, pulling the hem of her panties back only to release it from between his fingers to slap back onto her skin. the sound filled the silence of the room and she flinched slightly at the feeling.
though she didn't have much time to react in any other way when his two fingers ran up her wet cunt, her folds rubbing against the soft cotton of her soaked panties. he teased her clit, rubbing circles with his thumb in an agonizing pace.
biting her lip and grasping at the pillows above her head, she clenched her thighs around his hand, trapping his fingers out of desperacy to feel more.
he only chuckled at her need, her attempt for a sliver of control. because he knew she had none.
he still managed to slip his hands away from her core despite her desperacy to keep him close and use him, which he didn't mind, but he preferred to have control. the warm hand from her chest emerging from the bottom of her lace tank to pry her legs apart, which didn't take much force from him. though she whined at the lack of contact.
hands placed on her knees, sliding his callused hands down the front of her thighs to rest at the point on her waist the top of her shorts rested. firmly grasping handfuls of the flesh of her hips, he tugged her body sharply against his.
unfortunately for her, his hands left her side - which she objected to - for merely five seconds to slip his blue shirt from his torso.
“calme,” (quiet) his tone was firm, yet a smirk etched its way onto his face as he saw the way her face changed as his toned torso was now in full view for her to marble at.
he let her as her fingertips barely reached his skin. she returned the smirk as she saw the rising goosebumps from the sensation of her nails down his abs before reaching where his v-line was interrupted by the tops of his sweatpants.
he shook his head at her actions, catching her wrists with both his hands and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “it's your turn now, belle,” his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear. fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank as he waited for her permission.
instead of giving it to him, she’d rather try to turn the teasing back on him, but unlike her, he loved the show she gave as she peeled her top from her body slowly.
on contact with the cold air, her nipples hardened again and charles could swear he salivated at the sight of her bare chest, as if he hadn't seen it plenty of times in the past.
“tu es trop jolie pour moi, ma chérie,” (you are too pretty for me, my dear) he muttered under his breath, hands full of her breasts as he couldn't resist himself.
okay, maybe her slow strip-tease did work on him a little bit. a little too well because now he wanted to see all of her.
shuffling his way till he stood at the foot of the bed, hastily slipping off his sweatpants without breaking his gaze on her body. the rise and fall of her bare chest, her hands returned to their spot on the pillows, her legs now crossed and hips moving to find friction against the cotton of her clothes to give her something to go off of. biting her lip as she tried, all while he watched.
the sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor as he disregarded them across the room, his attention on her never faltering as she watched him crawl across the bed back to her.
his toned shoulders and biceps, veiny forearms and hands, eyes locked on hers, disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. the heat of his gaze made her squirm as he crawled back up to her, bodies pressed together as his head once again dipped into the crevice of her neck.
kissing down her body, he went further, and further, and further till he stopped at her stomach, hands on her hips to her thighs to unknot them just enough. hands back to her hips to lift her just slightly and with his fingers around the hem of her shorts and panties, slowly slid them down.
he's so pretty when he goes down on her, green eyes watching as he dipped lower, and lower, and lower. gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry now across the room.
his warm breath against her stomach as he watched her carefully, analyzing every little movement and subtle reaction. every brow crease, mouth twitched, nose flare, every swallow and gulp that traveled down her throat, small fly-aways from her hair starting to matte down to her skin.
biting her lip as he lowered down her body, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs. close enough to feel his breath against her thighs, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her.
anticipation building in her stomach, hips rolling to close the gap from his face to her cunt, but his hands holding her down firmly stopped her. a whine in desperation slipping past her lips, pushing her head further back into the pillow in anguish.
“regarde-moi, chérie.” (look at me, darling) he spoke so sweetly, yet so tauntingly, like he'd never give in to what she wanted if she didn't do what he needed her to.
“charles, please…” she begged because she wasn't entirely paying attention to what he was asking of her, especially when he spoke another language. she didn't have time for translation.
he shook his head, pressing his face into her inner thigh as he chuckled at her tone, so needy and only for him.
“look at me, amour,” he repeated in english after kissing her thigh.
now propped up on her forearms, watching her beloved monégasque boyfriend looking back at her with a smug smirk on his face.
she scowled back at his expression, opening to make a snarky comment about it. her jaw hung open after he finally closed the gap after waiting too long, his tongue licking a single stripe up her cunt.
she rolled her eyes in annoyance, falling back down into her pillows as she groaned in annoyance, “fuck you, charles.”
“i’m sure you'd love to, darling,” he teased before tasting her again, humming into her cunt which incited a hand through his hair, pushing him closer and a whine to slip past her lips.
when he'd done enough teasing for his own enjoyment, he indulged further into her core. his hands snaking around to the crevice where her thigh met her hip to pull her further into him.
squeaked moans barely making it out of her mouth as he worked away at her clit, her hand in his dark hair to push him closer in fear he would stop.
nips at her folds and whines whenever he would do so, tugging a little harder on his hair causing groans from him. vibrations of his groans through her clit, stimulating her more and more.
legs trembling as her thighs clamped tightly around him, and he didn't dare stop her. he was in heaven. she was sweet, perfect in contrast to her bitter attitude only seconds ago. he nearly broke eye contact when he was first reminded of how she tasted.
caressing her hips, he refused to part with her cunt, his lips coated with her slick as he heard the pattern of her moans falter.
she was so easy to tie in knots, and so easy to untangle too, shuddering harshly as she barely let out a moan. tugging tighter at his hair, pulling him closer as if he would leave her unsatisfied as she came undone on his tongue.
he didn't stop after the first, or the second. it wasn't until she was close to her third that he even considered a break. after the second, his pace slowed to small movements from his tongue, lightly teasing her now sensitive clit.
soft tears ran down her cheeks at the overstimulation between her legs, but she didn't stop him. it felt too damn good.
the third came the slowest, but hardest as he managed to coax it out of her patiently.
by the time he had pulled away, his hair was even more messy than before, her slick covered his lips and chin, his tongue licking away the remnants of her on his face. his shoulder slightly red at her barely clawing away at his skin.
by the time he had pulled away, tears streamed down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, her arched back dropping down the sheets, and her hands that were previously in his hair now gripped tightly at the pillows by her head. her eyes, hazy and tired, her chest rising and falling with hastened breaths as he crawled up to her, running a hand through her equally-matched messy hair and wiping stray tears that he caused, even though he knew it wasn't a bad thing.
without a word, he got up, leaving to slip into their bathroom. she heard the faucet run from her position on the bed and she rolled to the edge, peeking at his actions.
she knew he would take tender care of her, no different to how he did so every time.
—
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x you#cl16 fluff#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#cl16 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles x reader#charles smut#f1#f1 x you#charles x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
🛏 Too Many Beds
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Summary: Lando had a master plan to get you in his bed. Too bad everyone seems to mess it up. And who knew you were terrified of bed bugs?
this was so much fun to write and I'm so excited for this mini series! New upload schedule will probably be Reputations on Friday and Reverse Tropes on Saturday!
TAG LIST CLOSED
Your hand gripped your suitcase as you stood in the lobby of the hotel. Of course, McLaren thought that it would be a good idea for some more team bonding before the season started and book an entire hotel. However, they forgot to mention that some of the people had to share rooms.
How you got placed with Lando, you didn’t know. You had seen Oscar snickering earlier when Zac had read the list of who shared what room. Your face was beat red as you tried to hide in your team zip up. Your eyes flickered to Lando, only to find him fast asleep against the window of the bus. There was some drool on his lip, and anyone else would have found that semi-disgusting.
But not you.
It was kind of…endearing.
But now that you were getting your key card and were in the elevator with a very sleepy Lando, your heartrate increased. You had tried to get your own room when you had gotten there, but Zac was intent with you sharing.
Something about driver and engineer comradery.
The floor before when Oscar got off, he had leaned over and whispered, “Have fun with the one bed.”
That statement made your face even redder. Of course that would happen to you. It was straight out of Tumblr or Wattpad. The one trope that you seemed to hate over everything. One bed normally meant that it was a single or a queen. And you were known for flopping everywhere.
Poor Lando probably wouldn’t get to sleep before the first rounds of development.
Although he was sleepy, Lando, on the other hand, was vibrating with excitement.
He had the whole thing planned out. He had requested to be put in a room with you. And then he swapped rooms with Oscar, because the Aussie had a girlfriend, ergo he had a single bed room. It was going to be perfect. Oscar would get the room with two beds, and Lando would just have to share a bed with you.
The Briton had had heart eyes for you ever since you joined his rookie season in 2019. And when you had been promoted to his race engineer, the crush he had grew tenfold. He could see your face getting more red the longer it took to get to the room.
“You ready?” he asked you before he used his card to unlock the door.
“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, just wanting to sleep. At this point, you were planning to go to bed right away so that you didn’t have to deal with Lando crawling into bed behind you. You’d be asleep at that point, giving yourself no time to ogle at his chest (if he slept with a shirt off as most guys did.)
The click of the lock indicated that the door could be opened and Lando took the initiative. This was it.
Lando was going to live his dream.
Except, his heart dropped when he noticed that there wasn’t one bed.
There wasn’t even two beds.
The room had three beds.
What. the. actual. fu....
Lando was going to kill whoever messed this up. His heart dropped farther when he saw your eyes kind of light up at the sight of beds to choose from. The McLaren driver bit his lip as he assessed the problem.
You missed Lando’s agitation and put your things on the bed by the window. You turned to Lando, now confused at his pinched eyebrows.
“Did you want the one by the window?” you asked, suddenly mad at yourself for just going ahead without asking the driver his preference.
Lando immediately shook his head. “I like sleeping by the bathroom.”
You gave him a smile. “Ok. Can I shower real fast? I go to sleep a little early.”
That was a lie. You just didn’t want to be awake when Lando went to bed. Who knows what you’d be staring at. Your mind immediately went to the abs and v-line. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the unholy thoughts.
You quickly opened your suitcase, grabbed your pajamas, and disappeared behind the bathroom door.
Once Lando was sure that you wouldn’t come out, he quickly pulled out his phone and texted Oscar. It was to his horror that Oscar had sent a picture of the singular king that was supposed to hold you and Lando in tonight.
Except that now it would be for Oscar and Oscar only.
The Briton wanted to rip his hair out. He started pacing before he knew it.
How could he fix this?
He could lie and say he had separation anxiety and needed to sleep with someone. But you’d see right through and ask who else he’d shared a bed with.
He could spill a drink on your bed? That also wouldn’t work because then you’d question why he had a drink around your things while you were in the shower. Lando didn’t want to come off as a giant creep.
He was still pacing when he heard the door open up.
His body turned to face you, but he immediately averted his eyes. Not because you were undressed, but because your pajamas were the cutest thing on you. You were wearing one of those silk tank tops with the smallest shorts possible.
Lando watched as your feet got closer to your bed. His thoughts were flying around at 100 miles an hour. He had to do something quickly. Your hand pulled back the bedding when Lando yelled.
“Hold on. I think I saw some bugs on my bed and yours.”
The screech that you let out made Lando wince. You reeled back as though the duvet had burnt you. You quickly made your way closer to Lando.
“Where are the bed bugs?”
Lando couldn’t really tell, but he thinks he can hear your teeth chattering. You were getting antsy.
“Are you that scared of some small bugs?”
You crept closer to Lando.
“My childhood house got infected and we had to move. I also got such a bad infection from bites.”
Lando immediately felt terrible. He didn’t know. If he had, he wouldn’t have said anything and just sucked it up and slept in his own bed. He looked at you. He could see that you were close to tears. His arm immediately went around your shoulders and brought you closer.
You huffed. “Can we go down to see if they have any other rooms on our floor?”
The brunet nodded. He looked you up and down before he turned around and dug through his suitcase. You wondered what he was doing before a hoodie hit your chest. It was the dark green one that you absolutely loved on him. You gave him a confused look.
“Ah, your pajamas.”
Oh.
You looked down and realized that you were just in a very thin tank.
Without a bra.
And the room was cold.
Your face flushed as you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head. The ends of the hoodie landed mid-thigh. You knew Lando was taller than you, but you didn’t expect his hoodie to fall that far down.
Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you and you giggled and did a little spin, showing off how the green material looked on you.
You were so worried that you’d have a staring problem, that you completely missed Lando’s staring problems.
Once you were done, you headed to the doorway, Lando hot on your feet. He should have felt guilty about lying, but you were in his clothes and that made every feeling go away. The elevator ride was quiet, but comforting instead of awkward. The ding of the machine signaled that you two made it to the ground floor.
Lando stepped out first, followed by you. Before you got to the front desk, Lando pulled the back of the hoodie, making you halt. You gave him a confused look. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed you his card.
“I know you’re a bit scared of the bugs, so I’ll handle it. You want to get us some snacks?”
Lando melted at your eyes lighting up as you nodded. You wordlessly took his card and spun around, now walking in the direction of the little shop. He knew that you were always picky with snacks, so he’d have a bit of time.
He exhaled heavily as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist cocked an eyebrow, probably not expecting anyone at this late hour.
His hands rested on the counter.
“So, me and a friend are staying in room 444, and I might have seen a few bed bugs on one of the beds.”
Lando winced as he lied. The lady’s eyes widened and she started typing.
“Ok, we’ll have someone come up and inspect it with one of our bug-dogs.”
Another wince. “Is that really necessary? Can we just move rooms?”
Some more typing. “I don’t think that’s possible sir. We have to inspect the room just in case. If it’s all clear, then the room will still be able to be slept in.”
Lando looked around before leaning in slightly.
“Ok, here’s the deal. I’m in love with the friend that I’m staying with. We were supposed to have a room with a single bed so I could make a move. But something happened and we got placed in a room with three beds instead of one. I panicked and lied about the bugs. Is there any way I can just switch rooms? I'll pay extra.”
Lando had hope in his eyes as he heard more typing.
“I’m sorry sir, but there aren’t any more rooms available for tonight. You’ll have to stay in the room you have.”
He hung his head as he nodded.
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered. When he turned around, he was met with you holding multiple snacks and some drinks. He hoped that you hadn’t heard anything. Thankfully, you didn’t mention his conversation.
As you walked into the elevator you asked, “So do we get to move rooms?”
Lando sighed. “There aren’t any available.”
You chewed on your lip. “Maybe, we can look at the middle bed and see if there are any there?”
He could kiss you right then and there. Lando went quiet for a minute.
“Only if that’s ok with you?”
You immediately nodded.
“I just don’t want any bugs on me. I think you’ll be able to keep me safe.”
The attempt at the wink that followed made Lando laugh as he got off the elevator. You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed him. Lando thought it was the cutest thing he ever heard. When you stepped into the room, you first headed to your luggage to pull it off the “bug infested” bed.
You placed it high on one of the dressers. Lando followed in suit.
Before you knew it, you and Lando were both under the covers of the middle bed after a full inspection that it was safe.
Lando was a bit skeptical that you hadn’t pushed to inspect the bed you were supposed to sleep in. Part of him wanted to believe that you also wanted to share a bed. But he wouldn’t dwell on the thought.
The snacks that you bought were quickly consumed, laughter shared between the two of you as you watched videos on Lando’s phone. You didn’t know exactly when it happened, but your head had started to rest on his shoulder. Lando took this opportunity to put his arm around the back of your neck.
Lando remained oblivious and was sure that this plan was working. You were scared and found sanctuary in his arms.
Except for the fact that you had overheard everything. Your phone was currently buzzing with messages from Oscar but you’d never let Lando know that.
Well.
You sighed as you unattached yourself from Lando’s side. You turned your face so that you could look into his eyes.
Half the time, you didn’t even know what color they were. Some days they were the brightest blue, others they looked more green, and the in the shade they were brown.
You smirked as you got closer.
“So, what did you tell the lady about getting me into your bed hm?”
You watched as a blush invaded Lando’s face before he put his hands over his face. Tik Tok was abandoned on the bedsheets below.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. You brought your hands up and peeled his own away from his face. Lando’s eyes flickered as he looked for some type of malice on your face. However, he only saw a smirk and a fiery look. He inhaled sharply.
“I have had a major crush on you since 2019. And when Zac said he’d be pairing people up, I begged him to get a room with one bed for us. We were supposed to switch with Oscar and this room was supposed to only have one bed. But, I guess Zac took it upon himself to already do it so I wouldn’t have to switch, but we did anyway.”
“Lando, I know. You think Oscar could keep a secret for that long?”
The brunet paused, blinked, stared at you, and blinked again.
“I’m going to kill Oscar.”
You giggled, making Lando melt once again.
“You’re not going to kill Oscar.”
A grumble escaped his lips as they turned into a pout. You took this moment to lean down and lightly peck them.
Once again, Lando froze.
“So, should we actually get some sleep?”
He could only nod his head, still not comprehending that you had actually kissed him and his plan worked semi-well.
You turned around and rested your head on the pillow. Just a few moments later, Lando’s arm found a home in the crook of your waist. He gently pulled, bringing your back closer to his chest.
So maybe he didn’t actually sleep shirtless, but that was fine because his head dug into your neck, just at your hairline. Lando breathed in deeply, getting situated.
Maybe the one bed trope did work.
You felt him smirk against your neck, but you thought he was close to sleep.
Until he spoke up.
“Sleep tight Y/n. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
“I’m going to murder you instead.”
y/n_l/n has posted
y/n_l/n I let the love bug bite 🐞 🌲
liked by mclaren, lando_norizz, papayaduo, oscarpiastri, and 104,948 others
y/nxlando UHHH HARD LAUNCH??
papaya.nation I knew that sweatshirt looked familiar when they walked in the paddock today!
landonorris4 the fact that he had a back up hoodie as well
formulala_delulu the couple who matches together - stays together 💚
oscarpiastri good to see that it all worked out in the end 😌
y/n_l/n let's not do that again, ok?
landonorris I thought you liked it tho 😙
y/n_l/n let it be know, you don't possess any rizz
oscarpiastri 🫵😂
loscar I need to know the lore behind this
norris4ever maybe he'll get a win now that he doesn't have to pine after y/n
mclaren814 my parents!
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis @e-nonsense
#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norizz#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
DRIVING ME MAD
Paring: Charles Leclerc x Driver!reader
Genre: smau-social media, fluff, chaotic?
Warning(s): use of Yn, language, translated French.
Synopsis: Yn is a driver for redbull and has been dating her on track rival for a few years, she always posts compromising/entertaining photos of Charles on her instagram.
Ynforeal
Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, lilymhe and 789,765 others
Ynforeal Me watching Charles deep throat my ice cream before giving it to me acting like nothing happened😐
Tagged: charles_leclerc
Maxverstappen1 He is always throating ice cream 🙄
charles_leclerc I did not ‘deep throat’ your ice cream
Ynforeal I literally saw you and have photographic proof.
Charles_leclerc😒
Ynforeal You know what to do…
arthur_leclerc he always used to do this to mine and acted like nothing happened while half my ice-cream was gone!
Ynforeal Maman P, come get your son!!
charles_leclerc
Liked by Ynforeal, Maxverstappen1, scuderiaferrari and 897,672 others
charles_leclerc Flowers and dinner to make up for eating your ice cream❤️
Tagged:Ynforeal
User15 how was the food @/Ynforeal ??
Ynforeal surprisingly good 😊
charles_leclerc HEY!!
Ynforeal thank you for the dinner and flowers Charlie, you are no longer getting the silent treatment 💕
charles_leclerc 😁
Maxverstappen1 Am I going to have a new teammate due to food poisoning??
charles_leclerc Mate, come on!
Ynforeal you don’t have to worry, it was a very nice meal
Ynforeal
Liked by charles_leclerc, Maxverstappen1, yourbff and 879,564 others
Ynforeal not letting you forget lockdown 😊
Tagged: charles_leclerc
Maxverstappen1 banana 🍌
Ynforeal 🍌
Carlossainz55 🍌
charles_leclerc 🍌
Charles_leclerc You couldn’t have picked a better picture of me ?
Ynforeal no❤️
User15 THEY HAVE MATCHING BANANA SUITS!!!
User10 couples who banana together stay together
User12 Amen 🙏
Ynforeal posted a story
Seen by Maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourbff and 897,626 others
Charles_leclerc
Liked by Ynforeal, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 786,985 others
Charles_leclerc We made it to Karting on time 👍
Tagged: Ynforeal
Ynforeal WE WERE 5 MINUTES LATE!!!
Charles_leclerc I don’t know what you are talking about….
Ynforeal 😒
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 smau#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 drivers#driver reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 driver!reader#f1 one shot#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#platonic#f1 x female reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3
a random day in my life in f1
pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid
summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock
word count: 2k
warnings: none
note: merry christmas and a happy new year!
thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)
it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…
masterlist / taglist
The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.
„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.
The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“
Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.
„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.
The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“
„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.
„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.
The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“
She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.
The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?
The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.
The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“
The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.
„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.
„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“
„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.
„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.
Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.
You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“
A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.
„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.
„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“
The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.
„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“
„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“
The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“
y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.
„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“
The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.
„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.
„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“
The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“
You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“
The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.
„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.
„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.
„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“
Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.
„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“
„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“
The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.
„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.
The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“
„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.
This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“
„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.
„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“
„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.
The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.
Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.
„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.
She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.
We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.
„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“
You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.
The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.
„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.
Comments 3.2K
user i- what was this?
user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition
user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule
user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?
user5 i heard lance almost fainted too
user6 this is cruel, but also love the content
user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER
user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht
user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan
user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!
youtube this was… eventful?
user11 ariana, what are you doing here?
user12 that’s so old
user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt
user11 what’s tiktok?
user14 love the new content
f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid
°°°
@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts
#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo#charles leclerc#fernando alonso#genz driver#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x f!reader#max verstappen x reader#female driver#female f1 driver
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Lando just wants you in his lap all the time. It’s an easy way to be close to you without having to stop what he’s doing, like having a conversation, watching a movie, gaming, etc. However, the first time he did it, he was home for a weekend and spending a lot of time catching up on livestreams with Max.
Lando got an idea and paused the game for a moment.
“Babe? Are you busy?” He is greeted with footsteps walking closer to the room.
“Not really. What’s up?” You answer leaning in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame.
“Can you come here?” He turns his gaming chair towards you. “Please?” His voice is slightly whiny.
You give him a hesitant look but walk over to him anyways. He reaches out for you, grabbing ahold of your hips and pulling you into his lap before reaching for his controller, trapping you between his arms, and starting up the game. At first you were confused because he never said anything after that other than yelling at his PC when his character died.
“Lando?”
“Hm?”
“What exactly am I here for?”
“Am I not allowed to miss my girlfriend?” He defended himself while still locked in on whatever game he and Max were playing. Your heart melt a little bit at his statement and accepted his response. You readjusted yourself so you lay your head on his shoulder and watched him play his game, drawing random shapes on the front on his shirt.
Eventually, you got kind of bored and asked Lando if you could take a turn next time he died. He perked up a bit at your question and agreed, showing you the different controls before passing it off to you, removing his headphones, ruffling his curls, and placing them over your ears, letting you readjust them before starting another round. Lando wrapped his arms around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder to watch you play his game. He listened to you and Max make conversation and laughed when you accidentally fell off a cliff.
“Chat is going absolutely mental over you two right now.” Max stated is disbelief, reading off some of the comments. “‘I want what Lando and Y/n have’, ‘The only thing I’m kissing is a shotgun after this stream!’” Max laughed and continued to read off a few more comments that caught his eye. Lando just smiled and squeezed you tighter, giving you a light kiss on your neck before returning to his original position.
————
I’ve been binge watching a lot of Lando’s and Max’s old streams and the March 7, 2023 stream is easily on of my top favorites to watch. I’ve been working on another fic with Max Verstappen but it’s taking me much longer than I thought but watching the livestreams gave me this idea and wanted to get something out. Hope you enjoyed this short little drabble until I can get time to work on my other story. Let me know if you have any ideas and if you want to see something for another driver!
Ciao!
#formula 1 drivers#formula one#formula1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#max fewtrell#lando norris x female reader#I can’t get enough of this man
916 notes
·
View notes
Text
Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince
pairing : charles leclerc x reader
fandom : f1
synopsis : you're the only female driver on the f1 grid, and have a secret relationship with ferrari's golden boy.
warnings : smut, sexual innunedo, comments made about body weight.
a/n : multi part series!! basically will be a slow build up to how their relationship gets exposed lol I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼
the soft rustle of the white linen under your skin lulled you into sleep, eyes heavy with exhaustion and hours of activity, the drawn curtains protecting your eyes from the harsh rays of sunlight that just moments ago had you whining to Charles to draw them.
Speaking of, Charles was bustling around, oddly energetic, considering the strenuous activities the both of you had engaged in hours ago.
groaning softly, you stretched like a cat, sighing in contentment as your muscles awoke. charles approached you mid stretch, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, your cheeks, your chin, and finally your lips.
the onslaught of affection made you giggle, and you tugged him down for a morning cuddle. charles laughed, giving in to you, wrapping his arms around you. the spanish sun streamed in, coating the both of you in a warm glow that had you snuggling closer to him, inhaling the deep scent of the sauvage perfume he had sprayed to the red and black ferrari team shirt he had changed into.
he sighed in contentment too, fingers gently stroking your hair, working through the tangles and knots, probably a result of his own hands laced through your hair, guiding you down when you had gone down on him.
"you slept well?" he enquired, fingers gently stroking your hair. "mmhmm" you mumbled, your own fingers dancing across his clad chest, slowly tracing up to his arms and drawing little flowers and shapes.
charles shivered at the feeling, heart fluttering in his chest as he took in the sight of you in his arms.
the ringing of your alarm broke the sweet silence and tranquility of the room, and you sighed, moving out of the warm embrace to turn off the alarm and drag your body out of bed.
"gotta get ready" you mumbled, still rubbing sleep from your eyes, yawning as you made your way to the bathroom.
"i hope I didn't tire you out before media day, cherie" charles teased, combing his hair in front of the mirror.
"oh shush" you mumbled through a mouth full of mint toothpaste.
"no but really cherie, i hope you slept well?" he asked, genuine concern laced in his voice.
you felt your heart melt, still getting used to how sweet and endearing your boyfriend was. "I promise im okay charles, besides, there is no way i would say no to a night like last night" you said, throwing him a smirk.
he laughed, taking out your McLaren t shirt and keeping it on the bed for you.
oh yeah, you happened to be the second driver for McLaren, and the only female driver on the grid.
being on opposing teams did little to stop you and charles from getting together, albeit in secret because you wanted to be discreet, and keep your relationship to yourself.
you looked at yourself at the mirror, rolling your eyes at the dark hickeys littered across your neck and collarbone, biting back a smile as you recalled the night before, charles hot lips pressing to your delicate skin, sucking harshly to create dark marks on your skin.
"charles marc herve perceval leclerc! look what you've done to me! i look like a fucking giraffe!" you whined and charles burst into giggles.
"desole, mon amour, i just lost control, you looked absolutely gorgeous, you still do" he said and you mentally awed at how sincere he was.
"thats alright, fenty beauty is the best match and wham! all gone" you said, concealing the marks to the best of your ability.
you walked back out, pulling on your jeans and your team t shirt, spraying yourself liberally in perfume. it was something you'd decide to start doing ever since becoming an f1 driver and having immensely long days.
just as you pulled on your sneakers, charles pulled you into his chest, earning a squeal of laughter from you.
"charles! what are you doing?" you laughed, letting your arms wrap around his torso, leaning your head back on his shoulder as he pressed the gentlest kiss to your neck.
"im just enjoying my girlfriend for as long as I can before I must hide my love for her from the world" he said dramatically, littering your neck with even more kisses, but each time he pressed more force to your neck, tongue darting out to lick each kiss, before gently letting his teeth sink into your neck.
you felt your heartbeat rise, and a second heartbeat arise between your legs, a warmth spreading through your body as a soft moan left your lips.
"charlie, not now.. we'll get late and my press officers will kill me if I'm late again" you whimpered, making absolutely no effort to pull away from him.
"just give me ten minutes amour, thats all i need" he whispered and you found yourself giving in, knowing that he was more than capable of making you cum in the limited time.
you let your head fall back as he sunk down to his knees, spinning you around and hoisting you up onto the table in your room.
his hands made their way to your jeans, unbuttoning them in a haste, letting them pool around your ankles.
your hands found home in his hair, tugging it harshly, not caring about the fact that he would not have time to fix it before you both had to rush.
charles looked up at you, green eyes flashing at you, before he gave you a little wink.
"such a cassanova" you moaned out, sarcastic even as charles tongue licked up your thighs, hand reaching for your underwear.
"behave cerise" he warned and you shut up, head leaning back in pleasure when his tongue finally made contact with your pussy.
you were definitely going to be late.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
charles jogged into the paddock, hair mussed up and eyes slightly dazed as he made his way to the ferrari garage. he had decided that you would go first, since he was less likely to get in trouble for being late.
he brushed his hands through his hair, although the poor attempt did little to tame the wild mess of hair.
"finally, where were you?" carlos asked, the spaniard throwing his teammate a charming smile.
"my alarm didn't go off and I slept in" charles said, the little white lie rolling off his tongue in all its practised perfection.
"mm sure" carlos replied. he had long suspected that charles had a secret girlfriend, but being the gentleman that he was, had decided better than to prod. if charles wanted him to know, he would tell him.
"who are we paired with for media?" he asked, putting on a cap to hopefully calm down his wild hair.
"alex, lewis, pierre, checo, valterri, y/n and you are together, im with max, fernando, lando, yuki, george and zhou" he said, pulling on a cap of his own.
charles hid a smile, happy at the prospect of getting to spend time with you.
"so you had sex" carlos said matter of factly as the two of them made their way to the press rooms, both waving at tifosi as they went. the cheers for carlos were extra loud since it was his home race.
"um i didn't say that" charles chuckled, waving as he saw a little girl with a teddy wearing a ferrari shirt.
"you don't have to mate, i can see a scratch on the back of your neck and your hair is a mess, you also look a little drunk but not from alcohol" carlos stated non-chalantly, making his way up the stairs.
"alright fine but I'm not saying who" charles said. he trusted carlos but he couldn't risk the paddock finding it because he knew it would be you facing the repercussions and not him. he had heard lots of stories from you on how you had to endure all sorts of stories and questions on how you had managed to sleep your way to f1, and how you had special connections with people, and he did not want the headlines to be accusing you of getting a seat by sleeping with him, when in reality you had met each other after you joined formula 1 in williams.
"thats okay you don't have to. but you look like you had a wild night" the spaniard laughed as charles blushed, his cheeks staining a soft cherry rouge.
"yes I did now please don't talk about my sex life in front of so many cameras" he begged, as they split up to go their different rooms.
making his way, he found you seated next to lewis, an empty spot right beside you, at the very end of the couch.
lewis smiled at charles, beckoning him to come and join the both of you.
when lewis turned to valterri who was on his left, charles threw you a subtle wink, which had you holding back an eye roll and biting your cheek to keep yourself from giggling.
alex turned to chat with the three of you for a while and valterri joined in too. you were interrupted by your press officers telling you they'd be staring the questions soon and you all settled in, and you prayed you'd get decent questions this time.
"so welcome everyone to the circuit de barcelona catalunya, for the spanish grand prix. we are joined by lewis hamilton, sergio perez, alex albon, pierre gasly, valterri bottas, charles leclerc and y/n l/n" and the questions started, with the first one going to lewis.
you found yourself zoning out a little, while the others answered questions about race conditions and alex's experience with a fan who tried to steal his M and M's.
you found yourself laughing at the story, unable to suppress giggles at alex's animated story telling.
"right, well the next question is for y/n" said another reporter, a young man with blonde hair in a sharp suit offered you a smile and you smiled back.
"y/n, there's been some talk about your weight and how it might affect your performance on the track, since you seemed to have put on a little after the winter break and testing. can you comment on that?" he said, completely calmly.
you were stunned.
you weren't quite sure if you had heard it correctly. around you, you could hear the reporters murmuring, and see the obvious anger and discomfort on everyone's faces around you. lewis gave you a look that said "should I speak up for you?" but you shook your head a little.
before you could answer, an angry voice filled the room.
"how dare you ask her a question like that? enough with these ridiculous questions about her weight! we're here to race, and her skills behind the wheel are what matter. if anyone doubts her abilities, they're in for a surprise on the track. it's time to move past these stereotypes and give credit where it's due – y/n is a fierce competitor and belongs here just as much as any of us. she has already done podiums and could do a win soon too with how quick she has been. all you do is ask stupid questions to a woman who has paved the way for others and I find it ridiculous, c'est très irrespectueux." charles spoke up, his usually calm demeanor ruffled.
you felt tears rise to your eyes, not expecting him to speak up, and you swore you'd never been more in love with charles.
distinctly, you heard lewis chime in, a deep frown in his forehead as he reprimanded the reporter for asking such a question.
"seriously? we're in a room full of talented racers, and you choose to ask a question like that? y/n is here because of her skill, determination, and hard work, not her weight. it's about time we focus on the racing, where she's more than capable of holding her own. let's leave these outdated notions behind and give credit where it's deserved." lewis said calmly, not showing how angry he was.
valterri and pierre spoke up as well, but you found your eyes drawn to charles, watching how his eyes, usually sparkly and bright held anger in them, a fire burning behind them. his fists were balled up, nostrils flaring as he tried to calm down.
charles knew that sylvia would be mad at him and his press officers would have to do some damage control but he hated how the reporters diminished the talent of the love of his life.
the both of you looked at each other, love and gratitude in yours and love and apologies in his.
as soon as it was over, you walked off, not wanting to talk to anyone else.
you decided to make your way over to your drivers room and almost successfully made it there, when you felt charles grab you as you walked past the ferrari hospitality.
he dragged you to his own room, eyes still filled with rage and hurt.
the moment it was the two of you inside the room, charles turned to you, one hand gently stroking your cheek while the other rested on your wait, and then he started talking, "mon coeur, i just want to apologise to you for having to deal with these insensitive questions. it's frustrating to see you continually face these when we should all be celebrating your talent and achievements. you're an incredible driver and an even better person, and i love you so much. im so proud to stand beside you and be by your side and-"
you cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down by the neck to meet your lips. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, hands grippin you so tight you knew it would leave a soft mark.
his tongue pushed against yours urgently, but you broke apart, panting heavily, to kiss his cheek and whisper a soft "thank you"
charles guided the both of you to the door to make sure it was locked, before lifting you up to rest you against the wall.
before you knew it his lips were on yours again, pressing against them, hot and needy, and you kissed him back with an urgency, a need to thank him for sticking up for you.
"do you think I'm... im too big?" you murmured against his lips.
your words had him stopping, forehead resting against yours as he sighed.
"mon amour, ma chérie, ma douce fille, tu es parfaite telle que tu es. j'adore tout en toi et personnellement, je trouve ton corps parfait. je veux que tu saches que tu es absolument incroyable et parfaite à tous égards, et je t'aimerai toujours." my love, my darling, my sweet girl, you are perfect as you are. I adore everything about you and personally I find your body to be perfect. I want you to know you are absolutely amazing and perfect in every way and I will always love you.
your eyes filled with tears as his fingers gently caressed your tummy, before he started peppering kisses all over you.
"i love you charles" you whispered, voice breaking a little and he noticed, pressing a kiss to your nose.
"i love you too my love" he whispered back.
"let me show you how perfect you are ma jolie, ma tournesol" he whispered, carrying you back to his bed to lay you down with such gentility, as if you were going to smash into a thousand pieces if he was rough with you.
"please let me show you how perfect you are, comment puis-je te résister quand je te vois, à quel point tu es magnifique et comment tu es une déesse absolue sur terre. laisse-moi t'aimer et te montrer ma gratitude pour toi, mon amour." how I cannot resist you when I see you, how gorgeous you are and how you are an absolute goddess on earth. let me love you, and show you my appreciation for you my love he whispered and you gasped softly.
how you loved it when he sweet talked you in french.
you couldn't wait for the dirty talk to start.
"so fucking beautiful" he groans, admiring your body, as he drags your shirt off your body, followed by the jeans, tracing each and every one of your curves, your heart warming up at his tender touch as his gaze stares fervently into yours, with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes for you
his lips instantly reconnect with yours, finding home on your lips. his kiss is demanding, and just the right amount of rough, and when he slaps your ass softly, you moan giving his tongue an opening, allowing him to slowly slide into your mouth, tongue exploring every crevice.
"be quiet for me cherie, can't have everyone hearing my beautiful girl's sweet moans hmm?" he whispered against your ears, biting along the lobe.
his hand grabs a hold of your chin, holding you in place as your legs start to wrap around his waist, your fingers digging into his skin.
"charles" you moan breathlessly between his lips, and he begins to unclasp your bra, his fingers intertwining with both straps as pulls it down your arms, failing to break the kiss.
he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, licking around the bud before sucking on it. the simple motion was enough to have you moaning and whining against him, as his fingers teased the other nipple, flicking it repeatedly, and running the rough pad of his thumb over the pert nipple.
his name left your lips like a chant as your hips rutted against him of their own accord.
his right hand moving to play with your right nipple, twisting it, flicking it, pinching it before soothing it with a gentle motion of his thumb. he switched, mouthing and sucking your other nipple, instead, while his hand moved to your left, pulling harshly as he rolled the sensitive bud in between his fingers. you tried your best to stifle your moans, taking slight respite in the fact that the ferrari drivers rooms were a little soundproofed, your panties no longer damp but practically wet, threatening to drip down your legs as you clenched again, the arousal becoming painful. after finishing with your chest, charles kissed downwards, to your stomach, licking his way down to your hips. his green eyes met your own, as he moved his hand in between your thighs, feeling how wet you were, even when you weren't even fully exposed to him. he gently pushed your panties against your cunt, watching your pussy lips swallow the material and soak it with your arousal, the friction from the material making you gasp.
before you could grind against it, he pulled it off of you, letting it drop to the floor. he moved lower, arms trailing down your thoughts almost kneeling in front of you, "you look so good baby, all spread out for me. i love everything about your body mon amour.
i love these marks, i love your scars, i love every freckle and dot on your body," he murmured, fingers gently tracing the stretch marks on your tummy and thighs.
"do you want my tongue in your pretty pussy hmm?" he asked, as you nodded fervently. "words, cerise" he said, fingers gently tracing circles on your clit from outside your panties. "yes, yes I do please!" you whined, grinding against his finger.
and with that he moved in between your thighs.
with both hands, he pulled your knees even more apart, so he could fully face your quivering pussy watching as you pink hole repeatedly clenched and un clenched around nothing, shimmering with your own juices.
licking his lips, he leaned forward, feeling a carnal desire burst open within him. he kissed both your thighs, before looking up at you again. then he moved forward, pushing his pointer finger into you, swearing when your walls enveloped him. he pushed in till his knuckles, pumping up and down as your moans and groans of pleasure rang out above him, before shoving in a second finger, and then a third, the stretch making you throw your head back, you hair fanning out.
"so beautiful mon ange, all spread out like this. i can see all of you and you're the most beautiful person ive ever laid my eyes on" he groaned and you found yourself moaning event louder, till he brought one hand up to let you suck his fingers.
then he licked broad stripe up your pussy, still fingering you, before running his tongue up your slit repeatedly. using two fingers he spread you open, latching onto your clit, as you let out a scream of pleasure above him, arching your back even further. charles let out a choked groan at how good you tasted, almost as sweet and sour as a cherry, his favourite nickname for you, as he flicked the sensitive bud back and forth before sucking hard on it. his tongue repeatedly rolled your clit, before he took it into his mouth, lips enclosing around the bud. while his fingers continued thrusting into you, the band in your stomach threatening to snap, when his nose pressed against your clit, and when it nudged the sensitive button repeatedly, and he continued sucking your clit till you had tears streaming down your face from the ache of the pleasure.
his fingers and tongue worked in tandem, as you tightened above him, your thighs wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you let out a strangled moan of "oh god, oh my god, charles!", and before you knew it you had cum on his tongue, his tongue and fingers working you through your orgasm, licking up every last drop as you continued to quiver above him, body rocking out your orgasm.
you expected him to pull away, but he stayed, fingers still in you, looking up at you, and the sight of his nose and mouth, shimmering with your juices, was enough to nearly make you cum again, but as you tried to pull him up, he pushed your body back down, looking at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "no no no, mon coeur. i need to show you how much i love you and one orgasm won't do that" he said,and with that, he moved back down between your thighs, licking your pussy languidly a few times, before shoving his tongue back into you, this time, pulling your hips closer so you were nearly dangling off the edge of the bed, almost balancing on his face, your hands reaching down to pull his dark locks, legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer as he went back to sucking your clit again, the lewd sounds echoing in the room, as desperate moans of "charles! charles! oh my god, fuck, fuck, amour" left your lips, like a prayer, your head thrown back and chest heaving, nipples hardened against the cold air in the room. as if on cue, charles let his hand reach up to gently fiddle with your nipples, as your hips began to rut on his face, his nose deliciously nudging your clit again, and his fingers soon replaced it, flicking your clit with his finger and licking around it, till you were cumming again, with broken screams of his name leaving your lips.
he stood up, climbing up onto the bed to kiss you, and you tasted yourself on his lips.
"my beautiful girl. the most beautiful girl" he mumbled repeatedly against your lips.
climbing over you, he caressed your cheek softly, before pulling you in for a gentle kiss, which quickly became teeth and tongue, as he brought his cock closer to your entrance. he swiped it through your folds, running the tip over your clit continuously till you felt like you were gonna pass out from the combination of feelings you were experiencing. "please mon ange, please just fuck me, please!" you finally cried out, gasping when he pushed himself into you, finally filling you with what you always craved.
"my gorgeous girl has the most gorgeous pussy ever, so soft and pink" he groaned, slotting himself into you, thrusting his hips till he was in so deep it was as though he belonged there. as though he belonged inside you, as if he belonged with you forever.
he continued to snap his hips against yours, burying himself in you, mouth leaning down to suck your nipples again.
"m-more" you managed to stutter out. "can you handle more, mon bebe?" he asked, his gentility and sweetness peeking through. "yes, fuck yes, i can" you moaned, too drunk on the feeling of cock sliding in and out of your pussy. "d'accord cherie" he murmured.
without stopping the movement of his hips, he flipped you over onto your front, as you landed ungracefully on your front. "hands and knees" he commanded, still fucking you
the new angle was making stars burst forth in your vision.quivering, you moved onto your shaky knees and hands, as he gripped your waist from behind, pulling you back to meet his cock.
your incoherent moans of his name were fuel to his fire, and he reached around you to rub your clit roughly, collecting your arousal on his fingers, before stuffing his fingers in your mouth, prompting you to suck on them. you swirled your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his fingers again, as he moved your fingers in deeper, almost making you choke.
the feeling of him nearly fucking you in two was clouding your senses, the band in your tummy ready to snap again. behind you, increased the pace of his thrusts, using his other hand to pinch and rub your clit again, a high pitched groan leaving his lips as his orgasm rode up on him, but, being the gentleman that he was, he wanted you to cum first.
the harsh rubbing of his fingers on your clit and his cock ramming into your pussy, the squelch of sounds and your moans and groans filled the room, sweat dripping down your bodies and the smell of sex penetrating your nose.
when charles suddenly picked up the paxe and wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough to restrict your airflow ever so slightly, you let out a high pitched moan, the feeling sending you into euphoria as your pussy gushed around him, charles hissed when you clenched on his sensitive cock, finally spurting his cum into you as well.
panting, you pulled apart, both of you collapsing on his bed.
"fuck that was-"
"insanely hot, insanely good, insanely perfect" you said, curling up into his side.
"thank you for supporting me my love" you whispered again, surprised at the tears filling your eyes.
"aw mon cherie, don't cry" he whispered, hands gently pushing your hair out of your face.
"i won't" you sniffled softly, letting out a watery laugh at the concern in his face.
"i love you so much" you mumbled, letting his soft humming lull you to sleep, not giving a damn about the fact that literally any moment McLaren would have a breakdown when they saw their star talent was missing.
but all you cared about in that moment was getting some time with the man you loved.
charles sighed in contentment as he looked down at you, dozing off in his arms.
in his daze he missed the footsteps making their way to the door.
neither of you missed the sharp rap of knocked against the door, making you jump out of your skin as carlos' voice came from the other end.
"cabron, we are needed for a meeting. can you open your door so i can get my extra shoes? i left them there by accident" he said and you froze.
"don't say a word" charles mumbled to you, gently getting up.
god, you were so fucked.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
a/n - will definitely make this a multi part series!! any comments feedback reblogs idea etc are always appreciated!! much love always 🩷
TAGS -
f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion
charles leclerc : @dark-night-sky-99
everything : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷
#charles leclerc#cl#cl16#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader smut#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fanfiction#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 drivers x reader#f1 drivers x reader smut#f1 drivers#f1#formula 1
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Coraline
Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.
young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid
A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.
Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.
tagged: @treehouse-mouse
2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.
Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.
This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.
Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.
With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.
Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.
You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.
“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”
“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”
The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”
You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.
“Sorry?”
There’s no way
“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.
You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.
Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.
Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.
Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.
“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.
“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”
Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.
The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.
You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.
It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.
“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”
You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.
From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.
You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.
They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.
All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.
When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.
Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.
There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.
So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.
Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”
You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.
Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.
You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”
Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.
The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.
You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.
You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.
You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.
“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.
“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.
“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.
“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.
“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.
“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.
Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.
You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.
You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.
They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.
Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.
You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.
They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?
You think you deserve to be here?
They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you
You are nothing compared to the other drivers
You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team
You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.
You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.
You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.
Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.
You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.
The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.
You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.
Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.
It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.
You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.
The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.
You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.
This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.
You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.
It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.
The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.
The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.
They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.
They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.
So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.
Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.
Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.
You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.
You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.
And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.
After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.
And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.
It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.
You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.
“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”
“Will you have a seat next year?
“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”
“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”
You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.
Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.
You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.
Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.
You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.
“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you
“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.
“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”
“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.
“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”
You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.
“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”
You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.
“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.
“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”
Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.
You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.
You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.
“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.
“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.
“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.
Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.
The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.
“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete arsehole, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.
Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.
“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.
So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.
“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.
“Yeah, not entirely, but better”
“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”
“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”
“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.
“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.
“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.
“You promise?”
Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.
“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.
“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”
“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.
When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.
Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.
These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.
The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.
The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.
#formula 1#reader insert#driver reader#f1 grid x reader#formula 1 driver imagines#platonic f1 grid#f1 2023 grid x y/n#f1 imagine#female driver reader#comfort fic#angst with a happy ending#angst#please look at trigger warning before you read#lewis hamilton#charles lecrelc#platonic lewis hamilton#platonic charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
most of the drivers' reactions to the whole Horner situation is so disappointing tbh. what do you mean someone in the paddock, an employee gets harassed by one of the top figures in the sport and your reaction is either "it has nothing to do with me", or "no comment", "i just like cars and i want to drive", "it's noise and distraction", "i'm here to race", and "it's a good thing for the media", "it doesn't affect me", "i don't really have an interest".
why is it so hard to care about something other than your racing career? you gotta have some morals, dude. not caring about women's safety in your oh so beloved sport is some fucked up behaviour. in situations like this it really shows how fucking privileged they are and it's honestly repulsive.
this is precisely why Lewis is always the one being asked about any non-sport related topic. because he's the only one who cares and gives honest and nuanced answers. genuinely terrified of what this sport will become when he retires, cause no one will speak out on anything.
and then people wonder why we say that f1 is not a safe place for women and that misogyny is still very much a thing in the sport? men don't care, including the president of the fia and f1, the other team principals and most of the drivers as well. when the faces of the sport clearly don't give a shit about women, what kind of hope is there?
they can talk about equality and progressive values and promoting women in motorsports, when this is the reality of how they actually treat the women working in the sport. imagine how that poor woman is feeling, seeing how much the drivers care about what she's going through. utterly disrespectful, with no compassion or empathy.
f1 needs to do so much better.
#formula 1#f1#f1 2024 season#f1 2024#this is a rant fyi#i don't even know what to tag this#lost a huge amount of respect for some of the drivers i actually liked before#it's a sad day for female f1 fans#or rather it's been a sad month#and all this during women's history month too#fuck life
634 notes
·
View notes
Text
forbidden fruit | Charles Leclerc
a/n: new to the f1 communityy 😬 apologies for any term or idea i got wrong. female!reader. no proofread! enjoyy 🤍
summary: the princess of mercedes and the prince of ferrari, what could possibly go wrong?
“y/n! y/n! she’s in her last turn! leclerc’s trailing behind! can he do an over take?”
splashing champagnes and listening to the dutch national anthem were never your favorite of winning a podium, but who cares?
you were on P3 and charles leclerc was not.
perhaps retelling the story of your rivalry with the monégasque driver would take a whole frustrating, aggravating, and lengthy year for us to get through; and perhaps it was for the best to leave it where it is, never to be touched, but to reminisce with a needle of cringeness poking through your heart.
although an honorable mention to verstappen, for taking the lead role of leclerc’s personal favorite rival.
it was all an inchident, of course.
smirking back to the driver in a flashing, scuderia ferrari, red fire suit, you could only feel your ego bubbling to the top of your throat. charles leclerc was staring. and staring hard. what a shame you couldn’t even take out your phone and take a snippet of his raging glance. what a fun sight for the whole news headlines to see.
‘charles leclerc, envy and jealousy…’
of course, he couldn’t lash it out. how could he? would the handsome, young, and talented ferrari driver want to ruin his reputation in the media? obviously, not.
of course, you knew it all too well. every day you wake up with the tip of a knife, aiming at your throat, ready to nick you anytime you take a wrong step on the luxurious path of an f1 driver. being the only female driver on the grid makes your life a thousand times more challenging.
but who were you to be a nitpick?
the media loves drama. we all do. perhaps it was a little bit more entertaining to see what you are wearing when the races had gone wrong. what hairstyle were you wearing for the big race? or, maybe, just which driver you were dating on the grid this season?
never once you could escape the dating questions or all the bullshit misogynistic attitudes from the journalists, press, media, and, well, …you name it.
perhaps you have to give it to leclerc for never going easy on you just because you are of a different gender.
“congratulations on P3, y/n,” max turned towards you and gave you a pat on the shoulder; simultaneously, bringing you back to reality.
“t- thanks.”
—
“you win this one, l/n.”
he took off his helmet, and clutched it loosely to his side. the cheeky smirk plastered on his face. the eyes searched for the depth of yours.
only you knew how much pain it was for him to force his lips to create such a soft and fake smile for the thousand camera lenses, waiting to catch the two rivals lacking. bumping into leclerc after the race, fresh and full of adrenaline, alone in the hallway of the track was never an enjoyable experience to endure.
“good race, leclerc,” you muttered out as many PR and drivers walked past you two.
“same to you.”
what a shame your PR manager ushered you out for the media room before you two could give a shot of throwing hands - elegantly, of course.
—
“good work on the qualifying round, l/n. return to the garage. over.”
“copy that,” you tapped your headset, notifying the engineer of the prestigious mercedes team.
driving for mercedes in f1 could count as your biggest dream since the karting days. and the race won against ferrari was a - personal - success.
slowing your baby down, and pressing the brake mechanism of the car, you came to a halt as the friction overpowered the tires. one or two seconds later, you could hear the mercedes team rushing and scurrying over to your parked position to collect you back to the mothership.
“take her back, guys!”
the screaming of your fans nearby erupted as you ascended out from the cramped space of your f1 seat. taking your helmet off, and waving to them; you gracefully jumped down from the car and headed towards the mercedes headquarters.
a long walk, but who are you to make a fuss?
an f1 driver should have no problem walking a couple of miles. oh but how annoyingly a group of fans quickly crowded over you and blocked your ways…red flags, horses, and charles leclerc faces. clearly, you knew whose fans they were.
fussing, grabbing, and pulling, you were harassed, unfortunately. autographs, hats, pictures, postcards, and questionable stuff were pushed into your face.
“y/n! please! sign my shirt!” “get the hell away from charles!”
“charles deserved p3 today!” “l/n!! l/n! say hi to my dad! he loves you!”
trying to fulfill all of their requirements, you realized you had found yourself in the sea of scuderia ferrari fans. it is an unspoken fact that you were the rival of charles leclerc; you could say some fans were more enthralled by that fact than others.
“y/n! what do you think about charles? are you guys dating?”
sometimes you hate technology. the cameras pointing at you reminded me of the knife you carry mentally with you every day. it could gain you thousands of thousands of likes in a few tiktoks or perhaps get ready to say goodbye to your f1 position.
“…we’re not talking. in any complicate way,” smiling through the pain you signed the cap that was shoved into your face. gosh, mercedes. where was your security?
your patience could only last so much until one fan decided it was worth it to grab your hand and pull you down for an instagram-worthy photo. and he possibly thought the best way to execute it was to, firstly, seize your waist. how thoughtful of him.
“fuc- please don’t-”
“y/n! i love you!”
man-child was not having it. sweaty and clammy hands could send chills down your spine if you didn’t know.
“please-”
smile through the pain. smile through the pain. it was all part of the job, at the end of the day. the fans still won and you were just a doll for f1. breathe in, breathe out.
he pulled his iphone 7 out of his pocket, painfully slow; slower than the ferrari’s pitstops. his side was squished to yours. the cologne, the smell, the sensory, everything-
“hey, hands off.”
you could say it was the first time you were glad to see charles leclerc from your entire life; wearing his race suit sluttily around his waist. leclerc - being leclerc - stunned his fans, leaving a big hole in the crowd around you.
he was reaching out for your waist; surprisingly, in a way you were pleased, and pulled you out of the red crowd. and just like magic, the security came rushing in and ushered the mob of fans away from the scene.
wearing that stunned face of yours, you regained consciousness and your rival emotions. clearing your already cleared throat, charles took it as a signal to let go of your waist. how suddenly you realized it was all happening over the armor of your fire suit.
thank god.
“..thanks”
“no need to thank me,” the competitive tone made its way through his annoying lips again. scoffing, he looked at you with his hand clutching his helmet by his side, “i don’t understand why they need to adore you this much.”
how rude.
“for the record, they are your fans, leclerc,” you scoffed offendedly, and your hand found its natural place on your chest; clutching for dramatic effect.
“what did i do to deserve such loyal fans, l/n…” not even looking at you he smirked under his nose. “they shouldn’t be acting this way, no?”
he looked over at you, seeing you in your distressed state and a chuckle left his lips. the cameras settled on the stands far away in the distance and stared at you two, they were definitely on.
shit.
this is going to end up in the headlines.
—
“check out your new title…” your manager cleared his throat as you nervously waited.
“you can’t just leave me hanging here!”
placing your phone in your lap your hands returned to the comfort of the steering wheel. twisting and turning, you maneuvered your mercedes inside the driver's garage.
“calm the fuck down! i’m pulling out the source for accuracy,” you swore you could see your manager rolling his eyes. “wait for it…‘charles to the rescue. mercedes and ferrari, love or rivalry?’”
“shut up.”
“i can send you the links.”
“please don’t,” you sighed as you looked over your shoulder to slide into the parking lot like a distinguished f1 driver. “…the devil works hard, but the media works harder, or what?”
“we could use a little PR for mercedes, y’know?” the crackled chuckle left your phone.
please.
“the signal is shit in the parking lot, i’ll see you at the paddock. bye.”
“alright, be quick.”
gathering your bag and phone, you checked your face one last time in the rearview mirror and opened the car door. unfortunately, the infamous ferrari entered the parking lot with its signature roars, as you stepped out of your car.
the devil had worked hard once again. walking to your trunk, you kicked it open and snatched some of your essential stuff for the race. and who would’ve thought charles leclerc could park his car in under 20 seconds?
not to mention, it wasn’t straight. (oops)
getting out of his car, he checked his hair and fixed his shirt. obviously, aware of the paparazzi lurking around the track’s garage for the big day, and hoping to sell a couple of pics for something a little more than a couple of bucks. perhaps an even better price for them if they caught you and your rival having a ‘friendly’ chat.
don’t get close to him. don’t get close to him.
“what a coincidence,” leclerc approached your mercedes as he locked his ferrari with its infamous beeping.
“how so?”
smirking back at him, you slammed your trunk closed and shut off; locking your car in the same manner. catching the glimpse of his eyes you made it your personal goal to escape him as fast as you could possibly can.
flicking your head away and taking off, the path inside the track was as empty as you hoped it could be.
“slow down, i just wanna talk.”
“leclerc.”
“you walk too fast,” you swore if you looked back and he is grinning. “you trying to escape from me?”
fuck.
“got a problem with that, leclerc?”
his dark green eyes met yours after you decided the risk was below the ‘manageable’ level to turn around.
“no,” he grinned at you. how you wish you could smack it off of his face. “i jus’ want some company while walking to the track, no?”
company, my ass.
clearing his throat, he looked at you, “you’re a pretty good rival though.”
gaining a nod and a smirk from you leclerc was cut short of his run time as his PR manager came to collect him to the ferrari garage. how sad. his messy hair, the confidential wave, and two eyes met yours one last time before you decided to head to the mothership of your mercedes headquarters.
big trouble, y/n. big trouble.
—
“y/n, we neeed to talk.”
the paddock was usually quiet upstairs, all the mechanics and engineers spent their time in garage down below. only toto, george, lewis, your manager, and their managers, and - obviously - you would spend time up here. also. is every private manager in the world annoyingly scary and friendly at the same time or what?
sitting down next to you on the black sofa of the mercedes headquarters by the pitch, you were face-to-face with your lovely manager.
clearing your nonexistent anxiety, “…yes?”
“look…the media is starting to notice your relationship with charles…”
“and..?”
“and,” he crossed his arms, “we need to work on keeping this situation private…it could affect your reputation. maybe after the soft launch phase is over, you can publicize it…if you want to, obviously.”
the fuck?
“…what are your thoughts?”
he looked into your face, not a single thought behind it. somehow the racetrack outside the notoriously big, shiny window of the mercedes paddock suddenly gained your attention, and he restored to snapping his fingers in front of your face.
“what-? oh right- for fuck’s sake! we’re not in a relationship!”
“and what about those paparazzis’ pictures? I thought we agreed on sharing every ‘public’ detail about your life with me?”
“first of all, privacy. second of all. you believe that?! anthony! you’re my manager, i would’ve told you if i was dating a ferrari driver!” grabbing a quick breath,
“do you think i want to date the reddest of all flags on the grid?!”
“yeah? but that’s not the impression the media got,” he said. “even max! max verstappen thought-”
“who cares what max thinks!” you thrown your head back on the sofa.
“PR could be good, but we don’t know if it’s going to blacklash-”
george russell. he walked up to you two arguing on the black sofa and smirked at you; clearly, he heard your talks about ‘the reddest of all flags on the grid.’
“shut your mouth, russell,” sighing sarcastically as you could and you turned to your manager, who was having the time of his life.
“I’m not saying anything,” he raised his hands defensively, grinning the shit out of the corners of his mouth.
“I’m a driver, not a play doll you could match-make for the team’s reputation. hell. doesn’t charles have a girlfriend?”
anthony pulled out his phone and scrolled through ‘something,’ “yes…charles…has a girlfriend, PR relationship?”
“what do you mean?”
putting his phone away, “doesn’t matter. but what the media care about is to get a story out of nothing.”
“…and?”
“you have a reputation of being a private figure, and you're an expert in keeping it that way. we just need to do that until the end of the season.”
george chuckled sarcastically, "she seems angry at us, guys.”
“i am. and i’m not dating anyone for mercedes. done,” you stood up from the sofa and beelined towards the door. “also. i’m telling toto.”
and someone finally heard you this time. the whole room’s atmosphere seemed to tense up as someone entered the door.
toto wolff.
“is there a problem, y/n?” toto asked as george smirked at the unfolding situation.
you swung your head towards the origin of the sound and cleared your throat, “your employee, mr. wolff, is trying to matchmake me with a ferrari driver.”
toto chuckled.
toto chuckled?
“so there is something between you and charles?” he raised his eyebrow at you. expectedly, george was holding his laughter in for his dear life.
“why does everyone thinks that we’re dating?! even toto?!”
“so you’re not dating leclerc?”
“no!”
congratulations. you have successfully crashed onto the sofa once again, groaning your pain out.
“she’s lying,” george chimed in.
“I. am. not.”
how surprising that george’s back kissed the sofa as you tackled him jokingly down. a moment of silence for toto to watch many of his best drivers tackle each other like it’s a normal day in kindergarten.
“are you sure you are not dating, leclerc?”
last straw. you clutched your bag and left george dysfunctional on the couch. walking past the room, you glanced back one last time and said with the best sarcasm, “i’m not. and I’m not dating him for mercedes. done! I’m a driver, not a doll!”
slamming the door shut, you headed for your private driver’s room.
"she's angry at us…” george chuckles nervously; obviously, with a hint of joy.
“no shit sherlock”
—
edit: part 2
part 2?? reblog, like, whatever the heck you want would be appreciated 😘
today’s a great day to take care of yourself, lots of luv 🤍
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fic#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#toto wolff#george russell#george russel x reader#driver!reader#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#charles leclerc one shot#f1 x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
triple threat * fem!driver
it’s always the three of them against everybody else
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: swearing
notes: i’m such a crybaby for all those long live edits on tiktok so here i am crying over a fictionAL SERIES THAT I CREATED ALL ON MY OWNNNN
(series masterlist) | (📂 pre-formula 1)
-> 2016
“i can’t believe it,” oscar says, appearing behind her. she turns around and meets the two pairs of eyes she’s been looking for. “you finally beat me.”
her eyes are teary, cheeks flushed as her hair stuck out from her ponytail. “did you let me win?”
“of course not!” oscar pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her. “you did it all on your own. good job, mate.”
“finally,” logan appears from behind oscar, replacing him for another tight and comforting hug. “congratulations on the win. you did amazing today.”
“thank you. i can’t believe it,” she giggles, a hand covering her lips. “i finally won a race. i might actually have a shot at this.”
oscar raises his eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. “you’ve always had a chance. you’re wonderful on the track.”
“yeah, but i’m a girl,” she mutters, sighing as she watches the crowd build up for the podium announcement. “it’s not very often someone like me is accepted around here. you guys are my only friends.”
logan smacks her shoulder. “we don’t care if you’re a girl. i’d beat you at any competition any day.”
“i will continue putting up a fight, though,” oscar grumbles in a frown, giving her a side eye. but upon meeting her eyes, his lips spread into a proud smile. “but not today. today is all yours. embrace it.”
she sighs, closing her eyes as the sun shines brightly above them. “it’s not every day i get to beat you on the track.”
-> 2017
“i can’t believe it! i’m so happy for you!” she shrieks, arms thrown around oscar’s shoulders as she sways their bodies. “another win in your pocket.”
“i’m sorry you crashed out,” oscar frowns as he pulls away. “you would’ve caught up with me and won if you hadn’t.”
truthfully, crashing out in a karting race dropped her morale by a lot. walking back to where her parents were, she had to hold back her tears and bite her quivering lips to hide disappointment.
but she can’t do that with all these eyes on her. so while her two friends made it on the podium that day, she forces a smile to her face and opened her arms wide to congratulate them.
“doesn’t matter. i’m proud of you,” she smiles. she turns, noticing logan walking towards them. “and you!”
“thank you! it was a good race, don’t you think?” logan beams. “i’m sorry for your crash, though. was it bad?”
she shrugs as she scrunches up her nose. “doesn’t really matter. today is about you guys! you made the podium again!”
“it’s not a podium i consider successful if you’re not on it with us,” logan drops his head with a frown. oscar nods in agreement, giving her a small smile. “you’ll come back next race.”
“of course!” she smiles, taking the hug logan is offering her. “go on the podium. i’ll wait for you guys right here.”
“ice cream still on for after?” oscar grins as he takes a step away. “take my good side, okay?”
“and mine,” logan adds. “i know you’re not a photographer often. but please, i beg you to take good pictures for once.”
she rolls her eyes, pushing logan towards the direction oscar is already walking. “i promise you will look good in your pictures today. blythe’s here to take pictures — she’s good at taking pictures of you.”
-> 2018
glancing through the small gap between the makeshift wall and the curtain, logan towers over her smaller frame as they watch the crowd gather beneath the elevated stage.
“this is a sight to remember,” she says excitedly, turning to meet his eyes. “this is so fucking cool.”
“i know. you think anybody important is down there?” logan mutters, raising his eyebrow. “where is oscar?”
“i’m here,” oscar giggles from behind them, prompting the two to turn around stiffly to look at him. “i was in the bathroom.” he raises his eyebrow as he realises where they are. “the hell are you guys looking at there?”
“the crowd for the podium,” logan smiles, beckoning him to come forward. “look, dude. it looks amazing.”
“i would hope so,” oscar grins, hopping over to them to peek through the gap they were looking at.
his smile drops, developing into a stare of awe and shock. the crowd has developed since he last glanced at it on his way to the bathroom.
“oh,” he says as he breathes out. “you’re right.”
she squeezes herself between oscar and the curtain, phone held out between the gap to snap a quick picture. “i’m remembering this moment for life. first of many.”
-> 2019
oscar rips his helmet off his head, running over to crowd that’s formed behind the barrier ahead of him.
“i did it! i won in formula 3!” he cheers, pumping his fist in the air as he runs over to where his team is gathered. he jumps into the crowd, choosing specifically where she stands, just slightly taller than the barrier that separated them.
“bitch!” she shrieks, falling backwards as his weight falls on her. “i’m proud of you, but god, oscar!”
“i won! i won!” he cheers as his feet meets the concrete floor once more. he jumps on the spot, grabbing her wrists. “did you see me on the track?”
she jumps, grabbing his wrists tightly. “i did! you raced an amazing race today!”
“dude, you won!” logan’s voice approaches them, joining the jumping huddle they’ve formed. “i can’t believe it!”
“i did!” oscar screams, one of his hands smacking logan’s shoulder. “i’m sorry for pushing you off track, though.”
“doesn’t matter! you won, you won!” logan cheers. he turns to the girl behind the barrier. “today, we eat a meal. not ice cream. i’m starving.”
“dude, same,” oscar says calmly. he turns to her. “you choose where we eat.”
“what?” she cries incredulously as she throws her head back. “you guys raced today. you choose where we go after the race.”
“no, you’re always here during our races to support us. this time, we give you a choice,” logan grins, leaning on the barrier towards her. “our way of giving back to you, of course.”
“i’m here because i want to be here,” she smiles. “i want to be able to support you from the sidelines! i’m your biggest fan.”
watching her friends progress to be in a league higher than her hurt, of course. but there are some facts she’s come to terms with and it’s that they will never have the same opportunities.
all she can do is swallow back the bitterness of it all and look at the brighter side. if racing doesn’t work out for her, there will be other opportunities for her. surely, somewhere else if it’s not here.
oscar hums, raising an eyebrow at her. “fine.”
logan sighs, shaking his head. “stubborn. let dalton choose, then.”
“i can’t believe it!” she drops her helmet onto the cushioned chair. her hands are quick to cover her eyes, catching the tears that fell as she heaves with every breath. “i could’ve won that race!”
logan and oscar, stood behind her, are speechless as they follow her to a spot without cameras. the race was brilliant, overtaking countless cars and climbing her way to a good spot.
but then she made a mistake and stalled, causing her to lose out on a couple of positions. realistically, she could have won the race.
“everyone makes mistakes,” logan says softly. “it’s okay.”
“no! i raced like it was my first time in a stupid car! i’ve never stalled before!” she cries.
logan quickly pulls her into his arms, rubbing her back as they try their hardest to comfort her. “this was the race! this should’ve been the race that did it for me!”
“there will be more races, you know,” oscar tries his luck at saying something.
despite growing around many women in his life, comforting any of them is a feat he has yet to meet. he never know the right words to say to them.
she breaks free from logan’s grasps, falling into a squat as she continues to cry. “i’m never making it to f1.”
“hey, don’t say that!” oscar scolds her, tapping her shoulder softly. “i stalled the other day in an f3 car. it could happen to anybody.”
“it shouldn’t be happening to me! i’ve got a lot more to prove than you guys,” she sobs, rubbing her tears all over her face. “you know that. i’m never making it out of this league after that. i fucking-“
logan squats right next to her, rubbing circles on her back. “you’re too hard on yourself. one race doesn’t define you.”
she frowns, rubbing her eyes. “it’s over for me.”
-> 2020
she takes a deep breath as her name is called, tears filling her eyes. she walks past the wall and out onto the elevated stage as the crowd erupts in cheers.
in the crowd below her, she spots her parents standing against the barriers with oscar and logan behind them.
a smile stretches her lips as she catches their eyes, phones held up to document yet another achievement from her in the sport.
logan gives her a thumbs up, while oscar gives her a simple smile and a nod. but it tells her more than it needs to.
her parents are in tears once more, watching their eldest achieve things people never thought she could and would.
after the podium celebration, she pulls her hair out of her ponytail as she approaches the two boys that’s come out to support her. “hey! thank you for coming to watch my race!”
“i wouldn’t have missed it for the world, stupid,” oscar smiles, turning immediately at the sound of her voice. “that overtake you did in the last corner? masterclass.”
“dude, i thought you were gonna crash out with that move,” logan says through gritted teeth, shoving her back slightly. “you were so good!”
she flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes. “i learn from the best.”
“you’re very much welcome,” oscar grins. “how was it up on that podium? hearing your national anthem and all? cool, right?”
“amazing, actually,” she says exasperatedly, throwing her arms in the air. “okay, let me be a good daughter. i’ll find my parents, let me get changed and we’ll head out to dinner like we planned.”
oscar nods. “be pretty. you’re going to be all over our snapchat and instagram, mate.”
-> 2021
she taps her card onto the reader, the gantry opening up for her. when she crosses that line, oscar appears next to her with a smile.
“the f1 paddocks look so much better than i remember,” she whispers to oscar as they start walking. “this is so cool.”
“oh, look who finally made it,” logan sasses them, approaching them with his hands on his hips. “never changing out of being tardy, i see.”
“you were early for marketing, stupid,” she scowls, walking further in with them.
her lips part as she looks around in awe, a smile spreading her face. “i want to be here every weekend someday.”
“we’ll get there,” oscar grins, nudging her slightly his his elbow. “but this is fun, isn’t it?”
“i could get used to this,” she nods, folding her arms over her chest. “but it’s unrealistic. i will stay in my lane, actually. maybe f2 is the furthest i’ll get?”
“i’m not making it to f1 without you.”
-> 2022
she frowns, looking at her phone screen as chaos ensues in her living room. dalton and oscar are battling it out over a game of just dance, screams passing their lips as they continuously miss dance cues.
her team has just announced her entry on their socials, and the comments are less than ideal. there were a few supportive ones, but they are all from known figures in the sport who are technically obligated to put a positive word in.
“hey, you’re awfully quiet,” ciara says softly, crawling towards her end of the couch.
which is true, because a couple of minutes ago, she was hurling insults at oscar’s ability to deliver a convincing performance to beat dalton at a game of just dance.
she locks her phone, resting it on her stomach as she forces a grin to her face. “nothing. just looking at something.”
“no, something’s bothering you,” ciara frowns, sitting on her feet.
logan pops up behind the couch, leaning on the backrest. “is it the instagram post for your announcement?”
she smiles weakly, nodding. “did you read the comments they had on there? i’m a good driver,” she says softly, slightly discouraged by the comments she was unlucky enough to have read. “i worked hard to be considered for f1.”
“they will never care about that,” ciara says.
her eyes snap up to her younger sister. how naive can she be to think that ciara would have toned down her harsh words for once?
but ciara slumps her shoulders and continues to speak. “you know that,” ciara says, resting an elbow on the back of the couch. “but you were chosen to be in f1. it’s now up to you to prove them wrong.”
logan smiles, poking her cheek. “she’s right.”
“i know, but it’s just unfair. all this hate because i’m a girl? like i haven’t had enough of that since i started karting.”
“they’re always going to say the same things,” logan sighs. “but now you made it to the big league. you’re going to be amazing.”
she doesn’t notice the game is over. immediately, dalton tackles ciara and oscar is sitting on her feet.
“what ‘cha talking ‘bout?” oscar asks, grinning at them. upon meeting her downturned lips and sad eyes, he drops his smile immediately. almost as if he already knew.
and he actually does, suddenly remembering that she mentioned her team will announce her transition some time today. “oh. i’m sorry. they already posted it, haven’t they?”
she nods, pressing her lips together.
he pats her knee. “they’re not in f1. don’t let it get to you, mate.”
-> 2023
“look at me!” she shrieks, jogging out of her racing home, jumping in front of oscar and logan. sebastian follows shortly behind her with a small smile and a phone held up.
“oh, purple is your colour,” logan agrees as she twirls with her arms out to show off her racing suit. “look at mine.”
he copies her actions, twirling around for them. “oh, let’s go, williams driver!”
oscar laughs, covering his mouth before stopping abruptly when they stare at him blankly. “what?”
“show off your race suit, duh,” she says, giving him a knowing look. “it’s your first year as a racing driver! do it!”
“no. i was here last year,” oscar smiles, trying to wave off her request. but their stares gives him the impression that they will not let him pass without doing it.
so he slumps his shoulders with a sigh. he twirls around slowly, arms out to show off his race suit halfheartedly and sebastian’s laughter prominent above his friends’.
“cute friends,” sebastian laughs. he puts the phone down, handing it to the younger girl all suited up for the test session. “welcome to f1, guys.”
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1
#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#f1 x reader#oscar piastri x you#logan sargeant x you#f1 fem!driver#female driver#f1 female driver#formula 1#formula 1 female driver#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#vettel reincarnate
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
gen z!reader is this sweet, bubbly, bright ray of sunshine who could honestly do no wrong, so I'd love to see a fic where in a driver's meeting gen z!reader loses their shit and calls out the FIA for their blatant sexism and misogyny in front of everyone and everyone is shocked cause they've never seen them gets this mad before.
NO ONE LIKES A MAD WOMAN
pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (+ cameos from brundle, susie and buxton)
warnings: sexism. fia is fia'ing. swearing. my own unaccurate ruling of penalties (it's for the sake of the story, just go along with it). susie mothering. it wasn't sure to me who conducted the driver's briefing during this time so I just picked a random name from the many that I came across.
author's note: less comedic one this time, hope you enjoy it anyway!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Alright, thanks for clarifying, Checo.'' Derek concluded, glancing down at his journal to see what the next topic of discussion was.
The director scratched his voice before addressing the drivers again. ''Uhm, we also wanted to remind everyone to be wary of what they say in the media regarding our organization,'' he stated, ''the FIA has the feeling that there have been deliberate attacks on them the last few weeks and they are willing to give out penalties if it happens again.''
The drivers looked at each other, confused by the sudden declaration that the FIA has been receiving ''attacks'' from the drivers. ''Can you give an example, because I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'm confused.'' George spoke up, the others nodding along to his question.
Derek flipped through his papers, trying to find the notes his colleagues had given him regarding the ''offensive'' comments that had been made against them.
''Oh, here,'' he put on his reading glasses, holding the piece of paper farther from his face, ''the comment they're referring to was one made by… Y/N at the previous race.''
The young woman's head sprung up at the mention of her name, clueless as to how she could have upset the FIA. ''What? W-what did I say?'' She managed to stutter out, all the eyes on her making her feel uneasy.
''Uh, you were asked about the diversity in the sport and you said, and I quote: 'The FIA should do more regarding women in motorsport, there are still many things that need to be changed.' End quote.'' Derek answered her, putting his paper back in place.
Y/N frowned at the man. ''I don't see what's wrong with that, to be honest.'' She told him, failing to see how the FIA would feel this was a ''deliberate attack''.
The director sighed, already getting the suspicion the woman would not be happy with what he was about to say. ''Certain members of the board were offended by your words, because they saw it as you accusing them of being sexist.''
The silence in the room was deafening, every single person awaiting Y/N's reaction to Derek's clarification. The drivers took a glimpse at her, trying to read the indifferent expression on her face that didn't give much away about how she was feeling.
''They think I'm accusing them of being sexist? What I meant was that they should take more actions in encouraging young girls to get into racing- I don't understand how that would correlate to me calling them sexist.'' Her usual cheerful tone was replaced by a monotone voice that almost scared some of her colleagues.
Derek took a deep breath again. ''Well, they felt like you were insinuating it and they are offended by the alleged insinuation.''
''Just because they are offended doesn't mean they're right.'' She bit back, not missing a beat.
''I'm simply delivering their message, Y/N,'' the director told her politely, wanting to remind her that he's not the person she should be upset with, ''anyway- if you go up there and apologize for your comment, they're considering leaving it as a warning for you and also the others.'' He finished the list of notes they had given him.
The reaction from the room wasn't one he was expecting; absolute outrage.
''She shouldn't apologize for that neither should she be penalized for it.'' Sebastian was the first one to speak up, directly looking Derek in the eye.
The drivers agreed. ''Yeah, it's called freedom of speech.'' Max added, also not seeing why Y/N should go down there and say sorry to the members of the board.
''Like I said earlier, I'm simply delivering their message.'' Derek repeated himself, feeling the tension and frustration growing in the small space.
''But don't you see how ridiculous this is?'' Sebastian rebutted, hoping the man at the front could at least agree with them and say that it was indeed a weird request.
Derek shook his head. ''I'm just the middle man, Seb,'' he sighed, turning his head towards the quiet female driver, ''Y/N, make it easier for yourself and go up there after the meeting, you don't want to receive a penalty for something like this.''
''I'm not apologizing.'' Her voice comes out strong, not in an aggressive way, but in a manner that lets everyone know she's not backing down. ''Give me as many penalties as you want, I'm not accepting them.'' She crossed her arms, indicating she was sticking to her words, almost stubbornly.
The other drivers looked on proudly, glad she was standing by her belief and didn't give in simply because it would make everything ''easier''. Lewis gave her a nod, subtly letting her know he supported her and had her back.
''Alright, then that will result in a fine of a number that is yet to be determined.'' Derek picked up his pen and wrote down that she would not come by their office, already knowing his colleagues wouldn't be happy with it.
''Just so you know- I'm not paying that.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly.
Derek looked up from his journal. ''If you refuse to pay the fine, we can either add a grid-place penalty or a time penalty.'' He recited the rule as if he had done it a million times before.
''Derek, this is stupid,'' Kimi decided to voice his opinion, ''the race shouldn't be affected, because of a comment she made that had nothing to do with racing in the first place.'' He defended her, allying behind her stance to not accept any of the penalties they give her.
''I'm just doing my job, Kimi.''
''I also want to just do my job, Derek, which is racing, but these ridiculous rules to silence me prevent me from doing that.'' Y/N argued his response, just wanting him to see her point of view.
The director's hand went over his face, seemingly wiping his agitation away. ''No one is trying to silence you, Y/N.'' He quickly answered.
''That's why all the other drivers receive penalties whenever they question the FIA, right?'' Her comment must have shut him up as he solely put his pen down without saying another word about the matter. ''Yeah, that's what I thought.''
Y/N felt her presence wasn't longer necessary as she stood up from her chair, ready to leave the room and join her engineering team in preparation for the upcoming race. However, Derek felt different about that. ''The briefing isn't over yet, Y/L. Sit back down, please.''
''I'll see you at the next meeting, Derek.'' She ignored his plea and walked towards the door.
The director stood up from his desk at the front. ''Y/N, if you leave before it's done, the board will-''
''The board can kiss my ass.''
''Y/N Y/L RECEIVES A 20-PLACE GRID PENALTY AHEAD OF THE 2021 SPANISH GRAND PRIX DUE TO DAMAGING REMARKS AGAINST THE FIA''
''FIA RE-EVALUATING Y/N Y/N's PENALTY AFTER BACKLASH''
''FIA SUSPENDS GRID PENALTY OF Y/N Y/L DUE TO AN ERROR''
The day after the driver's briefing had been quite eventful to say the least. As soon as the FIA announced that she had been given a penalty, the backlash from drivers, fans and reporters started.
Lewis had condemned their decision claiming it was based on nothing and that nothing about her comment was an attack on the organization. His teammate, Valtteri, followed him in his opinion stating: ''Drivers should be able to say what they want to say, she doesn't deserve a penalty for that.''
Sky Sports F1 reporter, Martin Brundle, also came to the driver's defense. ''If we're going to punish drivers for stating their opinions, we might as well get rid of the entire sport, especially if what they're saying isn't far from the truth.''
After finishing P5 in the race, Y/N spoke to Will Buxton in her post-race interview. ''You must be very happy with your result today, considering you almost had to start from the very back of the grid.''
''I'm content with today's race, obviously would have loved a podium but Mercedes was better today,'' she chuckled, ''yeah, it wasn't fun waking up to that news, but I'm happy that it was reversed and the support I received was just- wow, I'm very grateful for everyone.''
''According to some sources, it got pretty heated in the driver's briefing on friday- would you like to clarify?'' Will asked her.
A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. ''I would just like to forget about it, moving on is the best thing to do right now.'' She smoothly avoided the question, figuring she shouldn't make the FIA more mad by airing out all their business.
''Alright, thank you so much for talking to us, Y/N and congratulations on your race today.'' He nodded, bidding her goodbye.
On her way back to her team's hospitality, she was stopped by none other than Susie Wolff. ''Lewis told us what happened during the briefing- I'm very proud of you for standing up for yourself, not everyone could have done that.''
''It was so awful, Susie,'' Y/N hugged the older woman, ''it's like they just wanted to give me some sort of punishment- I don't even want to know what would have happened if I went down there by myself.'' Susie rubs her back at her words, also not wanting to think about what could have gone down.
''It's okay now, honey,'' they pulled apart, Susie's hand staying on her shoulder, ''by the way- did you really say that the board could kiss your ass?''
Y/N laughed at her question, excitedly nodding her head. ''At first I wanted to say something like 'the board can stick that penalty right up their ass’ but I needed a cool getaway so I opted for something shorter.''
''Atta girl''
taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @formulazeesworld @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123-blog @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis
if you want to be added to the taglist, fill in the form!
#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 x oc#f1!drivers x fem!driver#f1 female driver#female f1 driver#formula one fics#formula 1 oc
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader
Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor
Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Lando knew that there was something between the three of them.
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them.
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them.
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on.
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man.
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out.
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.”
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.”
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you.
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.”
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door.
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.”
“We?”
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over.
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side.
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.”
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.”
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.”
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him.
“And why are the two of you here?”
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall.
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone.
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him.
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.”
Lando leaned his head back and groaned.
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.”
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.”
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!”
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando.
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.”
All he got was a glare back.
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.”
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?”
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.”
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped.
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.”
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.”
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy.
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027.
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out.
“But George.”
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged.
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.”
The group of four winced at the memory.
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away.
Lewis looked a bit pale.
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.”
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?”
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”
Lando ran a hand down his face.
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?”
George cocked his head.
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.”
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!”
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.”
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.”
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories.
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath.
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?”
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him.
“Yes! Do you?”
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early.
“No.”
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder.
“Why would you do that!”
Now Lewis was the one whining.
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.”
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour.
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.”
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.”
All eyes landed on Oscar.
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?”
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”
An audible gulp was heard.
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost.
“Aha!”
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis.
“What!”
He held his phone up with a contact showing.
“We call Seb.”
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.”
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans.
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better.
A sigh was heard through the speaker.
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.”
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.”
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.”
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.”
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away.
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone.
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?”
Their silence had answered for them.
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand.
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!”
“Hey!”
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton.
“Guys, we can’t ask them.”
“What!” Pierre yelled.
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.”
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said.
“Ask them what?”
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day.
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio.
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”
He took a sip of his Red Bull.
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?”
“Hey!”
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.”
“Thank you Charles.”
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped.
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.”
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits.
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.”
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them.
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them.
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.”
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought.
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him.
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head.
“Thank you schatje.”
This time, a whine came from you.
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms.
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips.
“WHAT?”
You turned back to the group.
“Are you all fine?”
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.”
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out.
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.”
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?”
Max rolled his eyes. “No.”
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched.
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.”
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.”
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up.
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!”
You nodded. “Yes.”
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?”
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie.
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.”
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders.
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.”
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.”
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group.
“You won’t tell anyone right?”
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were.
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.”
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match.
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?”
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.”
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio.
“Then . . . who knows?”
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count.
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.”
You pulled out his fingers and counted.
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.”
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out.
Max smirked.
“Oh, and Seb.”
There was silence amongst the group.
“Oh he is so dead.”
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!”
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!”
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.”
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?”
“I am not giving you his number Lando.”
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.”
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone.
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?”
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it.
“Nah.”
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#lestappen x reader#lestappen x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#charles leclerc#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
monaco pt. 1 - charles leclerc
summary: y/n is new to ferrari and is working very closely with charles, so it's inevitable that they fall right?
a/n: the outcomes of these races are fictional!! they're altered to fit the story, and there's no specific face claim!
PART TWO PART THREE
liked by sergioramos, ynusername, 433, and 4, 982, 011 others
scuderiaferrari Your Scuderia Ferrari Formula drivers for 2024 have delivered in Jeddah; Charles Leclerc finished P3, Y/N L/N finished P4. Big points for the team and much to learn 💪
ynusername ❤️🤍
liked by scuderiaferrari
user78312 Now someone fire the people in the pit, y/n ROBBED of a podium i'm so fr
user99203 this is genuinely my fav team partnership!!
user32164 I can't wait to see how they perform together
user80381 it's such a peculiar lineup, but it's perfect
liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc, and 445, 983 others
ynusername Pleased to finish in fourth, I promise to do better. Congratulations @ charlesleclerc ❤️🏎️
user17352 "i promise to do better" y/n ur gonna make me cry
charlesleclerc Great race 👊
liked by ynusername
user90313 IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT!!!
user67392 i know it's her first race w ferrari, but if they fuck my girl up again... #y/ntoredbull
scuderiaferrari We're all so proud of you Y/N ❤️
user88302 call me delusional but she put a heart next to charles' name 😏😏
user79334 she also put a car, are we gonna speculate that too???
liked by ynusername, user33478, user89323, and 547 others
user17363 y/n and charles leaving the saudi gp together 💞
user67424 girlfriend or girl that's a friend?
user93843 HAHAHA
user02341 y/n liked omg
user94834 I know they're teammates, but they'd be so cute together
liked by neymar, scuderiaferrari, ynusername, and 5, 894, 449 others
charlesleclerc Very proud to start the season with a P3 finish, and to help the team. Also very proud of my teammate @ ynusername, who raced amazingly today.
landonorris Surely you give her the trophy
charlesleclerc No need, she'll win many this season 🤣🤣
ynusername Thank you Charlie
user76382 CHARLIE??? NEW CHARLES NICKNAME UNLOCKED
user89302 charles' gotta watch out, y/n is gonna tear him up
user68332 What a race, Prince of Monaco 🤩
liked by user66739, user89932, scuderiaferrari, and 1, 982, 734, others
f1 Charles Leclerc and Y/N L/N arriving to Albert Park in style 😎
user93842 Y/N WEARING RED PANTS!!
user12928 what??
user83901 charles has a superstitution to wear red pants, and it looks like he's got y/n in on it too 😂
user92832 How can two people be so fine
user87382 y/n l/n is getting her first f1 podium this weekend 🕯️🙏
liked by f1, ynusername, olliebearman, and 4, 983, 221, others
scuderiaferrari WHAT A QUALIFIER! Y/N L/N WILL START ON POLE POSITION FOR TOMORROWS RACE IN MELBOURNE. She is the first woman to achieve this milestone!
f1 Something Special
user80323 Ferrari don't fuck her up again
user12357 POLE FUCKING POSITION LETS GO
user77443 when max finally has competition 😇🌈💐🤗
user90323 Max genuinely needs to watch his back bc she's gonna take the championship
liked by user56834, sadiomane, lec, and 1, 882, 304 others
scuderiaferrari The eyes Chico, they never lie 💫 Y/N (P1), and Charles (P4) are ready for Australia.
user90383 Y/N's shoulders must be heavy from carrying all hopes of ferrari
user89032 and points too
user67393 COME ON Y/N!!!
USER33943 The race is gonna be mental, and I'm here for it
liked by serenawilliams, sadiomane, cristiano, and 6, 873, 944 others
scuderiaferrari And in what is her second ever Formula 1 race, Y/N L/N has won the Australian Grand Prix for 2024!
user89043 HOLY SHITTTT
user79334 oh my god max has been overtaken
user66730 About bloody time
user93112 Y/N IS THE MOMENT!
liked by charlesleclerc, danielricciardo, user67474, and 4, 878, 932 others
ynusername Y/N L/N Grand Prix Winner has a nice ring to it. LETS FUCKING GOOOOO
danielricciardo Trailblazer 🔥🚒🧑🚒
landonorris Can't even be mad about coming 4th when you're first
charlesleclerc So proud of you amor 🫀
user43840 AMOR???
user90394 anatomical heart? wtf charles 😭
scuderiaferrari Our Y/N 👑
user15473 step aside @ maxverstappen, the queen has arrived
liked by ynusername
liked by ynusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 2, 776, 832 others
landonorris Very happy to have picked up points for Mclaren today, but all attention should be on my best friend @ ynusername. She's had my back since we were karting at six, and it's incredible to see her make history. She's the hardest worker I've ever met, and is the most deserving person to have a seat in F1. (And yes, she's already bullied me about beating me to a win).
ynusername my races to win ratio - 2:1. your races to win ratio - 107:0
landonorris Don't make me delete this entire post
ynusername i'm kidding (not really), love u lala
user89823 now this would be a powerful couple
user99311 NOOO HER AND CHARLES PLEASE
user56821 this looks more supportive bf than supportive bff
liked by user78721, user92834, user55738, and 20, 872
user13452 not the entire grid partying after y/n's first f1 win
user88734 off topic but y/n looks so fine in that first pic holy shit
user45679 They all love her so much omg
user73292 y/n and lando this... Y/N AND CHARLES COME ON
user66382 Their chemistry is fucking insane i agree
liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, and 2, 656, 737 others
charlesleclerc Australia was incredible. Congratulations to the best teammate @ ynusername, history maker.
ynusername Thank you Charlie!
liked by charlesleclerc
user67382 that second photo is 100% not a selfie two single people would take.
user89293 Brother is in love with y/n
user67262 tbf we all are
user98933 charles x y/n fans wake up, new content dropped
user23348 Sooooo is this a cheeky soft launch...
user67354 is y/n the girl from the party charles 😏😏
sorry guys this is gonna have to be two parts bc of the stupid 30 images rule 😭
Let me know if you like this!! I love getting comments and messages :))
PART TWO
#charles leclerc#charles lecrelc#formula one#formula 1#f1 drivers#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x teammate#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#ferrari#scuderia ferrari#ferrari f1#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#social media au#f1#japanese gp 2024#formula racing#f1 2024
515 notes
·
View notes
Note
can u do a charles leclerc x reader but the reader is like alexandra’s older sister pls pls pls i love my girl alex so much
HIS HEART THAT LIES WITH THE OTHER GIRL ( charles leclerc. )
charles leclerc x mleux!reader
charles and alexandra are good friends and feelings are starting to develop, but her older sister happened to be the one to catch his eye instead.
warnings: google translate french (please feel free to correct anything that's wrong)
authors note: the request was a little vague so I took some creative liberty, which honestly I enjoyed very much so THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST <333 I love alexandra so much too, she's so gorgeous!!! also taking a break after this because of my thumb (I do have a verstappen imagine already written so that's going to be out soon enough)
BEING AN OLDER SISTER MEANS MAKING SACRIFICES for your younger siblings. she had felt throughout her life that maybe she had been a little too selfish. it felt at times like she was the baby of the two because she didn't act as her role model. moments growing up that she should've taken the fall for alex because that's what it means to be an older sister, but she didn't. she hadn't thought of her younger sister as much as she should've. not a day went by that she hadn't felt guilty for developing feelings for the guy alexandra liked, the guy her sister fell for first.
alexandra had known him for longer than she had, yet she would realize his attention was elsewhere. his frequent trips to the house they both thought were originally because he really liked alex and wanted their parents to like him.
but alexandra was oblivious to where his heart really lied.
stolen glances from across the room, eyes lingering longer than they ever should've to begin with because maybe that's why it started in the first place. his damn, green eyes half-lidded and fluttering lashes every time he blinked, and leaning his head on his hand just staring at her from the other side of the room. a glance over her shoulder told her all she needed to know as she saw the monegasque driver eyeing her up and down. all she could do was turn away and hope alexandra wouldn't notice.
and she wouldn't, for the moment. waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face, he blamed it as being lost in thoughts about strategies for the next race. they laughed, simply joking it off and talking about how he should take a rest from thinking about his career.
but his attention kept slipping back to her. though he tried not to get lost in her appearance, he would fail greatly every time he was even near her. he didn't even have to be in the same room for him to be dazing off, thinking about how she would look better by his side. but he also felt the guilt she had, maybe not the same because he wasn't alexandra's older sibling developing feelings for the guy she liked.
but he had felt guilty. he would be lying if he said that he didn't like the girl at first. she was pretty, for starters, her magnetic smile and radiant personality was what had originally drawn him in. he felt bad to say that wasn't the reason he decided to stay.
it was no doubt alex was a nice girl, in fact the nicest he had ever met in his life and the most welcoming family was right behind her. and that's when he first saw her. after hanging out various times around monaco, occasionally sneaking back to his place, they decided it was time they met her side of the family. only then did alex not realize the mistake she was about to make.
when the door opened, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, alexandra had no clue at the time, but her sister did. she nervously laughed it off as she stepped aside so alex could pull charles inside with her. the day they met was the closest they ever were in proximity as he walked past her holding the door. the addicting perfume he wore wafted by as he was pulled along into the living room where their parents were.
throughout the whole evening, he struggled to keep his gaze away from her. alexandra wouldn't notice for a long time, and by a long time, she meant it was months.
months of stolen glances, slipping into the kitchen alone with her just to help with dishes because he was ‘such a gentleman,’ but really all he was doing was just an attempt and excuse to get close to her. grazing arms as they stood next to each other despite her assuring him it was fine. every time it occured, which was more often than it should've been, he would somehow get closer.
she didn't mind because over the course of those few months, she had grown quite fond of his gaze on her, or exchanging slight touches whenever they would pass dishes between one another. when he would've acted oblivious to how to clean them when he had first offered to help, sharing laughs that only grew louder every interaction. it had evolved from awkward explanations and silence, to small talk and then casual conversations in their native languages.
but one day, everything changed. a normal conversation turned into something different when he grabbed her wrist with his cold hands covered in water and suds from the dish soap.
his face was serious and she almost didn't hear him when he uttered the words, “je t’aime bien.” (I like you).
“charles.” she only managed his name as she froze with his words, her heart dropping in her chest. this couldn't, shouldn't, be happening. he should like alexandra, not her.
“je sais,” he started as he watched her mouth part, but no words fell from her lips, “mais je t’aime beaucoup.” (I know, but I like you a lot).
“mais ma sœur,” her other hand covered his that held her to him, pursing her lips before continuing, “Elle t’aime bien.” (but my sister, she likes you.)
he nods, muttering in french under his breath stuff that she couldn't hear. she shook her head, slipping her hands from his grasp, going back to the dishes in silence, as did he.
from the door frame, unknown to them, alexandra watched with her arms crossed. when she first saw them together, she was happy they were getting along because she didn't want animosity between the pair, and her older sister never liked the guys she dated before. but she realized far too late the way charles looked at her. the way he looked at her sister was different from the way he looked at her. a spark in his eyes and more creases when he smiled. it was genuine interest as he multitasked the dishes and listened to her talk like he could do it forever. she understood, her sister was like a magnet of different energy, one that alexandra possessed, but not on her sister’s level.
the sight, and hearing his words, in front of her confirmed what she had been suspicious of for weeks. she had finally followed his gaze to her, whether she was sat across the couch from the two, or if she had sauntered off to another room. whenever she would fold laundry with them in the room, how charles would always offer to help. she didn't notice a lot the first time, how her sister gazed between her and charles like she was going to notice his behavior. how bad his folding was, so much so that she had to take the clothes from his hands and show him how to properly do it, and how gentle he handled every item.
it wasn't like he wasn't sweet with alex, but she began to notice how much care he put into his actions that involved her. while it hurt at first because she was so deeply involved with him, she realized that maybe, just maybe, that her sister deserved him more than she did.
because from her view, her older sister gave up everything for her baby sister. even if she didn't recognize it herself, alexandra knew that over the years, she had done more for her and she didn't know how to return the favor at the time. she didn't know what could match the level she set herself.
but seeing the way they genuinely clicked, she knew that this one time, she would be the one to have to make a sacrifice. it didn't mean that her older sister was no longer mature, it just meant that she had a way to pay her back for all she had done. if that meant giving up the guy she had begun to love, she would do it. she would do it to see her sister happy for once because this was the first time in a while that she was. she wanted it to stay that way.
so when early morning came the next day, when charles had long walked out the door the previous night and sent a small smile they thought alex didn't notice, she sat down at the island. arms crossed on the cold granite counters as she sat on the cushioned barstool, watching her sister dance about the kitchen making breakfast.
she knew if she didn't speak up now, she would never, and their love story would've never had the potential to bloom.
“je sais.” (I know).
“que veux-tu dire?” (what do you mean?) her sister chuckled as she poured a glass of orange juice, looking at her with her brow raised as she turned back to the fridge.
“je sais que charles t’aime bien.” (I know charles likes you). she froze, the cold air leaking from the fridge as she stood with the orange juice jug in her hands before regaining composure and continuing on with her actions.
“je lui ai dit non, je sais que tu l'aimes bien,” (I told him no, I know you like him). she stood in front of alexandra, fearing that her sister had grown angry with her, but she knew she couldn't control charles’ feelings, and neither could her sister.
“tu aurais dû dire que tu l'aimais en retour,” (you should have said you liked him back). alexandra leaned closer, her hand raising in a gesture to her that she made a mistake by shying away, “j'irai bien.” (i will be fine).
she shook her head, the glass of orange juice on the counter clutched in her hand, “ce n'est pas juste pour toi.” (it's not fair to you).
“mais il te rend heureux,” (he makes you happy though). she sighed with a small smile, leaning back in the barstool, “dit lui.” (tell him).
“okay,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, reaching for her phone across the counter to text charles and tell him to come over, “il est en route.” (he's on his way).
“bien.” she smiled, standing up and leaving her in the kitchen.
her heart was racing. was she really going to do this? she had turned him down less than a day ago and now she was going to simply accept his abrupt confession. she rubbed her fingers to her temple and sighed, leaning down against the counter as she ate.
she didn't have to wait long to hear a familiar knock pattern he did to alert anyone that it was him.
she walked to the door slowly, like she could lose her balance if she went any quicker. cracking her knuckles with anxiety, she hesitantly opened the door to see his smiling face as if she didn't reject him.
say it. say it.
it repeated in her head as she took a deep breath while he stood confused. her face began to flush and he was wondering when he was going to be let in.
one last deep breath did the trick.
“je vous aime aussi,” (I like you too). she blurted out so quickly, he looked at her with a confused smile and a tilted head.
“qu'est-ce que c'était, chérie?” (what was that, darling?) his voice was teasing and she knew he knew what she said because now he was just messing with her.
“je vous aime aussi.”
“bien,” his hand wrapped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hand while their lips collided. her eyes widening in shock as her hands met the sides of his face, teetering on the edge of his hair.
when they finally parted, deep breaths being the only thing heard as they simply smiled giddily at each other like teenagers. he twirled her hair on his finger as he looked at her with such deep admiration, more than she would've ever thought. the sacrifice her younger sister made paid her back ten times over, and the only things she could do was either just hug her in appreciation, or set her up with one of charles’ friends.
—
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves
proofread by @foreveralbon <3
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#cl16 edit#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fluff#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#cl16#cl16 fanfic
892 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
edebiyatasigi
İsimsiz
simik-actually
Simik
bigcomicfan
Some Random Artist
saipov
Bnkr
wendycord
holy guacamole