#maybe….they really DID develop for Charles……… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheriladycl01 · 2 months

Note

Would you be up for writing a fanfic with Lando or Max x reader where reader also races but due to the training and harsh training her team and trainer are putting her through develops an ED (common among competitive sports and I’ve got experience 😭) maybe Reader faints or her bf finds out? No problem if not 😘 love your writing!

Those inward struggles - Max Verstappen x Driver! Reader

Plot: After having to change you diet and do more work after struggling in Singapore you spend a year on strict training away from your boyfriends knowledge. What happens when a year on and people are noticing how much more exhausted your looking after each race.

Warnings: Eating Disorder, Reader Being Sick

Singapore and Qatar 2022 was extremely hard for you. Your body temperature in the car didn't regulate that well and you lost way more weight than any other driver.

You new that the 2023 season was going to be even harder with where the races were placed in the year.

Your physician wanted you to keep the weight off. The lower your body mass, the less you'd struggle with the heat. That was their thought process and that's what they deemed best for you as a woman. So of course, you trusted the team's decisions and you started to train more, and eating in a calorie deficit.

They'd come up with a plan for you to loose a safe amount in a safe amount of time, however it almost felt like a competition and you wanted to be as ready as possible.

At first it was hard, you craved sugar and grease the most but eventually once the majority was out of your system the vegetables and fruits started to taste like when you have a sip of that half stagnant water at 3am when your body decided to lower your thirst bar all the way down.

Max as a driver had also seen how much more you were with your personal trainer, and how it didn't just stop when you got home as you would often be in your home gym.

You'd serve yourself less and meals than him and he noticed these little things. Of course he did, he'd been obsessed with you since he was a 13 year old and both of you met in karting.

You started dating a year before he got into F1 quite literally being the definition of childhood romance. But this did mean that he knew you like the back of his hand.

"Baby, how about a sweet treat?" he asks holding up your fav type of cookie waving it in front of your face.

"I really shouldn't, I think the team wouldn't be happy if they found out I was eating more than i should!" you explain to him, continuing to wash the dishes from earlier that night.

"But... you didn't have much for dinner and you skipped lunch!" he asks remembering what you'd eaten throughout the day.

"Oh? So your keeping tabs on me now?" you ask looking him over with a soft yet teasing frown.

"Well, when your with me for a good portion of the day I notice" he grumbles making you turn your head to him at that tone, it wasn't one he used often.

"Huh?" you say leaving the dishes fully in the sink before placing a hand on your hip.

"Look, It's not just me noticing it but your not healthy right now!" Max offers and you turn back round to do the washing up.

Your trainer said you might feel a little tired and icky while you were on such a strict diet but once you'd got to your goal weight you'd feel better.

"Please just eat the cookie!" he smiles and you roll your eyes. You take the cookie and finish it off under his watchful eye. It tasted so good, but you almost gagged at how heavy the chocolate felt at the back of your throat and how you could feel the chunkiness of the chewed batter.

There wasn't that fresh aftertaste you been getting recently from the various fruits and veges you'd been relying on to get you eating something.

You gagged at something that used to be a delicacy too you, something that would excite you. However you finished it off to please Max. Once he was satisfied you had your filling he explained he was going out to a set with Lando, Daniel and Charles.

You'd already said you wanted to stay home today.

The minute he was out the door you were in the bathroom getting the sugary sweet treat out of your body, feeling disgusting from having had it.

The guilt was eating away at you the minute you had it, you knew just how unhappy the trainer would be. You spent the rest of the evening in the gym, weighing yourself before and after the session.

To your dismay there was no improvement and you sat in the gym crying over you predicament.

It was time for the 2023 Qatar Grand Prix, you were already struggling just walking round the paddock in the areas that didn't have aircon. When you'd done your track walk, you could feel the damp sweat on areas of your body you didn't know was possible.

However, you pushed and pushed yourself through the whole weekend, you drunk lots of water and made sure to keep up with the exercising and kept eating to a minimum.

When you'd got in the car for the first practice your hard work seemed to pay of, coming P4. Again in qualifying you'd had a fastest lap in Q2 and split the Mercedes up Q3 coming P3 behind Max and George. Both of these weren't too bad, it was in short bursts that didn't make you too hot.

However as the weekend moved forward, it was obvious to your team, to Max and to the media that you were becoming more and more exhausted. A lot of people noted that your tailored race suit was starting to bag in places it shouldn't and that you had sunken areas on your face, making you look all the more exhausted.

The Sprint shootout was awful, you placing 9th fastest overall, which compared to your earlier racing was no good for you or your team.

You only managed to move up one place to P8 in the Sprint, meaning you were in the points but you were taken to the medical tent after reporting feeling dizzy and your sight spotting.

Max had headed over to the Aston Martin garage asking for you, all the mechanics just saying you were still with medical. He rushed over, quicker than his car on a flying lap as no-body actually knew what was wrong with you.

"Y/N?" you'd heard as he'd come storming in looking around for you.

"I'm in here!" you said and he came over taking your hand in his.

"What's going on, what's wrong?" he asks looking over you.

"Nothing, just had a bit of a migraine. Apparently not enough water!" you lie, knowing the doctors were still doing tests but they said you were free to leave.

You'd left, he'd comforted you at the hotel making sure you had everything you could possibly need before you both slept away the tire of the day.

Sunday of course was a shit show. Medical still hadn't fully worked out what was wrong with you and they were debating pulling you from the race. You'd refused saying you were fine to race.

You were 20 laps in when your vision started to blur until ringing in your head occurred.

You tried to keep up with the fluids from your drinks tube but they were just heating up along with everything else in the car.

"Y/N are you okay. Medical have just deemed you should be racing. We want to retire you" your engineer comes through at lap 50.

"7 more laps, I'll be fine" you groan. You'd managed to stick to P4 for the majority of the race. But now that vision in your left eye was pretty poor you were taking turns a little more hesitantly meaning you were down in P6.

You defended from Ocon like your life depended on it, and finally pulled up to the area where the cars sit when the race it over. You sit in the car, in silence trying to get your vision back and stop shaking.

You body ran cold, you were shivering now and could feel the cold sweat in your suit, you wanted to reach up and take your helmet off more than anything but your arms didn't obey.

So you just sat there, until some Aston Martin mechanics came through with water. They helped you out and up handing you a bottle of water. But with the ringing not having stopped your vision completely went as you fell back onto the hard ground of the track.

Max once he'd found out his team and your team and pretty much everyone had kept you fainting from him a secret he had yelled, a lot, at anyone and everyone he could.

Even Lando and Oscar in the cool down room had to be at the receiving end of his wrath.

After his podium that he had tried to make as quick as possible he was right with you. Yelling at everyone while making sure you were getting the correct medical attention.

When he found out the reason behind you fainting and the fact that you drove the last few laps half sighted he was back to MAD MAX, and oh boy it wasn't a pretty sight.

He couldn't believe your team who were supposed to make sure you were in the best health had actually been hindering you and not helping you.

To say the he and Rupert his own personal trainer would be taking over from now on and he'd be hiring a private nutritionist to get you back on track to your starting F1 weight in 2022.

He loved you and would do anything for you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

1K notes · View notes

amaranthineghost · 1 month

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

925 notes · View notes

sofs16 · 5 months

Text

tissue love

pairing ferrari engineer x charles leclerc

warnings a few point of view changes but there’s bold text that would indicate it

note would be a nice christmas gift if you guys followed my x account lecls16 :,)

ynslife

liked by charles_leclerc, and 974 others ynslife last gp of the season ❤️ so glad to be part of this team!

view all 28 comments ferrariloverz best ferrari engineer !! user it’s the end of the season and charles is still lurking in her likes 😭

charles leclerc has been admiring yn yln from afar for the last 5 months. she was charming, a little shy, fun to be around with, and absolutely beautiful to charles.

he hadn’t yet mustered up the courage to ask her if she wanted to hang out with him; more so on a date with him. the most charles has ever gotten was a 15 minute chat with her as they both went to the wrong meeting and had the wrong time. ironically it was the perfect time for charles to talk to the young blonde.

oh! and also the time charles stalked her instagram and accidentally followed her. she followed back within the hour.

anyways, today was the last gp. it wasn’t exactly his year, nor ferrari’s year, but today was also the last day before he most likely wouldn’t see yn for another 2 months. or last working day as the ferrari team will have a christmas party tomorrow night.

charles put his balaclava on and saw yn giggling with the other engineers as she covered her mouth. they both made eye contact and she smiled and held up a thumbs up to charles.

he was ready

the night of the christmas party, he could already see yn’s bright red shoes peeking out of the photobooth.

the party was held at a house and there was so much red that charles felt a little ‘fomo’ with the lack of red he was wearing as he was just in a simple pair of jeans and a white shirt.

he waited outside the photo booth with no one in line too busy talking and drinking, hoping that yn would notice him and maybe even take a few with him.

you did.

you sat at the edge of the seat, moving the curtain to the side while waiting for the photos to develop. you saw a looming figure and looked up to see charles. you hadn’t talked much but he was a talented man and incredibly kind.

“hi, charles!” you smiled to him “hello, yn! you look good — not to be weird by saying that! but you… get me, right?” he rambled as you giggled “thank you, charles! yes i get you” you chuckled “you clean up well” you added

he shook it off with a laugh “do you want to take a photo?” you shuffled to the end of the booth and he sat with you. you smiled at each other and you pressed the button before doing multiple series’ of goofy poses.

after a few minutes you both took a moment to laugh at the outcome. neither of you left the other’s side. that night you were glued to the hip with charles that even carlos wiggled his eyebrows at the monégasque, unbeknownst to you.

you even sat together at the dinner table and bumped shoulders while the others cracked jokes.

but what really was the highlight of your night was the games. specifically the tissue drop game.

the host of the night asked all single women and men to go to the middle of the room for the games. you still stood beside charles and so, you both ended up being partners despite other of your colleagues asking if he wanted to be partners with them.

he shook his head with a smile and said he was already partners with you. blush crept onto your cheeks every time your fingers would brush against his.

the mechanics made you burn ferrari red. ‘we will drop a tissue and you and your pair must both catch it… in between your lips’.

charles was trying his best not to sweat it.

charles was nodding along with the words going over his head. he might be able to kiss you tonight, even through a tissue. the thought of it sent him through a spiral “are you okay with this” he whispered to you, leaning closer to your ear.

you nodded with a smile, feeling a little giddy.

the both of you were the last pair. only 2 of 12 pairs had successfully caught the tissue between their lips. the other 10 just laughed the kiss of with a friendly slap on the arm.

you stood in front of charles, just a little bit shorter, and he stood in front of you as the host made their way in between. obviously all eyes were on the both of you.

you with charles leclerc.

“one…” you sucked in a breath “two…” he shuffled on his feet and you both screwed your eyes shut “three!” the tissue dropped and it hung on just on the bottom of both of your lips. the top part feeling electrified as you both stood the frozen in that position.

the whole room’s cheers and shrieks were faded out and you both opened your eyes. you could only feel him and thoughts of him were swirling in your head.

he couldn’t think straight. your perfume was infiltrating his mind. your shaky hand was touching his elbow. and the clink of your red shoes as you stopped tiptoeing and took the tissue. “we said it’s enough guys! damn this is a new match” the host chuckled as the pair laughed. he returned to his seat and pulled out your chair for you, holding up a thumbs up to make sure you were okay, and you were.

that night charles had the courage to text you.

ynslife

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,684 others tagged: charles_leclerc, and scuderiaferrari ynslife glad to have spent the season with such a fun team ❤️

view all 584 comments

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

[ liked by ynslife ]

user1 is that yn and charles in the last slide?!?

carlossainz55 I have an extra tissue if you need ❤️

⤷ ynslife ill be sure to shove it up your mouth!!

⤷carlossainz55 tranquila! calm down! user37 yn’s posts are just full of ferrari gratitude and red posts AHAHAH

[ liked by ynslife ]

scuderiaferrari 🤧😏❤️

ynslife

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,338 others

ynslife SOMEONE had to physically hold me back from buying all the vogue issues 😞

view all 372 comments

carlossainz55 is she hard to hold back charles_leclerc ? :)

⤷ charles_leclerc 🫥 … yes

user48 how do you feel after being the vogue queen of ferrari with your fits? 🎤

⤷ ynslife too tiring. have to dress up lil carlitos and charlie 😝

⤷ charles_leclerc hey!

charles_leclerc

liked by 13,594,292 others

charles_leclerc Last 2023 picture dump🤍

view all 4,596,339 comments

ynslife oh mygod

ynslife I GOT HARDLAUNCHED 🥹

ynslife and now i have 100 angry girl dms 🤯

⤷ charles_leclerc Noooooo! guys stop:(

ynslife

liked by charles_leclerc, and 183,383 others

ynslife back to work with the only dmer who matters ❤️

view all 318,393 comments

charles_leclerc Can you answer me please, Amour 🥹

⤷ ynslife OOPS SORRY LOVEU

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles leclerc fanfic #social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader

721 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 3 months

Text

ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

you and charles stare at one another, eyes wide as you freeze in your respective spots of the kitchen: you with a whisk in hand and him with a bowl and an egg.

“what did you just say?” charles asks slowly, afraid to move any muscle in his body. maybe if he stayed this still, he could go back to 30 seconds ago when you hadn’t said what you said.

you tilt your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows. “did i say something?”

knowing damn well you did. he had been threatening to hurl the raw egg at you when you started rambling and listing out reasons why he should not. in a fit of pleads, the first reason you had come up with is: ‘because i love you’. which, in hindsight, is a pretty damning reason not to throw a raw egg at your head.

but with the way charles has reacted to your statement, it seems like that that is not the route you should have taken. you should have said something along the lines of you being best friends; it’s also a good reason not to throw an egg across the room.

“you said something.”

“i really don’t recall.”

charles moves his head back a little, blinking rapidly at you. “i’m pretty sure you said that–“

“okay, okay!” you cry, putting the whisk down on the island of his kitchen. “i did! i said what i said. but i don’t know why i said that!”

you would think that being friends half your life would give you a pass to say ‘i love you’. apparently not. charles still stands where he is with his bowl and egg, gaping wordlessly at you out of shock.

perhaps saying ‘i love you’ to one of your longest friends isn’t acceptable when your feelings reflect the phrase in a way you haven’t been able to understand your whole life. or just maybe it’s absurd to say when he’s got a girlfriend — a girlfriend sleeping in a bedroom not further than 20 metres from both of you.

feelings that have festered and developed since you were 17; that you cannot act on because charles has not gone long enough without a girlfriend for you to make a move on him and feel morally right about it. just when you think that enough time has passed after his breakup, charles comes forward to introduce you to a new girlfriend — one that he’s picked up while trying to collect himself somewhere far from home.

“you do not know why you said that? you just say things without thinking?” charles asks in a hushed whisper, looking over his shoulder to where the room door is closed. “seriously?”

“yes!” you shriek in disbelief. it’s not too long ago that you’ve had to bear the consequence of your running mouth. “remember when i said that george looks cute? in front of his girlfriend?”

charles smiles slightly, giggling softly at the memory. “ah, she didn’t talk to you for how long?”

“3. up to now, she does not want to answer my messages,” you grin slightly, though there’s a bitter taste if your mouth at the fact that carmen is still ignoring you. but that’s besides the point. “quite sad. i miss her.”

“oh my gosh,” charles says, puts the egg into the bowl and puts it down on the table. “you…” he blinks. “you… have feelings for me?”

it’s your turn to gape wordlessly at him. there could be 2 ways this situation goes: he would be appalled and… you can’t even imagine it going your way.

it was one thing to spend the past couple of years pining and hopelessly thinking of being together with a friend, but it’s another to admit it outright and not be embarrassed about it. what if he asks you when you started feeling like this? how are you supposed to explain that you’ve had feelings for him since you were 17? that was almost ten years ago.

“what? no,” you scoff, furrowing your eyebrows. “why would you even think that?”

“why are you asking me that? you literally said it?” charles asks, putting a hand up, directed at you in disbelief.

“you were gonna throw an egg at me!” you scoff, pointing at the egg.

“yeah, but you wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t thinking it,” he rolls his eyes, “you have feelings for me?”

you blink blankly at him with your palm now against the marble of the island. “no, you must have misinterpreted it.” you laugh nervously, clutching your stomach and then looking away to avoid his judgemental gaze. “i mean it in a friendly way.”

“a friendly way?” he scoffs back at you. “what does that even mean?”

you take a breath. there is only so many ways you can try and steer the conversation away from what you’ve just said.

“like… we’ve been friends for 11 years! i’m sure i can say ‘i love you’ platonically, right?” you look into his eyes, anticipating and wishing that he will eventually buy your lie.

because realistically, you would rather have and keep him as a friend than lose him entirely.

you watch as he takes steady breaths, looking at you with hesitation clearly written in his eyes. “it doesn’t mean anything, charles. don’t overthink it.”

but you would pray to god that he would overthink it. maybe then he will realise that he also has feelings for you, or that he’s had feelings for you all along. maybe he will finally see that you’ve been here all along instead of putting him through the torment of another failed relationship?

but you watch as the gears turn in his head. his gaze softens as a more genuine smile stretches his lips. “oh, okay,” he laughs airily, picking up his bowl. “for a moment there… you had me!”

you laugh with him, scowling slightly as you turn away from him. “yeah, i got you there.”

“you scared me — i always told carlos he was wrong about the way he claims you would look at me,” charles laughs, appearing by your side. he beams at you when you turn to him before briefly walking away. “you’d never like me like that anyway. you’re too good for me.”

it feels like he’s thrown a knife that went directly straight through your heart. it’s also another type of pain to hear that from the guy you’ve been wishing for.

and while you’ve gone out there, explored choices and let yourself be with other guys, there’s simply nobody as good as charles in your eyes.

it’s almost to the point where it’s pathetic.

you laugh. “i guess.”

“besides, i think we’re better off friends. don’t you think so?”

you clench your jaw, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “of course. i’d never date you.”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke isily

542 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.”

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face.

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you.

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max.

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster.

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off.

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground.

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight.

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder.

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you.

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut.

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader

1K notes · View notes

charles-leclerc-official · 1 month

Text

2024 Japan Grand Prix Race Analysis

My analysis of the 2024 Japan Grand Prix. Table of contents below detailing the order of the post. We have a lot to cover as this was an eventful race so I am not going to waste time making introductions.

Table of Contents Ferrari – Race strategy: qualifying and tyre management – Charles: his qualifying and his race – Carlos: his race – In depth data and pace analysis Mclaren – Race strategy – Tyre management/Charles – Pace VCARB – Yuki: his race – Daniel: his crash with Alex Red Bull Mercedes Williams – Logan: his race – Team car problems Stake Concluding Thoughts

Ferrari

Ferrari had Carlos start in P4 and finish P3. Charles started P8 and finished P4. They both further secured Ferrari's lead for second in the constructors as well as keeping the WDC and WCC still competitive against Red Bull.

This race highlighted some areas that need to be improved on the SF-24 but more importantly it also showed some of the massive improvements that Ferrari has made in development and that is what made this race very exciting for Ferrari fans.

Once again the Ferrari strategy was great. It would have actually been good to mid if it were not for Charles having the skill and confidence to go for the one-stop strategy. But this is another race where I don't think they could have done anything better.

As it was with the starting grid positions Charles was looking at maybe getting P7 or P6 with a 2 stop strategy. And that strategy was most likely given the track and how much deg there usually is at Suzuka.

The reason Charles made it to P4 was because of his superior driving and tyre management, and Ferrari listening to him when he said he wanted to go for the one-stop strategy. They listened and it was 100% the right call on Charles’ part.

Charles outperformed what should have been possible. If you don’t believe me just look at what Max, Lando, Oscar, Checo, Mclaren, and Red Bull are saying about his tyre management. Charles in the SF-24 was the only one who could have pulled that one-stop off. Seriously, the fact that Max didn’t think he could have done it is really all you need to know. They saw that and were genuinely impressed not only by the car but by Charles, because we saw that with Carlos he was struggling more with tyre deg and that was with a two-stop approach.

So not only was this the best strategy to maximize points for Charles this race given his starting grid position, it was also just a truly phenomenal drive from Charles himself.

And once again we are seeing incredible strides being made at the Ferrari pit wall in terms of timing and strategy. The pit stops for both drivers were on point. They listened to Charles and went with the strategy he wanted and it worked!

Everything I saw this race was so promising for the trajectory of Ferrari and Charles’ season, and beyond into 2025 and 2026.

Charles: Race, Qualifying, and Free Practice

Charles ran a truly insane race. The only reason he gained all of the positions he did was because of his choice to do the one-stop and not only that but making it work! He gained every position it was possible for him to take and then some. His tyre management on this high degredation track was borderline supernatural.

Charles pulled off zero to negative tyre degradation on both sets of his tyres. (Negative deg is when faster laps are set as the tyres age) This was without question the best tyre management performance we have seen from a driver in 2024. It is something that no other driver could pull off (either due to skill, driving style, or machinery) and that is why Charles is Ferrari.

Have I waxed on long enough about Charles and his tyres? Just wait till you get to the Mclaren section.

I also have a lot more to say about his pace and tyres in the data section.

For now let's move on to some of the questions people might have about what happened to Charles in qualifying and FP3.

Charles qualifying position was decided in free practice. I want to try to be brief, so here is a quick timeline of why Charles’ didn’t have the optimal setup for qualifying (this also applies to Carlos because both Ferrari’s underperformed in qualifying, there was a difference of 1/10th between them so it really was just a matter of the field being so tight)

Suzuka is colder during the day than any race we’ve had so far this year. With the SF-24 being so good with tyre deg that is actually a problem because it means that getting the tyres to warm up takes longer.

The loss of all of FP2 due to rain was a big blow to Ferrari and especially Charles.

Charles has been having more issues getting his qualifying settings right to manage the tyre warming issue. This is due to his personal setup choices and driving style. Being gentler on the tyres in a car with less deg is leading to him underperforming in qualifying.

So we lost valuable time when Ferrari really needed to understand the SF-24 behavior in the colder Suzuka temps.

FP3: Charles and Carlos both got in some race sim laps, but only got to squeeze in 1 or 2 flying lap tests at the very end. Charles especially was frustrated by this. I believe that this came from not having the time to complete all of the program they had outlined to prep for qualifying and the race.

Going into qualifying Charles didn’t have enough data to guide his settings for Q1. They went with a certain setup they hadn’t gotten to fully test and it didn’t work. Which led to them having to send Charles out again in Q1 with a different setup on another set of softs to try to set a better lap in Q1.

In Q3 Charles only had 1 set of softs remaining to set his best lap. It was okay but not enough. I do think that over qualifying he did get settings better on the car and if he’d had another set of softs he might have made it up to P6 (possibly P5) the middle of the field was very close so I don’t think this qualifying placement and time was as bad as it looks. It certainly isn’t great, but compared to his teammate and the rest of the top teams it wasn’t so concerning.

So the lack of enough free practice to figure out the best qualifying setup for Charles in the colder temps is really what cost them here. I think this is why we saw Charles very frustrated at not having the time to do more flying laps during FP3 and Fred also not happy with the program they ran during all free practice sessions.

All of this does apply to Carlos as well. We’ve seen him qualify better in 2024 too so this was just a matter of the SF-24 settings on flying laps given the colder temps and the track.

This is a current issue for the SF-24, but it is something that can be developed and I think there are certain upgrades that will address this. It is better to have a car base that is too gentle on the tyres than the other way around. The SF-24 tyre treatment is a good base to work with. This weekend just highlighted areas where improvements need to be made. The unfortunate part was the loss of FP2 because that was going to be important for colder temp data gathering.

I want to once again now take the time to shut down some narratives about Ferrari's race specifically relating to Carlos' lap 46 pass on Charles:

The reason Charles and Ferrari let Carlos pass was because Carlos was on newer tyres and thus had overall faster lap times.

It’s insane to expect a team to keep the car that has faster pace behind. I could see it if it was a difference of 1/10th or something or if it was the last lap of the race, then it’s up for debate. That wasn’t the case here, Carlos with the tyres that were 10 laps newer was almost 1 second faster. Keeping him behind would have not only compromised his race but also possibly Charles’. We don’t want a car just hovering behind the other. As we heard on the radio the main concern was keeping Lando behind. As far as gaining significant placement this race goes we always knew Lando was going to be Charles' competition. If the cars were fighting over pace with this big of a discrepancy in the pace we would have seen disastrous results.

Charles knew this and this is why he let Carlos by. He was never intending to race Carlos(he literally said this in interviews after). With the way they started on the grid it was not going to be in the cards this race. Charles said as much and he isn’t upset about it.

“Carlos overtook Charles”: No, Charles let him pass because that was strategically optimal for both Ferrari drivers.

“Carlos’ pace was better”: No, he was on a completely different tyre strategy, the only reason he was faster is because he did two stints on mediums and then finished on newer hards. Charles overall race pace and tyre management was better. This is just a result of 1. Different starting positions and 2. Different tyre strategies. It’s very hard to do a driver-to driver comparison with blanket statements when they are on different strategies.

“Ferrari gave the order to switch with Sainz”: No, they just didn’t do that, I don’t know what race you were watching.

“They should have told Carlos to defend”: That would have been a bad strategy choice for both drivers. There is a lot more than current track position that goes into strategy calls.

"Ferrari strategy screwed Charles over again": No, Charles chose his strategy(and it was the right call). Ferrari did great in supporting him.

I don't understand why people want to run this narrative that we keep getting Silverstone 22' level strategy calls when that is just not happening.

Now Charles radio after the race may have sounded disappointed and in the heat of the moment he probably was. However in interviews after the race he was very happy with the car (I think he realized just what a good performance he put in) but also I think his big takeaway from this race was that Ferrari have given him a strong base to work with(finally) and he has been only saying more positive things since then.

Ferrari did amazing supporting both drivers. Especially Charles because it was his call to do the one-stop and they listened to him and supported him perfectly throughout running that strategy.

Carlos

Carlos ran a clean race. He gained the one position which is about what we'd expect from the car he was in and his starting position. His performance also gave us really good baseline data for the SF-24.

His race was mostly decided in qualifying and also the fact that Mclaren struggled far more than expected on this track. Ferrari initially thought he might have to fight Lando more for that position but Mclaren's struggle was Carlos' gain.

I also think that just this race in general from him and his driving style was really good data for the SF-24 to inform development and that is awesome!

I don't have a ton to add, it was good, got those WCC points for Ferrari and that's exactly what we want to see from him.

In Depth Data Analysis

The name of the game here is tyre wear. The SF-24 (especially in Charles' hands) has had phenomenal race pace and that is due to the fact that this car is so easy on the tyres. However Charles is the driver who has been able to pull this feature out of the car due to his driving style and tyre management skills.

We are going to look at a comparison of Charles' and Carlos' data to highlight exactly what was so interesting about Charles' pace. And then also adding in Max, because as the driver to beat he is a good benchmark(as well as showing the top performance of the RB-20)

Here is a comparison of lap times between Charles and Carlos, corrected for tyre age(because they were on different strategies)

For the medium tyre I used both their first medium stints. Carlos did two stints on mediums, I used his first stint for comparison because it means both tyres were subject to the same time of day and track temps and conditions.

Now the lap times themselves here aren’t as important. Carlos and Charles were in different spots on the track and Carlos was in much cleaner air even on that first stint. The real thing to look at is the way Charles lap time stays consistent, and even gets faster as the age of the tyres progresses, while Carlos starts off with his best speed and then gradually gets slower. Carlos’ pace here is an example of what we expect to see - as tyres age they get slower so his pace on these tyres is perfectly normal, by the time he got to lap 14 before he pitted he’d lost more than a second of pace on those tyres (which is normal and expected). Then we can then look at Charles who is getting almost the exact same lap time out of his 11 lap old mediums as the first lap. Where Carlos has lost more than a second, Charles has lost nothing. Furthermore you can see multiple instances of an increased speed on his previous laps, which indicates negative tyre degradation. This goes against general tyre wear behavior and can only be attributed to Charles’ skill in extending the pace of his tyres.

I want to add that both driver’s pace was excellent and that both their performances would not have been possible without the massive leap Ferrari has made with the SF-24 and race pace tyre degradation.

Again looking at the hards the actual lap time is not important here, Charles and Carlos were running very different strategies at this point. Charles was racing to extend the life of the tyres to pull off a one-stop and Carlos was trying to regain position near the front. What we are looking at is once again the way the lap times increase for Carlos steadily, and just don’t for Charles.

Charles once again was pulling essentially the same lap time on 11 lap old hards, while Carlos had lost a full second. The sheer consistency here is what is scaring the other teams.

I want to note here that none of this is meant to make Carlos look bad. I think his runs and tyre treatment were pretty good overall, but when your teammate is defying the laws of physics in the same car it can even make a good drive look not as great. But I have no issues with how Carlos managed, he gave a good example of what I would say is the base deg for the SF-24.

Now I want to compare Charles’ pace to Max’s, again correcting for tyre age.

This is helpful because this is where we can get a look at match-ups for the future, the strengths of the SF-24 compared to the RB20.

Here is where it gets interesting. Max on the hards was managing degradation amazingly, right on par with Charles.

The big difference is on the mediums. After 11 laps Max had lost over a full second of pace on the mediums and Charles had not.

This gap is where we are going to see big results come in from the SF-24 in the future. If I were Red Bull I’d be worried about this. And this is why they are also specifically worried about Charles, because we see that the SF-24 in Carlos hands is behaving as expected as far as tyre deg goes, the real threat based on the data is the combination of Charles Leclerc and the SF-24.

Deltas Δ

Now let's take a look at what the change in pace lap to lap looks like for Charles, Max and Carlos. Again using those first 11 laps on the mediums.

Lap deltas are the change in lap time lap-to-lap, and this is a metric that shows if a driver is keeping pace, gaining pace or losing pace. Positive numbers mean a loss of pace, negative numbers are a gain. This is calculated by the equation of (Lap time B - Lap time A = change in pace or the delta Δ) So it's just the time difference lap to lap. This is how we can take a look at the actual pace and correct for lap times (which are not important here)

On it's own this doesn't look like much, yes Charles is managing best, but Carlos is also ahead of Max. This is showing where the SF-24 is better than the RB-20. The fact that of these three drivers Max is the worst on this metric is notable.

However the impressive part of Charles' tyre deg is not in these first 11 laps. Because after these laps Max and Carlos had to pit because they were losing time and their tyres were done.

Charles kept going.

Here is what Charles' full stint on the mediums looked like.

Charles continued to achieve faster laps and negative deltas well into the life of the tyres, and that is what is setting him apart from Carlos and Max.

Not only was Charles achieving negative deltas, he was doing it more consistently as the tyres aged.

For comparison here is Carlos' and Max's data overlayed on Charles full medium stint.

While the first graph on the mediums shows that both Ferrari's were outperforming the RB20 in terms of deg(or at the very least Carlos was on a very similar delta to Max), this is where you see the difference in the drivers. Because Max and Carlos had to pit because they were rapidly losing performance on those tyres(see above time sheets) Charles was not, and he only improved. He more than doubled the life of his tyres in comparison to the other two.

This is the graph that really matters because it shows what each driver was able to do with one set of mediums. And as you can see it's not even close.

This is where you can see the impact of the negative deg over time. Compared to the normal deg we see with Max and Carlos it serves to highlight exactly how outside of the norm Charles was operating.

Charles only continued to improve well beyond the other two. That's what was insane about his tyre management.

Neither Carlos or Max were going to be able to continue their pace (hence the pit)

I feel like the data really speaks for itself. Max and Carlos are good comparisons here, Carlos is a good driver in the same car as Charles, and Max is the current top driver on the grid and is known for his tyre management.

I want to finish this section with the sentence that is chilling the blood of every other driver and TP on the grid: Charles set his fastest lap of his race on 25 lap old hards.

Mclaren

So what happened to Mclaren?

A lot of people were expecting Mclaren to be the second strongest team on this track. And qualifying certainly made it look like that might be the case. With Lando being ahead of Carlos in P3 and Oscar being ahead of Charles in P6 on the starting grid.

So why did both Mclarens get easily defeated by the Ferraris?

I think there are 2 main reasons.

The Mclaren car is not even close to the SF-24 when it comes to tyre deg, that car loses pace much faster so it just cannot fight when a Ferrari comes up behind it.

Charles 1 stop strategy really messed up the team's pit strategy with Lando.

In Mclaren’s defense no one thought anyone would be crazy enough to try a 1 stop around Suzuka, let alone have zero tyre deg on a high deg track.

They seemed to be managing their pit strategy with Lando under the assumption that Charles was going to pit twice, and I think they were very worried about an undercut in the pits (after they didn’t get away with it in Australia I think they were very keen to make sure they kept their position)

But Charles didn’t do a 2 stop strategy. He stayed out and his pace on the hards was unbelievable.

There was really no way for them to see that coming. It’s kind of hard when your main competition decides this is the weekend he’s going to challenge the laws of physics.

(And you thought I was done talking about Charles’ tyre strategy)

Here is a graph of Lando vs Carlos. That was the spot he lost, and you can see that the pit strategy is really what cost Lando the spot. Carlos came behind him on much fresher tyres and by then he'd lost the pace. He pitted too early, and that was due to Mclaren not understanding that Charles is on another level.

His pace was okay on newer tyres, but once they age the drop off was pretty bad. So the Mclaren car needs to improve in the tyre deg department if they want to see either of their drivers beat a Ferrari any time this year.

Furthermore Oscar once again struggled more because he is still the weaker of the two Mclarens when it comes to tyre deg, and on this track that really showed.

But I think the fact that Mclaren kept trying to figure out when Charles was going to pit for his second stint and then he just didn’t really threw them off and had them making some weird pit calls.

VCARB

Yuki

Yuki ran what was in my opinion the second most impressive drive of the race. He qualified P10 and finished P10. However to keep that position he pulled of some truly perfect overtakes. He was fighting to finally get that home race point. I was so excited seeing him put on that good of a show for his home fans.

In this race he became the first Japanese driver to score home race points since 2012, and that is just so exciting for Yuki and his fans. It really made that single point mean a lot. I don't think I have ever been more excited for a P10!

Yuki has really been showing what the VCARB car is capable of and it looks really promising. He seems comfortable and I think we will be seeing a lot more points from him this season.

Daniel: Crash with Albon and DNF

Going to be covering Alex and Daniel's crash this section.

On lap 1, Daniel and Alex made contact going into turn 3, resulting in both cars going off the track and ending up in the barriers. Both drivers had to retire from the race.

To me this looked like a result of crowding into that turn in the mid field with neither driver at significant fault. I don't think Daniel was trying to push Alex wide, and I also don't think that Alex mistook that corner. The FIA and stewards agree and Alex and Daniel's story of what happened make sense.

Going into the turn Daniel had the outside line, and he was trying to give room to the Aston Martin(Lance) on his inside. He didn't see Alex on his outside and his wheel made contact with Alex's front wing, causing his car to spin and pushing Alex of the line and into the gravel.

Alex thought he had the outside line to overtake and was in the process of attempting that when Daniel went to give space on the inside, this resulted in the contact and Daniel forcing him wide.

This crash really just was a result of crowding in that corner, Daniel was trying to give space to one driver and inadvertently crowded out another. There wasn't space so he was kind of in a lose-lose situation there.

I agree with the stewards that no penalty for either driver was warranted and that this was the result of midfield crowding, and some bad luck for both drivers. It wasn't a result of bad driving on either Daniel or Alex's part. Even if Daniel had seen Alex I am not sure what he could have done if he also needed to give room to Lance.

Ultimately I am glad both drivers are uninjured. Hopefully they have some better luck in future races.

Red Bull

I don't have a ton to say about Red Bull. My comparison in the Ferrari data section is what was most interesting about this race from the data standpoint.

They didn't do much, the Red Bulls started ahead and finished ahead as expected. Max and Checo both ran a really clean race. Again showing the power of the RB-20.

I will add that this was a really good race for Checo(probably his best this year), and it was nice to see him have redemption after Suzuka 2023.

Nothing terribly exciting to add. Max won again, well done Max!

Mercedes

Mercedes didn't have a great race, but considering that both their drivers DNFed in Australia it was good for the team to get some points. Lewis started in P7 and finished P9, while George started P9 and finished P7. So they swapped positions.

It seems that the Mercedes car might be better on those qualifying laps than the race pace (and even then it's qualifying has been inconsistent)

The most notable thing about Mercedes' race was when Lewis asked if he should let George pass when George came up behind him, and George did in fact make the pass. This was done simply because George's pace was better. Lewis knew this so it was best for the team.

I think that so far we have seen that the W15 is struggling in a lot of areas, and as far as drivers go George has been more comfortable in the car(could be driving style, setup, a combo of the two) than Lewis.

Both are solid drivers, and hopefully they can guide Mercedes into making improvements to the car to get them closer to top points. At this point the car Mercedes has made seems to have fallen short of expectations. Make no mistake though, Lewis and George are both drivers who are much better than the car they are in at the moment.

Williams

I covered Alex's crash with Daniel already so we are going to talk about Logan.

Logan honestly did about the best he could do in the car he had. After damaging both his front and rear wing in free practice and still using the repaired chassis from Australia his car was not in the best shape already going into the race. Additionally the Williams really struggled with grip in the rears and has been all over the place. Suzuka especially seems to have not been suited to it.

Yes on lap 41 Logan went off track into a gravel trap, but that was on a corner that had given more skilled and experienced drivers trouble this weekend so I am not going to fault him too much for that in the car he had. Better cars were having problems there too.

He did have a really strong first stint and was pulling some overtakes. Most of his positions were lost when he did get undercut by some pit stops, and then of course losing time to the gravel trap.

The win is that he finished the race and the car is intact. That may not seem like much, but given the state of things at Williams it's important.

There were some highlights for his race and I will say in terms of raw performance he has not been far off Alex this year. That car of Williams is really hindering both drivers.

Stake

Stake actually had pretty good pace overall. The car is not as bad as it has looked on paper. The main issues has been their slow pit stops (caused by incompatibility between the bolters and the tyre covers apparently) Zhou and Valtteri both showed some pretty good pace and were in positions for overtakes.

Zhou unfortunately had to retire his car due to gearbox issues.

Stake has really been a mess and we have not seen what that car can actually do in terms of performance overall, or what what their drivers are capable of in that car.

They are making attempts to address the pit stop issue and I think if they do that, then we will see both drivers picking up some P10 points at the very least.

Final Thoughts

I think we can all agree that Suzuka was the best race of the year so far from a pure racing standpoint!

Whew, that’s all I got on this race, so I will leave you with this final thought.

This race was a warning shot from Ferrari.

#lucis race analysis #japan gp 2024 #suzuka gp 2024 #formula 1 #f1 #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc #long post #I am so serious this is a long post you've been warned #lot of good data though if you are into that <3 #thank you for reading <3

320 notes · View notes

leclsrc · 1 year

Note

can i please request a forbidden relationship with charles? like maybe a verstappen!reader or a wolff!reader? angst to fluff please 😩

name calling – cl16

Charles develops a new nickname, but it's not for you. (wolff!reader)

auds here... i love u anon and i hope its okay that i did not write angst into this!!! i needed a feel good thing to get the trope going. listened to this a lot while writing, one of my favorite cutesy love songs ever!

“There’s peach and apple,” you say over the phone, inspecting the juice box flavors in the well-stocked fridge of the Mercedes motorhome. Apparently, over at Ferrari, the supply is running dry, a report generously provided to you by your boyfriend.

“Is there lemon?” You two have the same favorite. You rifle through the stock and find a lone lemon flavor collecting frost at the back of the pile.

“None.” You say, clearing your throat. “Come on, man. Peach and apple.”

He makes a noise of suspicion, but gives in. “Peach then.”

“Okay.” You tuck your phone in-between your ear and shoulder and collect multiple to find the coldest one, an accompaniment to the heat this weekend; your call is cut short when your dad walks in, eyebrows set in a straight line of contemplation.

They raise when he spots you harboring a bunch of peach juice boxes. “Gotta go, bye,” you add in a rushed whisper, and he says a quick see you thanks before hanging up.

“Dad,” you say casually. You raise one of the six boxes in your hand. “Juice?”

“Is there lemon left?”

“No luck. Peach and apple,” you say sweetly.

“I’ll have apple. Listen, I’m going to a principal’s meeting using your scooter.”

You toss him a box. “Okay. Stay safe,” you respond, letting him pull you into a one-armed hug. “There’s too many people in the centre so I’ve been scootering behind motorhomes to get to places faster. Might help.”

“Okay, spatzi,” he says, punching a straw into the box and departing. This signals a greenlight for you to call Charles again—despite your best mutual efforts, you’ve both been almost caught calling or being near each other by your dad. And, in the words of your lovely boyfriend, he’s not yet ready to die. But the hiding is worth it; after all, it’s hiding from the public, which you both wanted from the get go, and your dad. Your mum and several friends know, which makes the lying ease up a little bit.

He picks up in the middle of the first ring. “Hey. Got my juice?”

“Yeah. Back door.” A routine crafted over years of knowing each other—first as friends, then as lovers—serves you well, a rushed meeting at the back door of a garage or motorhome to discuss date night plans or to hand over a gift or plate of food. In this case, it’s a juice box, half-tossed in your rush to not be spotted by one of your dad’s friends.

And, as always, he blows you a kiss as you close the door.

—

Four sips into his peach juice, Charles sneaks past the Mercedes motorhome and moves back to Ferrari, but not without spotting a mess of long limbs on the ground beside a forgotten scooter. Upon closer inspection, his suspicion of it being a deranged superfan is rejected—it’s Toto Wolff.

“I must have tripped on a wire,” Toto grunts, eyes scanning the ground. He meets Charles’ eyes.

“Let me help you,” Charles says, immediately offering a hand and pulling. The guy is jacked, so he exerts a bit more effort than he’s willing to admit; the job gets done nonetheless, so potato-potahto, really.

“Thank you,” wheezes Toto, sitting up, all six feet five of him, “son.”

Charles is slack mouthed. Oh my God. Son???? “You are welcome, so welcome,” he responds kindly, despite the awkward tension. “Um, Papa.”

Toto pauses his ascent and stares pointedly before shaking his head. “I… must go.”

“Well, drive safe. Watch the roads. And all.” Charles says, laughing sheepishly. “Toto. Watch the roads, and all, Toto.” He emphasizes, like that takes back the fact that he called the big boss Papa just ten seconds ago. He chews at the straw of the peach juice, gnawing nervously.

“I will. Thanks again.” He falls quiet, staring. Then a knobby finger points to the juice box, waving back and forth in-between the juice box in the garbage bin a few metres away. “They’re… your juice box… is that from the Mercedes… motorhome?”

“No,” lies Charles with unrivaled stiffness.

“It is a German brand we special order for my daughter.”

“No—see, I am very into German juice.” He ignores the way it sounds like a euphemism. “What’s that? My phone is now ringing. Okay. D’accord. Au revoir.” He walks away as he makes up additional excuses, not missing Toto’s laser stare that seems to permeate through walls and asphalt, finding reprieve only when he’s back in his room.

He chucks the juice box into the nearest bin and prays to all the gods.

—

Charles ends up getting P1. He’s surrounded by whoops and cheers and receives a very solemn “good effort” nod from Toto across the paddock, which he feels cements his apology and effectively keeps your relationship hidden. He’s handled it well. For once, he’s the mature crisis handler in the relationship, and you don’t need to know about any of this, you really don’t.

You congratulate him at the back door like always, when he’s on the way to the parking lot.

A kiss to his cheek. Then: “I have something to ask.”

“What’s that, darling?”

“Did you, um. Call my dad Papa?”

He presses a palm to his mouth in a very Charles-esque overdramatic way. “Oh my God, he told you?!”

“Oh my God, it’s true?!” You detect the volume in your voice and usher yourself out, quietly shutting the door before facing him again. You raise your eyebrows.

Your boyfriend, your adorably aloof boyfriend, just sputters. “Well—he called me son!”

“Yeah, because he’s old! Old people do that.” You gesticulate wildly “I can’t believe you called him Papa.”

“I can’t believe he told you.”

“I can’t believe you both thought I did not know,” comes a voice from the door that is, unfortunately, not Lewis’ or George’s or yours or Charles’.

The door swings open and there your dad stands, eyebrows raised quizzically, windbreaker-clad arms crossed over his chest. “Charles, I know you don’t ‘like German juice.’ Spatzi, I know you don’t ‘enjoy exploring Monaco hotels by yourself.’” Stoically, he raises air quotes.

“… Sorry?” You offer, smile sweet.

“It’s okay.” He allows a small, warm smile directed to you. “I’ve known a while now.”

“Sorry, Toto,” Charles says profusely, visibly anxious.

The smile chills. Your dad just nods, waving him off. “Cool down on the Papa, though, Leclerc.”

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic

2K notes · View notes

katebishopsbow · 6 months

Note

PLEASE MORE CHARLES SISTER READER !! i loved it so much. could you maybe do like a young middle teen sister reader who kinda has a grudge against charles for him never being around cause he was racing and then angst when they see each other again but it eventually turns to fluff/comfort? thank you i adore your stuff !!!

DAISY • CHARLES LECLERC

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

summary: you and charles used to be inseparable, but with him constantly being away for all his races, an invisible wall began to form between you and him. it took a crash for you two to acknowledge what had happened, and try mending the broken pieces of your relationship.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunications, charles being absent from reader's life

word count: 3.1k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The first reactions whenever you revealed to people that Charles Leclerc was your brother had always been jealous glances, envious smiles, and words like “That must be so amazing!” And it was amazing indeed – Charles was amazing. So why did you feel so isolated, like you were stuck looming in the hidden shadows of your brother sometimes?

You tried to be understanding. Charles was incredibly talented in racing, and these few years would be the most crucial years of his life in climbing the ladder to Formula 1 – his biggest childhood dream. So whenever your parents would tell you with the most apologetic smiles that they might have to miss your events at school because Charles had an important race they had to attend, you didn’t cry, you didn’t throw a tantrum, you just nodded quietly and went back to your room.

It wasn’t your parents nor Charles’ fault – you knew that. You understood that your parents would never purposefully miss your events or neglect one child for the other, and Charles never wanted to make you feel like the less important one in the family. But somehow, it still stung to glance down at the audience at whatever school performance you were having and not see your parents or brother there, to feel like you were quietly fading into the background, to know that you would always be seen as an extension of Charles and never your own self.

Of course, Charles had noticed you becoming distant from the family – he always noticed everything. It pained him just as much as it upset you whenever he had to miss out on your life, and so he tried hard to be there when you needed it. On the rare days when he didn’t have training or a race lined up, he would offer to take you out for a little “sibling date” and try making up for the times he wasn’t there for you. While you appreciated his effort, there was no denying that an invisible wall had developed between you two, dividing you and your brother with all your missed events and unspoken words.

How could you tell Charles that because of him, you felt like you were not seen? How could you tell him that it felt like his dreams and achievements took center stage of the family while yours had become shoved back in the dimmed shadows? How could you tell him that when you looked at him, you saw a stranger, that the bond that once firmly held you two together had begun to feel oddly unfamiliar? You simply couldn’t.

The wall continued to grow as the years went on, acting as a constant reminder that things between you two could never quite be the same. Your parents would always say to your relatives that you and Charles were such good kids because you two rarely fought. You were uncertain if that was really a good thing though – how could you fight when you barely even talk to each other?

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

There was a soft knocking on your door, and you didn’t need to ask to know who it was. “Go away, Charles,” you sighed exasperatedly, not wanting to speak to your brother just yet. He had done it once again – saying that he would come to your school’s drama performance but telling you last minute that he had an urgent meeting with his sponsor and couldn’t come. It wasn’t his fault that something suddenly came up, but it still hurt like hell, and it left you feeling like a complete idiot for believing for a second that you were more important to him than his race.

Despite your protest, he opened the door and came in anyway. “Hey, ange.” He still called you by your childhood nickname, but that word that once held so much endearment and affection only sounded foreign coming from his lips. “I thought since Mom and Dad won’t be home for dinner tonight, we could go to that restaurant that you like?” he asked with a tired smile, trying to make it up to you for missing your show.

“Just stop it, Charles,” you said to him, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration. Your brother looked at you confusedly, the smile dropping from his face as he asked, “What do you mean?” You considered for a moment to stay silent and continue to conceal your true feelings, to keep acting like everything’s fine – but you were just so, so tired of pretending.

“Stop pretending that everything’s normal between us! Stop acting like you care, or that you aren’t gone most of the time!” For the first time in years, you yelled at him, voice cracking at the emotions that had stayed buried deep within you for the longest time. “It’s fine if you’re not going to be here, Charles, but then just please stay gone… don’t come back and give me all these false hopes when you’re just going to leave me again. Please…” You were already choked up by the time you finished your words, raw hurt and disappointment lacing through your pleas – a mixture of so much love and hate toward your brother.

Charles said nothing, he just stared at you silently while allowing your gun-wrenchingly painful words to set in. The boy hardly cried – not when he performed terribly in a race, not when he suffered a nasty sports injury, not even when he thought his journey to F1 was over when he almost got disqualified at a rather important race. But as he stood there in the doorway of your room, feeling the words stabbing into his heart, he thought he was going to fall apart and shatter into broken pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he let out a barely audible whisper, voice trembling from the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest. Hearing your cries made his heart clench with pain, and it hurt him even more knowing that he was the cause of it all. When you were kids, the two of you always joked that he was going to beat up any boy who would dare break your heart. It was a cruel twist of fate that he, the person who had vowed to protect you, had become the very person to cause you heartbreak, and that realization killed him inside.

Knowing that nothing he said could make things right at this point, he glanced at you one last time before leaving your room. That night while you soaked through your pillow with tears and heartache, in your brother’s room at the other end of the hallway, Charles was crying silently beneath his sheets too.

Two hearts were broken that night, with both of you mourning the shattered pieces of your once unbreakable bond.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The air was humid when your parents and you arrived at the circuit, rain pouring heavily as the scent of wet gravel loomed over the track like a bad omen. Flying halfway across the world to watch Charles’ race wasn’t initially in your summer plans, but your parents insisted that it would be fun to travel as a family. So alas, here you were, standing amidst the rain-soaked circuit to support Charles in the pursuit of his racing dreams.

“Mom! Dad!” The excited voice of your brother could be heard in the distance, and Charles sprinted through the rain to give your parents a quick hug. Then when his gaze shifted towards you, he gave you a slight smile – one that hovered on the edge of awkwardness. “Hey, ange. Thank you for coming,” he said, and you flinched when you sensed the subtle tension of your past conflict lingering around the air.

The two of you never mentioned that night again, pretending it never happened for the fear of reopening wounds that you both knew would never really heal. So you went back to your old routine – with Charles chasing his racing dreams in the bright limelights and you disappearing back into the shadows where the world couldn’t see you. It was less frightening that way, not having to face your fears and be honest about your feelings, to admit how much you missed each other.

“It’s fine – no big deal,” you answered, returning a tight-lipped smile with a shrug of your shoulders. Perhaps Charles was overanalyzing things like he always did, but he felt a punch to his gut upon hearing what you said to him. Having you there at his race to support him wasn’t “no big deal”, because to him it had meant the world.

He wanted to win the race and make you proud, to dedicate his victory to the most important people in his life, to celebrate the moment with you – his best friend and biggest supporter since day one. Though it seemed that this meant much less to you than it did to him, and despite the sadness that clouded over him, he didn’t let his smile falter.

“Well, I’d better head back soon,” he announced quickly as he glanced at the time, accepting the doting kisses and hugs from your mother before walking off into the pouring rain again. You watched as he disappeared into the distance, the “good luck out there” you had intended to say lingering at the tip of your tongue, joining the countless other unspoken words between you and Charles.

The rain had never really gone well with car racing, for the wet conditions reduce traction and control, turning the track into a treacherous playground with accidents waiting to happen. Your parents and you spectated the race from the garage, and you couldn’t help the unsettlement that consumed you as you watched your brother drive, more aggressively than usual.

Sure, Charles had always been a competitive person who wasn’t afraid to take risks on track, but not like this – never like this. It was on a particularly sharp corner when disaster struck. Charles, attempting to overtake the person in front of him, pushed the limits just a fraction too far causing his tires to lose grip, and his car spun out of control.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen Charles crash – he had his fair share of incidents throughout his karting days – but the horror and utter helplessness, as you watched his car hurtle towards the barrier as if time had slowed down, was just as bad as the first.

The piercing sound of screeching tires and colliding metals reverberated through the air, and you held your breath as you braced for the absolute worst – something you learned to do when your family was a part of the dangerous world of motorsports. When Charles’s car settled to a stop, only having a minor collision with the wall instead of a serious crash, you made sure to thank all the Gods in existence as you exhaled a relieved sigh.

Charles staggered out of the car looking relatively unscathed, holding a thumbs-up to signal he was alright and not severely injured as he awaited for assistance. Without hesitation, you headed straight towards the medical center when you watched Charles leave the scene with the medics, not only to check on him but to give him a proper scolding for driving so recklessly.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, what were you thinking?” you exclaimed as you made your way to Charles’s bed, feeling a palpable ache in your chest when you noticed the scratches on his face and the bandaged gash on his forehead. “How could you drive so recklessly…?” you asked again, your voice significantly weaker than before – how could you still be mad at him when he was already hurt?

Charles’s head dropped down in remorse after hearing what you had said, it’s only when the adrenaline during the race faded away that he realized how irresponsible he had been. “I’m sorry… I just really wanted to win and... make you proud.” You didn’t expect such an answer from him, finding it hard to fathom that your brother wanted you to be proud of him so badly that he was willing to jeopardize his safety.

How could you begin to express how proud you were of him – so proud that every time you thought of him your heart swelled with uncontainable joy, that seeing him race filled you with so much admiration and respect, that even with all that happened between you two, he was still your biggest role model who taught you everything you needed to know in life.

“Please don’t be mad at me, ange. Here, look at what I got you…” he said to you before reaching into one of the hidden pockets of his race suit, pulling out a little flower. A daisy – your favourite. It was missing a few petals, slightly mushed up, and the stem was bent at an odd angle, but it was the most perfect daisy you had ever laid eyes on.

“I saw it at the field before the race started and thought of you. You told me they were your favourite flower when we were kids, right?” he asked albeit already knowing the answer – they were indeed your favourite flower. “Charles…” you muttered in a hushed whisper, and you genuinely feared that you would start uncontrollably sobbing.

He had remembered. It was a warm spring afternoon when the two of you wandered into a grass field, playing an intense game of tag when you suddenly got distracted by a little white flower that adorned the ground – delicate and so, so pretty. “Charles, what kind of flower is this?” you said to your brother, to which he answered, “These are called daisies.” You studied the flower carefully, admiring its beautiful white petals and soft yellow center, and that’s when you decided, “This is my favourite flower.”

Charles chuckled beside you and teased, “You say that to every flower!” When you smacked his arm jokingly with an annoyed pout on your face, he pretended to yelp in pain and raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay! Whatever you say, mon ange.” The two of you erupted into a giggling fit and resumed your game of tag – the game you never seemed to lose because Charles would always let you win.

It was a precious memory you held dearly in your heart, a distant thought that you remembered with such fondness. The simple times when you and Charles were still close as ever, when he didn’t have to constantly be away because of his races and you didn’t push him away every chance you got, before all the unexpressed thoughts and misunderstandings had created a barrier between you two. You had always thought that Charles had long forgotten about it, but now you realized that the memory held a special place in his heart as well, and it made you want to burst into tears.

“Charles, I’m –” you hesitated, almost like you had forgotten how to be honest or vulnerable in front of your brother, but you knew you would never be able to get the words out if you didn’t do it now. “I’m sorry – for pushing you away, for not making an effort to fix things between us… And I’m scared, so scared that if I try, my effort won’t be good enough, and then I’ll have no choice but to watch you leave, ” you let out a sigh while keeping your gaze trained on the flower in your hand, knowing well that if you looked at your brother, you would start crying, and you weren’t sure if the tears would ever stop.

Charles’ face softened at your apology, shaking his head vehemently because he never once blamed you for anything that happened. “No, ange, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry for not being there for you and for ever making you feel unimportant, because you mean the absolute world to me… It’s my fault for not being the older brother that you deserved, and I want to do better, for you,” he admitted truthfully, taking the blame for all the hurt he had caused you over the years for being absent.

When you lifted your gaze to meet his own teary eyes, for the first time in forever, you felt… seen. You had gotten so used to being invisible, letting yourself fade away in the distance as the haunting loneliness swallowed you whole. But with Charles, you didn’t feel invisible, you felt like he could see you – the real you, down to every flaw and every insecurity, and instead of judgment, you could only feel acceptance and love.

Charles had always seen you, and remembered every little detail about you – even the small, unimportant things that you presumed nobody would care enough to notice. To him, you were not a mere extension of him like the world had always seen you as – Charles Leclerc’s sister. To him, you were your own person with your own goals and aspirations, with a heart so big it could embrace the world. You were his best friend, the one who knew him like nobody else, the only person who could understand all his unfunny jokes and odd sense of humor, and he loved every fiber of your being with every fiber of his.

“I love you more than anything, you know that right?” he asked while looking into your eyes, he was not going to let any more unsaid words get between the two of you again. You nodded your head at his question, because despite all your distance and miscommunications, you had always known you were loved. “I know.”

“And you know that I will always be proud of you regardless, right?” It was your turn to ask him, and Charles stayed quiet for a few seconds to think. In the world of racing and its harsh realities, your value was measured by your achievements – you performed well, and the world would love you. Charles had gotten used to that way of things, and so he pushed himself harder and harder each time on track for the fear of making a mistake and being discarded by the world. But with you, with your family, he knew that he would always make you guys proud. “I know,” he smiled.

“We’re gonna fix this, ange,” he said as he reached for your hands. His fingers felt calloused and rough, unlike the hands you had always held onto back when you were kids, but somehow it had felt so familiar, so comforting, so like Charles – those same hands that held yours when you two were running across the field, the one with all the beautiful daisies.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #f1 x you

768 notes · View notes

goldsbitch · 3 months

Text

Here I go again

part 4 to I gave so many signs

summary: Afternoon talks are harder than late night fucks.

warning: present + flashbacks, mentions of cheating and typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Louvre - Lorde Mamma Mia - ABBA (shoot me, I heard an amazing slow piano version of it and got obsessed)

"We heard some noises on the stairway, were you alone?" her mom asked first thing in the morning. The irony that her mom would actually approve of Charles maybe a little too enthusiastically was not lost on Y/N. "Yeah, alone. Bit tipsy, so sorry about that."

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession

He stared silently. Monitoring actions of his girlfriend and having absolutely clear on the mind what to say to her. Part of him wanted to leave the premise immediately. Part of him wanted to scream out his confession. Part of him was astonished that she absolutely did not acknowledge his absence - did she not notice anything? He must have had Y/N scent all over him, punching through the quiet living room. He wanted her to say something. But she just grabbed her workout bag and casually got to the gym. Left him there, bewildered. He wanted to feel guilty, but the lack of emotion from her part was making a really hard thing to follow through. Was he just an asshole? Or someone who forgot to get out of a relationship at the right time and lived in a stale water?

His now fully developed brain decided to jump on the train to the past and he spent his entire morning checking his phone for a text - and not from his girlfriend. For a man who slept about an hour last night, he was surprisingly fresh and energized. Must have been the three orgasms. A lighting of excitement ran through him whenever he came back to those. And there it finally was, his catalysis for a guilt trip.

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush Drink up your movements, still I can't get enough

Mood swings were the one to rule Y/N's day. She felt like dancing around. Woke up to an empty bed, which was a shame, but it saved from potentially an awkward conversation, so maybe she actually appreciated the gesture. With a lazy day ahead of her, she could replay yesterday's night over and over all day. Rarely would the sun shine so brightly through her window. But - mood does swing. Even though he was the one to cheat, she was the one cursing herself over and over again. Not because she felt any sympathy for his girlfriend, on the contrary, the thought that this girl got to have, what Y/N only experienced for one night, anytime, was infuriating. Fuck any girl power bullshit, she was jealous and angry at herself for crumbling so easily. She had been happy, content, on the lookout for someone available to date for fun and maybe love. Not fucking with her old best friend only to develop a crush so massive her apartment felt small. Y/N was content yesterday morning. This morning, she was satisfied, and anything but content. And yet, she couldn't help but smile into her morning coffee, while trying to remain casual and normal in front of her family.

Blow all my friendships To sit in hell with you

"We need to break up," he found himself saying in the early afternoon. There was no plan from his side, no agenda about getting with Y/N or anything like that. He just had to get out of a relationship where he managed to be the cheater. The decision was suddenly so simple, just hard to execute. There were tears. Not his. Mutual understanding is the hardest thing to fake.

Y/N really tried to go about with her day, having lunch with the family, catching up and just generally free Sunday vibes. Only problem was that she was all over the place mentally - short attention span, distracted and having trouble keeping up with longer conversations. Head over in the clouds, fingers tapping nervously. In some ways, she couldn't wait to get back to he daily life in London filled with work and array of distractions. There was no hope for her in this town. Guilt and desire punching through her own integrity. It was in the late afternoon when disturbing messages appeared under Charles Leclerc tag on socials, which she monitored in every available moment. When she saw her own front door on one of the headline photos, that's when she lost it completely. Panic set in when she finally came to a photo that the two of them talking in front of the bar, with speculative headlines.

But we're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre Down the back, but who cares? Still the Louvre

She sat in her room, tired, confused and lonely. Social media doomscroll it was then, trying to desperately ignore any photos of them. Her brain got stuck in a loop when she stumbled upon a slow piano cover of Mamma Mia. Not particularly her favorite song. But it spoke of everything she couldn't put a name on. Their joined history, the change of course, the inevitable return and the sudden urge to get it right this time. It was like being possessed. She had to act this time. At least let him know that she got it wrong the first time. She had loved him. The feeling was just so common in her life that she didn't recognize it only after it was gone.

Look at me now, will I ever learn I don't know how, but I suddenly lose control There's a fire within my soul

She had to see him and it had to be NOW. Powered by the lyrics praising delusion, she was not going to let it slip through her fingers this time. Not even sure his old number was still active, she called him, only to end up in a voicemail without any message. His private socials were deleted or replaced and she could't just walk over to his flat. His girlfriend would be there and the thought of it broke her heart. Was her current state of mind only make things explosive and worse for everyone?

There had been many times she'd let her chances pass her by.

So I made up my mind, it must come to an end

Only once she was standing before Charles's childhood home, ringing the bell, she realized that zero thought went to what she actually wanted to say to him. Fear hit her hard. Seconds turned into minutes and she realized that nobody was probably home. Heart sank low. What was there to do now? She had no idea where he to find him.

They'd walked together for hours. It felt so intoxicatingly refreshing after all those months of no contact. If one got lucky in life, they'd understand the type of connection that does not go away with time. But there was something different in the air that evening, as if their usual hang out spot, just above the town had a different vibe that day. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she's seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere - what if the line got crossed? Would it be such an issue? She knew Charles would never make the first move. What if? Just to know how it feels. Curiosity got the better of her. This was not the first time she glanced at his lips, wondering what they tasted like. But she knew the feelings he might still have for her was something she could not respond to properly. The thought of hurting her best friend was stopping her from ever actually exploring this idea. But, what if? Just this one time.

Thousand of quick thoughts passed through her mind in that one moment - the last few seconds before they kissed for the first time. She was nervous, but it didn't show. Confidently put her hands on his chest, stepped on her toes and put her lips on his. If she was scared, he was borderline terrified. Never expected her to actually do it. Her warm lips touched his own, but he was still trying to process that her hands rested on his chest tenderly. Stiff and shocked seventeen year old boy stood like a rock, trying to catch up with what was just happening. Both of them have had their fair share of kisses and make outs with other people in their life, but this was one different. Somehow, it was harder to kiss someone who actually knew personal things about you. It was no romantic kiss, once Charles finally started to respond, both of them picked up quite a quick tempo and all of that was more close to a drunken teenage make out rather than an honest vulnerable kiss. And still, his soft lips felt really good, her tongue exploring his mouth was sending him to highs unexperienced before. Just as he started to relax and stopped fathoming what was happening, she pulled away. It was all too much, too real and scary for her unsure self. Afraid of loosing her fake confident mask, she had to stop before she lost herself in this. What even was this? She'd be leaving for university soon, so what was the point.

"Sorry," she said immediately and looked anywhere else but his eyes. Stepped back away from him in order to gain more socially acceptable distance. "I dunno, guess I hadn't kissed anyone in a while, so yeah... But this is wrong, sorry for that." There is heartbreak and then there is heartbreak. Charles felt betrayed, she didn't even give him a chance to kiss her properly. He wasn't ready, didn't expect it and now it felt like his one chance got slipped away from him. Once again, he stood there, frozen and processing. She couldn't stand silence. Scary thing to experience in a difficult situation. "I should not have crossed the line, we're really good friends and-" "No," he cut her off, not letting her play this game again. "That's not true and you know that. I never told you in person, which is a really coward move, but that's on me. But you know how I feel. That hasn't changed and I can't imagine it ever will." His words burned like hot sand. "You're right, yes," she replied quickly and wished she could just make herself invisible for a moment. This was all too much to handle. "And that's why I'm saying I'm sorry. I thought ignoring the subject would help you..." "Help me? Help in what, getting over you?" he had to laugh. Where did her delusion end? Was it truly endless? "I don't want that. Definitely not from you. I want you to open your eyes and give us a chance." One thing she couldn't stand was to be pressured to something and this was strongly resembling that. How could someone else try to say what she wanted when she herself wasn't sure?

"Charles, I can't. I need to leave this place and figure out who I am." "Why can't I be a part of that journey?" he said, broken once again. "We would only end up hurting each other and lose our friendship, can't you see that? I want you in my life permanently, so we can't date." "How does any of this make sense in you head," he replied bitterly. While she waved around these big concepts, the one intrusive thought he had was that she was just trying to avoid telling him, that he was just a bad kisser. Her gut was telling her to run away from this. How is one suppose to resist that? "Charles. This whole thing is a mistake. You don't love me and as much as I'd like to, I don't think I love you." The word think punched through Charles like a knife. She wasn't even sure of that... "Well that's it then," he said, knowing the last thing he wanted was to talk her into being with him and have her run to someone else at the first opportunity. He was trying to control the emotional cocktail mixing within him. Trying get his anger, disappointment and wonder lust in check. He tried to read her facial expressions, but the only thing he finally saw was a little girl running away from mature feelings. Suddenly, he understood. She wasn't ready and there was nothing for him to do with that. His job now was to work on his attachment to her, because relying on her was only blocking his own development.

"I think I should get going, big day tomorrow," he lied and waved awkwardly instead of their usual hug. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna stay here for a while, if you don't mind," she said and turned her attention to the stunning view on the mountains, sea and the city below them. To Charles, their favorite hang out spot was ruined. Forever the place where his worst kiss happened. His stomach turned at the thought of that and he knew he needed to get out of there and far away from her immediately. "See you when I see you," he said, walking away. She watched him, hoping the weight on her shoulders would disappear quickly. They didn't speak to each other for more than two years after that.

It was hard to believe, she only came to their favorite spot to reminisce about one of her greatest misjudgement and dwell in her sorrow. But, to her luck, he was already there, looking over at the sea as they had countless times together. Walking towards him felt like walking on a tightrope with the chance of falling down getting bigger with every step.

Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again My, my, just how much I've missed you?

Charles didn't come there to meet up with her. His intention was to run away, to clear his thoughts, come to terms with the fact he had just cheated on someone. Take in the feeling Y/N made him burn with last night. Like some sort of breakthrough - this was they were all singing about. This is why people were able to drop their while life and follow love. It was an old and new love at the same. And that created a complete mess in his head. But when saw a figure coming his way, he knew immediately that she chose this place as well. Charles hadn't been at their spot since the time they first kissed here. Unlike Y/N, who came here anytime she was back in Monaco. She truly didn't expect him to be here - but took it as a sign that there was no way but forward for her. She walked towards him and sat on next to him, joining the view he was getting lost in. No words were shared for the first minute.

Y/N found out only after her university years that physical communication was her way of expressing feelings. Words were a little too messy and hard to put together. So she reached over to gently put her hand over his. She felt him shake a little, but he kept his hand below hers. Which she took as a good sign. Charles was the one to break the silence. "I hope you won't have much trouble online. There are pictures of us circling around," he said bluntly. "I have a very average face, I think I'm good." Charles laughed at her response. "As if." She really wanted not to ask. But the words just slipped out of her tongue. "Will your girlfriend mind?" And immediately after that, she wanted to shoot herself.

Charles took a deep breath. Then smiled bitterly, because what else was there to do. "Do you think so low of me that I could stay with someone once I'd cheated on them?" "Every couple goes through a crisis..." Charles chuckled again. "Have you ever been cheated on?" "Yes," she did not have to think twice about that. "But strangely enough, it was a relief when it finally happened." "See, so you understand." They sat in silence again. There was a feeling in the air like rain was coming. Neither of them moved. "Are you sad about it? Do you regret it?" She took Charles of guard. "Look at you, asking the big questions. What happened to you?" "Grew up, you know. You're not the only one. But don't get me wrong...it's still very hard. Talking." "I can see that," he replied, somewhat amused by her red cheeks. "To answer your important question," he highlighted, making her feel like a school girl passing a test, "I guess I regret the fact I wasn't honest enough to myself before something like that has happened." Y/N got a sudden influx of insecurity. Could it be that he was just unhappy in his relationship and it wasn't about the two of them? She pulled away a bit. Charles picked up on that. But this time, he couldn't put himself on the line first again. Not after what she said all those years ago. "Regret is the worst feeling. I think." "Why would you think?" "It's really hard to get rid of it. It lingers. Stays on." "Is there something you regret?" Somehow, he knew the answer before she did. "Of course. Everyone does." "You're avoiding again." "I know. I am perfectly aware of that." "At least something has changed."

The mood shifted and there was no way back. Charles was about to push like he had never done before. "Y/N. Why did you come here tonight. And be clear, blunt and honest or just leave now. It's been confusing enough even without you." She did not expect him to talk to openly. But she came searching for him, to do the leap, so it was actually appreciated. She started speaking, very slowly. "Um. I was looking for you. Wanted to say...not sure what exactly, but...I guess to let you know that I'd changed my mind. And I understand, you're somewhere else in your life now. But I need you to know." One very impatient Charles spoke when she took a break to breathe. "Know what?" "Charles, you keep interrupting me! Let me just...you know." He nodded in understanding, amused by her giddiness. "I just need to say...When were young, I never realized that the connection we have is special and rare. Stupid as I was, I thought it was just normal and common. And I don't regret not dating you back then. I had to take some time to grow up and understand more about the world. But now I do - and even if you've moved on, I feel like I'm just about to get on this train." He took in everything she said carefully. Tried not to get to ahead of himself.

"Did you ever think of me? Or it this just because last night." This time, it was she who smiled with a sad undertone. Did she ever think of him? Her? Had she spent nights and more nights wishing he'd call? Had she walked aimlessly around Monaco just to run into him? Did she compare every guy she shared a bed with to the times Charles made her feel like she was the only one on this planet that he could see? "One would say it's alarming how often I come back to the days we spent together. How hard it is to be so raw with someone in the same way as I was with you." Charles was slightly overwhelmed by her words. "Look, Charlie, I don't want to put any pressure on you. I had many chances and blew them all. I get it. Just want you to know that this was not a random encounter with an old friend for me." She'd been so focused on the right words coming out, that she missed the moment when Charles got close to her, so his kiss that followed was a surprise to her. Soft and sweet lips touched hers and it was like a release from prison. This time, it felt so right and safe. She didn't want him to end this. But once he inevitably did, fear came in like an unexpected summer storm. Would he be as cruel as she had been back then? Sharing a kiss with her while knowing that he was going to break her heart?

He took a breath in order to speak again. She stopped him with her finger. For just a minute, she wanted to keep this moment intact. To have this possibility of him still having a trace of the love he once had and she now bared as well. "Charles, I know what you're going to say. I can taste the words in your mouth. Please, don't." "So tell me, what am I going to say?" She sighed, slightly annoyed with him pushing her. "You're going to say that you'd moved on and this was just to have some fun. And you know what? Maybe it really is for the better, it was never-" "And this time, I am really going to stop you," he said, staring deeply into her eyes. "It's even harder now that we're adults. I understand that, understand the hardship my lifestyle can bring to the ones closest to me...My love for you never left. Yes, it's way less destructive and I've come to peace with it. But I am also not a scared boy anymore. Y/N, I would like to see you again and not as a friend. I don't think you ever were my friend. But you need to brave and honest too this time. Are you ready for that?" "I want to have all the hardest conversations with you, even if that's all we'd be doing," she laughed, taking in the fact he did not reject her. "I sincerely hope we'll be doing more than that," he said and joined her in easing the tension. "Is this really happening?" she whispered, as if it was a dream. "Yes, I believe it really is."

Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you?

---------------------------------------------------------

@linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals @janeholt3

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #song fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #ferrari f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #best friends to lovers #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #friends to lovers

149 notes · View notes

stvrmhondss · 9 months

Text

it was breaking down (it was falling in love) snippet

max/charles 3.1k words

this is from a wip that is currently in development. we're in 2025, charles and max are fighting each other for the championship for the first time since 2022. max, as always, in red bull. charles, by the grace of god, still in ferrari. it gets complicated.

The party after the last race before summer break isn’t a tradition officially, but somehow there’s always been one; a simple text in the drivers’ group chat letting them know that xyz and I are getting drinks later, you’re all welcome to join and when the rest of them show up to the address provided, there’s somehow always an entire house rented and seemingly bottomless drinks. It’s one of those mysteries of F1 that Charles thinks he’ll never crack.

For the past few years the summer break kickoff has been an opportunity for him to celebrate, not in a let’s raise a glass to a good first half of the season way, but more of a thank god that’s over kind of way. It had always consisted of systematically knocking back glass after glass until he’d been drunk enough to let whatever girlfriend he’d had at the time drag him onto the dancefloor, if he’d had one at the time.

(He always did.)

(Except this year)

For the first time in his F1 career, Charles is leading the championship at the start of the summer break and instead of forcing every driver and his own mechanics to have a drink with him, he’s making himself as small and invisible as possible in a corner, right beside a potted palm tree that straddles the line between looking extremely well cared for and extremely fake. He’s been nursing the same cocktail for almost an hour and has avoided every driver, staffer or intern who wanted to drink to his championship charge. He’s not in the mood. He’s even managed to chase away Alex and Lily to the bar, if just temporarily, his teammate vowing to get him another round to pull him out his funk.

Instead he’s been letting his gaze roam over the open floor, taking note of the people there and pretending he isn’t looking for Max. It’s going semi-well. Charles hadn’t seen him when he’d entered the house with Alex and he hasn’t spotted him since. He’s also been too much of a coward to just grab someone, another driver or a stray Red Bull intern, and ask them whether they’d seen him, whether he’s even here at all. Maybe, it’s for the best – he wouldn’t know what to say to Max anyway. Have you tried a simple ‘I’m sorry’? The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Pierre and it has him take a long sip from his glass.

The horrible thing is, Pierre is right. He should really apologise, but it’s been so long since their fight in Monaco and the silence between them has gotten so loud, he wouldn’t know where to start. He’s also not entirely sure Max wouldn’t just walk away from him if he were to approach him now. Hence his hiding in the corner.

After emptying his glass, he looks around the room again. He spots Lewis on the dance floor, chatting up a model he knows for a fact is too young for him. A little ways off to the side he sees Lando hanging off of his Max’s shoulders and Charles tries valiantly to ignore the ugly twisting of his insides. It reminds him of Imola, just a few short months ago – how Max had told him to let go for once and had stood vigil as he’d gotten drunk and celebrated his first win on Italian soil since 2019, how Max had let him cling to him when he hadn’t been able to stand upright on his own anymore and then had called them both a taxi and had gotten him home. Funny how he’d managed to ruin it all with a single sentence.

Charles is pulled out of his thoughts by wild waving in his periphery and when he turns his head he spots Pierre over by a window with his new girlfriend, whose name Charles had forgotten the minute he’d been introduced to her, obviously trying to get his attention. Confused, he shakes his head and mouths a What? in his direction, to which Pierre starts pointing in the direction of the door in response, an insistent look on his face. Charles turns his head just in time to see Daniel Ricciardo enter the party and he’d wonder about seeing him here when he’d given up his AlphaTauri seat last year in favour of a go in Indycar, if following right behind him wasn’t—

Max.

Charles watches as they’re stopped by multiple people on their way in – there’s plenty of hugs for Daniel and claps on the shoulder for Max – and make a beeline for the impromptu bar. Daniel sees him about halfway there and Charles fights and consequently loses against the urge to shrink in on himself when the instinctive smile he throws at everyone turns into a scowl at the sight of him. So, Max had told him then. Charles doesn’t know what else he’d expected.

(Not this. He hadn’t even known they were still close.)

Max doesn’t look at him once.

He should stop staring, knows it very well won’t help his case in any way, but his eyes stay glued to Max’s form, taking him in – blonde hair, blue eyes, standard white t-shirt and jeans. All viewed from afar, as has become standard over the past few weeks. Charles wants to kick himself. He wonders what would happen if he were to throw aside his pride and cowardice and go over to him now, if he asked to speak to him, to explain. Would Max even spare him a glance? Would he frown and grumble and tell him to fuck off? Would Daniel’s scowl become more severe and would he tell him to get lost?

He doesn’t plan on finding out.

So he watches. Watches as Daniel leans exaggeratedly over the bar to order some drinks and then back to whisper something in Max’s ear that has him laugh in that full-body way of his – head thrown back and hands clasped together, then bending forward, eyes crinkled at the corners and nose scrunched up. Full of delight, full of life. When Max seems to have calmed down a little he moves closer to Daniel, a mischievous look on his face, no doubt saying something just as cheeky in return, and Charles sees Daniel break out in one of his honking laughs before throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in. Just for a moment, Max rests his head on his shoulder and Daniel turns his face into his hair. Just for a moment. Blink and you miss it.

And Charles? Well, Charles wants to die.

Alex and his tray full of drinks are a godsend, Lily clearing the way for him as they come back to join him in his miserable corner, and Charles grabs a glass and knocks it back before Alex even has a chance to put the tray down. When he puts the glass back down, Lily lets out a hoot, slapping the table, while Alex scoffs at him goodnaturedly.

“Were you raised in a barn, mate?” He’s chuckling, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “Where I’m from, you wait until everyone has a glass and then you drink like your life depends on it.” Next to him, Lily cackles, pressing the next drink into his hand and then grabbing one for herself.

“Sorry,” he’s not, really, only tangentially in the way that Alex has been a good sport ever since his fight with Max, letting him be miserable and not making him explain why, and Charles feels bad for making him put up with his bad mood when it’s his first season in the team and he should be having fun instead of babysitting him. But then again, misery and Ferrari go hand in hand and Alex should probably learn to live and work with that, if he wants to survive in the team.

Charles’ fingers itch for another drink.

“Oh, who cares?” Lily raises her glass and waits for them to mirror her. “Let’s fucking party!”

Right before he knocks back his drink, Charles spares another glance over to Max and Daniel, just to see, just because he’s feeling curious and maybe a little masochistic, pressing a finger into an open wound. What he sees makes him down half of the contents of his tall glass all at once – Max is fully pressed into Daniel’s side, Daniel’s arm around his waist, fingers on that tantalising dip of it that Charles had found himself staring at more than once, and Daniel’s once again leaning in, whispering something into his ear that makes him smile. Charles wants to throw up.

He loses track of how much he drinks after that.

One, two, ten hours later, he looks up from his fourth – twelfth? – glass and sees Max making his way over to and up a stairwell that he vaguely remembers leads to a balcony. He’s alone, Daniel nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, he excuses himself from the table and stumbles over to follow him before Alex and Lily can protest. The way up the stairs is perilous and he has to cling to the bannister to hold himself upright, hoping he’s not making so much noise he gives himself away.

When he finally reaches the balcony, he finds it miraculously empty, except for Max, standing at the railing and looking out into the night. A few lanterns bathe him in soft, warm light and Charles’ heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He’s so beautiful, always has been in his own way, the charmingly gangly, awkward teenage limbs turned strong and broad, handsome. Growing up alongside Max had been complicated and a little painful – at 15 years old, how do you know you hate the guy you’re competing against because of his dirty tricks and raw talent and not because his eyes are as blue as a summer sky? How do you know your palms are sweaty because of the adrenaline of a good fight on track and not because he smirked at you right before he put his helmet on? They’re questions Charles has never quite managed to answer and is keenly reminded of now at 27 years old, standing on a balcony somewhere in Belgium with his heart beating out of his chest at the mere sight of Max. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have a clear answer.

His drunken lean to the side has him knock over a decorative cat figurine with a loud clang, startling Max in front of him like a deer hearing a sudden noise in what it had assumed to be an empty clearing. He whips around and when he sees Charles trying to right himself, an unhappy scowl settles on his pretty lips.

“What do you want, Charles?”

I want to go back in time and smack myself for what I said to you. I want you to smile at me like you used to, like you smiled at Daniel and I don’t know what that means. I want us to be okay. I want to win and I want you by my side when I do. I want us to be alright.

“Nothing, I just—,” he’s pretty sure he’s slurring, which seems to not be helping his case as Max’s expression doesn’t lighten. In fact, it does the opposite, making Charles trail off, falling quiet as Max looks at him expectantly. He doesn’t remember what he’d originally wanted to say, so instead he throws out the first thing that comes to his mind after Your eyes have the colour of a storm I once saw while out at sea.

“You haven’t talked to me since Monaco,” it’s meant as an explanation, but once the words leave his mouth, they sound like an accusation. Max’s frown deepens, his eyebrows furrowing and the corners of his mouth pulling further down. A little more and he’d be pouting. It’s one of the things that’s never changed about him, Charles ponders idly. That stormy, unhappy frown. The only difference between a 27 year old and a 13 year old Max Verstappen frowning at him is a missing, involuntary flush to his cheeks and the lack of acne. The other boys had always made fun of him for it back then – how easily he’d flush, how quickly he’d get irritated. Charles had never minded either; he’d thought it made Max seem more alive.

Now, Max looks alive in a primordial sense, the way the earth itself is – burning, blazing, vengeful.

“Well, I wonder why,” his voice is venomous, face twisted in an ugly sneer, “I wonder why I would not be speaking to you after Monaco.”

Charles feels helpless, like a fumbling child. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—“ But he doesn’t know how to actually express what he wants to say, his mind foggy and slow. He wants to curse Alex for bringing that entire tray of drinks to the table.

He continues to stutter, without saying anything of worth, and he can see Max is losing what little patience he’d had to begin with and – yes, there’s that angry, red flush that’s been missing in his cheeks before.

“Do you actually have anything to say to me,” Max’s shoulders are heaving, his breath heavy, “or do you just want to waste my time and stand here, staring at me like a drunk idiot?”

It’s meant to cut him and it does; Charles flinches from the impact, sure that if he were to raise his fingers to his cheek, they’d come away bloody. The thing is, he has so much to say, so many things that have been long overdue, that he should’ve said months, maybe years ago, but now that he has Max in front of him, in all his furious beauty, his brain can’t put the words in order, can’t form the sentences he needs to say to salvage whatever he had, could’ve had, with Max. The alcohol isn’t helping either.

In his drunken stupidity, he says the worst thing he could possibly say in this moment.

“I saw you with Daniel, earlier.”

It’s horrible, it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever said. It does nothing to convey what he actually wants Max to hear, instead he manages to make it sound like an accusation again when all he’d wanted to say was I saw you with Daniel earlier and you looked happy, happier than you have over the past few weeks and I wanted to kick myself for being the source of your sadness, when I only want to see you smile and laugh and be joyful.

Max’s face is wrathful, his breath quickening and Charles isn’t quite sure whether he’s just imagining the thunder he hears in the distance.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” his voice is tight, controlled and shaking with white hot rage. Charles resists the urge to flinch. He deserves Max’s anger and he’ll take it. He’ll take anything Max is still willing to give him.

“I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and yet you complain about me not talking to you when you haven't even tried to speak with me. I thought you needed time to cool off, so I gave you space, of course, but you keep insisting on this childish grudge over nothing. You ignore me, give me the cold shoulder, and say to the press that we’re not friends when I did nothing you wouldn’t have done if you’d been in my place. Mind you, I didn’t even say anything to the media when I damn well should’ve, but of course, you still find something to complain about.”

Max is panting and the toll this entire conversation is having on him is evident in the pinched corners of his mouth, however, he doesn’t seem to be done just yet.

“And now, for the first time in what feels like ages, I’m having a fun night and you decide to pester me and complain about me spending it with Daniel, when it’s none of your business? When you and I, as you’ve insisted, are nothing?”

Charles reels back from the impact as if Max had physically slapped him across the face. You and I are nothing. He sees champagne showers in Australia. You and I are nothing. Breaking into the Circuit de Monaco at night. You and I are nothing. Max scaring everyone into packing their phones away when Charles had been drunk and without inhibitions in Imola. You and I are nothing. Dancing in the streets of Miami at night.

You and I are nothing.

It’s terrible.

He deserves it.

Max prepares to breeze past him back inside and Charles instinctively grabs onto his arm to make him stay, to make him not leave him. His movements are slow and his grip as weak as a kitten, Max could shake him off easily, but he doesn’t. He glares at him, a fire raging in his eyes, and opens his mouth to undoubtedly berate him again. Deliriously, Charles remembers that the hottest flames burn blue.

Before he can think better of it, his lips fit themselves over Max’s, quelling any upcoming rant. Any rational or coherent thought dies out in his mind and when he tries to think of any reasons why this is the worst thing he could do, he gets as far as Max’s lips are soft before he loses the thread and closes his eyes.

Horribly, Charles feels a startled hum against his lips and then Max is leaning in, letting him carefully cradle his face with his free hand. He’s even allowed to deepen the kiss, sneaking his tongue past Max’s lips and sliding his hand in his hair, and for an exhilarating moment he has Max in the palms of his hands, warm and lovely, and he wants to keep him like this for as long as he’s allowed to.

When Max recoils from his touch, it’s with enough force to send him stumbling backwards. The look on his face is devastating when Charles opens his eyes again. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes – anger, disappointment, fear, pain. Charles feels monstrous. His mouth opens and closes several times, but no words make it out alive.

To Charles’ horror, there’s tears pooling at the corners of Max’s eyes. Regret is a bitter, nasty thing to swallow and he knows his face must be doing something complicated and sad. He finds his voice in the most inopportune of moments.

“Max, I—,” he sounds scratchy and choked up, even to his own ears, and Max doesn’t let him get any further, storming past him through the open balcony doors and back inside, knocking their shoulders together in his desperation to get away from him and sending Charles careening into a potted plant. As he picks his way out of the leaves, he hears a door slam inside.

Charles looks up at the stars and wishes that just for once, he wouldn’t ruin everything he loves.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #f1 #f1 fic #f1 rpf #my stuff #my fic #hi i'm not dead #just chugging along and never actually finishing a fic #still love me pleek

206 notes · View notes

elisysd · 3 months

Text

2. Square one, my slate is clear

Masterlist - Previoulsy - Next

Soundtrack: Square One - Caamp

He was relieved to not see you around the paddock in Saudi Arabia. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t have been able to handle your comments on his penalty and probably would have snapped. He was pissed off enough because of that and snapping wouldn’t help him. He didn't need that. Ferrari didn’t need that. Even though his race was okay, he was feeling frustrated. Frustrated over a car that he was trying to push way too much, a team that was not really listening to him, beside Fred with whom he had a very close relationship with and who at times, felt like the only trustworthy person around him.

Once he was done with his duties he finally managed to find his brother, Arthur, in hope of congratulating him for his P8. He hadn’t had the time to see him before his F2 race and he felt a bit guilty about it. He had always made sure he would be there for him no matter what and he couldn't handle letting him down, even if deep down he knew it wouldn’t even cross Arthur’s mind. He met him in the Ferrari’s hospitality as he was talking to their big brother, Lorenzo.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be there for you.” Charles apologized, taking Arthur in his arms.

“It’s fine. I’m glad, P8 is not that bad and I’ll be able to keep on improving.”

“Still. I promised I would always watch your races and here I am already failing.”

“You’re not failing. You have things going on and places to be. It’s okay, I understand. and I know where to find you if I need you.”

“You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what.” Charles insisted.

“I know. Maybe there is something you could help me with?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

“I still have to get used to the media and to the interviews. I had a long one with a journalist from French TV and I was so nervous that I think I stuttered a bit.”

Charles saw red. Immediately.

“Did she tell you her name?” he asked, so urgently that it earned him a weird look from both of his brothers.

“Y/N. But, that’s okay, she was very laid back and made sure I was at ease, she was nice. Very nice and she even joked to make me feel better. And she is very pretty.” he added, glancing at Charles who had heard only half of his answer, focused on the fact that you might have tried to play with Arthur.

“You should tell your team to not let her be near you, she has something against me and I don’t want her to get you as leverage to hurt me.”

“Have you heard yourself? She is a journalist, not part of the damn mafia!” Arthur argued in disbelief.

“Still. Be careful.”

“I don’t see how such a cute and nice girl could be so dangerous.” Arthur mumbled as Lorenzo looked at the F1 driver, amused.

“Don’t start to develop a crush on her, you have a girlfriend.”

“She's not my type. She is more yours.” Arthur playfully joked as Charles glared at him.

“Not you too. First Silvia, now you, it has to stop. No girls for me this year, I need to focus on the championship…. and I really mean it. My career first. Ferrari is a sinking ship, I need to be one hundred percent focused on it.”

He chose to ignore the looks on his brothers’ faces. He was serious, dating was out of the equation, he had too much work, too many things to do. He could try casual dating but it was not his thing. So if he had to swear on celibacy for the time being, then so be it. He saw Arthur about to reply but thankfully, Fred had just entered the room, a smile on his face. He patted Charles on the shoulders, briefly congratulated Arthur for his race and asked Lorenzo how he was doing, before announcing that he had planned a little dinner between the team in a nice restaurant to relax and bond after the weekend. Charles was about to say that he was not in the mood to socialize but quickly avoided it when he saw the hard gaze of his team principal. He wouldn’t offer him a way out on this one.

Charles found himself sitting in a very fancy but at the same time intimate setting, next to Carlos, and in a nice and laid back atmosphere. It was nice. He felt like he could finally relax and enjoy himself a little bit. He was joking with Xavi when, from the corner of his eyes he saw a group of people entering the restaurant. It didn’t take long for Charles to notice you immediately, somehow standing out, for a reason he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. And as if you were feeling his eyes on your skin, you turned your head in his direction meeting his blue-green orbs. He saw you raising an eyebrow, almost defying him before nodding your head, in order to greet him. As you were taking your seat, Charles couldn’t help but keep on staring at your figure. You were wearing a tight black dress, your hair in a more elaborate ponytail than the one you were usually wearing in the paddock. Arthur was right, you were pretty. Even more than that if he had to be honest with himself. You were stunning. But he knew that you would be even more if you were not as insufferable.

He felt distracted, more than he should be. Your mere presence was enough to make his skin itching and his legs bouncing. It was stupid, he knew it, it was not like you were about to jump on him to harass him with your questions. But he was suddenly mindful of his movements, of the way he was holding his fork, of the way he was chewing on his steak, of the napkin on his lap and of the weird looks Fred and Andrea were giving him. From the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t help but watch you in a way he hoped was not too obvious. It was just little side glances, here and there. You looked happy, at ease, closer to the portrayal Arthur depicted of you than the one Charles had faced. He looked at the people surrounding you. Jean, Marion… the team that was on the Grand Prix. He knew them well, he was even happy to call Jean his friend. Always there outside of the tracks when he needed someone to talk to. His gaze lingered on you a bit longer than necessary. You were oddly fitting with them. You were laughing, expressing yourself with your hands, a bright smile on your face, the one that was making your cheeks hurt. You looked younger when you acted like that, he thought. Far away from the ruthless girl he had met and was asking him petty questions. He started to doubt. Maybe, after all, the problem was coming from him, maybe he was somehow responsible for your cold attitude towards him. Maybe he had met you in the past and had acted like an ass to you and that’s why you didn’t seem to be able to give him the time of the day. As if his feet had a mind on their own, he got up and walked to your table. He saw your surprised face when he stood right next to you and didn’t miss the sigh of annoyance you breathed in his direction.

“Charles! We didn’t see you!” Jean exclaimed, putting a hand on the Ferrari driver's shoulder.

“Yeah, I saw you and I was debating on whether or not I should come by. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“How are you doing? The penalty was harsh but you managed to race well.”

“Yeah, it was impressive.” Marion admitted.

“Thanks guys. It was a tough race.” he humbly said, his eyes glued to your figure who was suddenly finding your chocolate cake very interesting.

Unfortunately for you, it suddenly seemed quite evident that Charles wasn’t going anywhere. He had suddenly taken a chair and was sitting next to Marion and right beside you. You could still smell his sandalwood aftershave hitting your nostrils. And when you felt his knee slightly brushing yours, you jumped.

“I’m sorry, I forgot that it’s my friend’s birthday tonight and I forgot to call her. Don’t wait for me.” you apologized, almost running away from the table.

Minutes passed and when it became clear that the door would keep on being closed, Charles decided to go searching for you. He went back quickly to his table to gather his things and say goodbyes before going outside. You were there, staring straight ahead of you, not even blinking or flinching when he approached. But Charles didn’t fail to notice the goosebumps on your skin and your slight shiver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, unsure but was met with only silence from your side. “It’s rude to not reply, you know?”

It finally made you look at him, your eyes staring right in his, still silent. Charles started to feel frustrated, he wanted to hear your voice, anything that could break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen down on both of you.

“Feeling less confident without a mic? You can’t hide anymore. It’s you and me, fighting like equals. No cameras, nothing.”

“I didn’t think you were nice.” You finally blurted out, throwing him off of his feet. “You… you have such a polished image, so neat, so…perfect. Never a word higher than the others. Always a nice smile and a word for everyone. So gentlemanly. No one is ever this kind and polite, I thought it was just a facade, that you must hide something. Because, surely, you can’t be that perfect.” You explained and Charles let out a sigh of relief.

“Well… that’s a very sad thought to have. I wonder what kind of assholes you must have met to have this view of the world. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I like to think that I’m a decent human being.”

“You would be surprised by the amount of not so nice people I’ve met these past few years.”

“Yeah?”

“I attract assholes.”

“I’m sure it’s not true.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re here, no?” you half smiled and Charles knew it was an attempt at a joke. A poor one.

“Well, maybe I could show you that not all people are assholes.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” you asked.

“What about starting from scratch?” he explained, extending his hand in your direction. “I’m Charles. What about you?”

Author's note: There is a little progress. Tiny, baby, little steps, but hey! You seriously didn't think I woud make it easy for them?

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody

79 notes · View notes

lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

Text

Not Like Us

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Request:

Helloo! Could I maybe request a fic where charles is dating a reader who is like medium sized and the fans are like being really mean to her and she overhears comments in the paddock about how he could get with any model etc and he notices she's starting to eat less and he's worried abt her etc . also, I really love your work!

Summary: The development of an eating disorder after you realize Charles wants something you aren’t.

Warnings: TW!!!! EATING DISORDER! Angst, fatphobia, language.

Word Count: 3927

Authors note: I really hope I have done this request justice <3 This is always such a delicate subject and I need anyone and everyone to know, if you even think you could be going down this road, please seek help! Your body needs to be strong and healthy and that is all that matters. It does not matter what you look like, it will never matter what you look like, you just need to be healthy, whatever that could possibly look like for you in your each and individual circumstance! And Mental health is one of the biggest factors of that!! Your value and worth will never ever ever be linked to your weight or how you look. If this is where you are currently, where you are headed or you know someone in this situation, pleas be kind, please be gentle and please please please get help my sweets <3 There is also nothing wrong with slimmer people either! Every body type is different and healthy in their own ways, so please just, the point is to love and respect yourself always because then you do the same for others <3 I hope you enjoy this.

_____

“You know you deserve better Charles, come on, stop playing this stupid little game, she isn’t like us, god, the least she could do is lose some weight to stop embarrassing you so much”

It must have looked so odd, you flat against the side of the motorhome, seemingly eavesdropping on the conversation that was happening behind it, a sinister undertone to it all, and you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, normally trusting Charles completely, except, this time, the girl with him was absolutely sinister. This was Katie and she had wanted Charles for longer than you’d even known him, and she was exactly what you’d expect a woman dating one of the world most eligible bachelors would be, beautiful, rich, one of those go getters, you know the kind, the one’s more than happy to step over whoever they needed in order to get what she wanted, and most relevant to this exact conversation, she was so terrifyingly skinny. The kind of skinny you always told yourself you didn’t admire, that you would never do that to yourself because who would ever want to give up everything good just to look like that?

But the deeper, darker truth was, that you did, that you would. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you so desperately wished you could look like her and that you could have her self-discipline. But you didn’t, and so you just, were so much bigger than she was.

You’d never ever thought of yourself as that much bigger than girls like her, you knew you were bigger, but God, not that much? You were what you’d considered a normal, healthy woman? Maybe you were just wrong. Maybe you had an over inflated ego? Maybe she was wrong? Maybe she was just insecure?

“I know”

Did, did Charles just agree with her?

You couldn’t stand there anymore, you had to go. You felt the heat from the embarrassment creep up your neck and onto your face. It was hot, too hot, you had to go.

He agreed.

You moved through the paddock quickly, head ducked low, thankful that this was Charles’ home race, thankful you had your home to run to in order to escape the embarrassment. No. This wasn’t embarrassment, this was, devastation. This was your heart being ripped out of your chest by your boyfriend. The man you loved, who you adored, the man you thought adored you. He had told you enough times that he had. Was he just lying? Had he been lying to you the entire time?

Your throat suddenly felt tight, the lump forming too quickly, tears threatening to start spilling. God why were there so many people here. You ignored everyone as you near ran out of the paddock. Fumbling with your pass as your hands shook.

He agreed.

As you managed to make it onto the streets you knew too well, the streets of your home, making your way mindlessly towards your flat, your mind wandered back to the conversation between Charles and the woman you now knew you hated. She had called you fat, she had called you different, he had called you an embarrassment and he had agreed. You could almost picture his face as she said those words, twisting in disgusting, and then you pictured hers, a smirk as she heard him agree with her, and this replayed over and over again, all the way to your flat, and you willed yourself not to cry.

You had just made it inside your flat before you couldn’t hold it in anymore, you slammed the door shut and had your forehead pressed to the cool wood and the floodgates had opened. You wept. Every fear you didn’t even realize you had come true in a two-sentence conversation you happened to overhear.

HE FUCKING AGREED WITH HER!

You weren’t even sure who you were angry with? Him? Maybe, for agreeing with that woman, the woman he knows wants him all to herself or maybe her? How dare she fucking say that about you, to your boyfriend no less? And he didn’t even defend you?

Or with yourself, because here, all alone, maybe you could admit that they were right.

_____

Katie had caught Charles by surprise, dragging him behind the motorhome before he could even begin to struggle against her, not that it would have been all that much of a struggle, considering she weighed about nothing. Charles didn’t mean to judge her, it was a sense a pride for him that he never thought badly about people no matter what they weighed from an aesthetics point, but her, God, she was so unnaturally skinny, and he had no idea how she even survived day to day? How did she hold her own? Charles never thought he had a type, but lord knows he now knew he loved strong women, women with some meat on their bones, women who he knew could take care of themselves and that were healthy, women like his girlfriend.

In the time Charles had all of these thoughts run through his head, Katie had begun talking to him, and by the time he paid attention he had only caught the tail end of her self-righteous monologue.

“You know you deserve better Charles, come on, stop playing this stupid little game, she isn’t like us, god, the least she could do is lose some weight to stop embarrassing you so much”

“I know”

He hated the smug look that had crept up onto her face and he couldn’t wait to see it be wiped off in just a moment.

“So then, please explain why you are still with her”She looked like she had won some sort of prize, and Charles hated her for it. He hated that she looked down on you because you weighed more than her, despite the fact that he knew that she wasn’t healthy, he knew from some of his other friends the lengths Katie had gone in order to stay this skinny, and he knew this was definitely an eating disorder.

He hated how she looked down at you and he pitied her for how she hated herself.

“Because you’re right, she isn’t like you and that is the exact reason I love her. She is one of the most phenomenal women I have ever had the privilege of meeting and I will fight tooth and nail to keep her in my life Katie. Jesus, you are so focused on what people fucking look like and it is fucking pathetic at this point. And for the record, Y/n, she is strong and healthy and loves herself and lord knows when she has my children, God willing, she is going to teach my children to love themselves relentlessly and I just can’t believe I am trying to justify my girlfriends looks to you at the moment. I’m done Katie, stay away from me, stay away from Y/n, and please, genuinely, as someone who just cares, please get help, because you’ve lost too much” Charles felt the heat from his rage creep up onto his face as he stormed away from Katie, ignoring her protests and the insults she flung at him, wanting nothing more than to find you and worship every single inch of your body, not caring that he was technically at work, but he needed to ground himself and if that involved the two of you hiding in an abandoned office as he did so, well, he will take what he can get.

He looked for ages before he finally opted to try and phone you, the call being declined almost instantly and a message coming through not long after that.

“Felt sick, went home, good luck for the race” It was all he had gotten from you. He had tried two more times, each being declined as the worry grew in his chest, messaging you that he loved you and hoped you felt better soon, and he’d come by after the race.

There was no reply.

_____

It had been one year since that day, and you were quite literally a different person by this point. You hated to admit it, but you had thrived off of the new comments about your body, ignoring the more concerned ones that littered through the comments on social media, focusing only on those built you up.

“Oh my god look how good she’s looking”

“Charles must be so much happier now that she’s lost all that weight”

“Well done girlie!!!!! You look so much better with all that weight off”

It was comments like that that had made it all absolutely worth it, and Lord knows it had been difficult. Gym twice a day, minimum and majorly restricted eating was tough, but you had done it. You’d finally fit into clothing all those other girls could and you felt so much better looking in the mirror, although, you knew you had a few more kilos to lose, this was an amazing start, and the look on katies face made it even better, because now suddenly you were equals, equally as pretty, equally as disciplined and now equally as skinny, actually, you think you might be even smaller than her now.

What was truly great though, the thing that really made all of this worth it, was whenever Charles would look at you, whenever you got undressed in front him, which you were doing more and more frequently the more and more you lost, his eyes would rake over your figure, his fingers would drag along your skin, you loved the feeling of when he tapped against the bones in your hips, the sound of skin against bone and you knew he loved it.

You weren’t an embarrassment anymore.

You knew he now fully loved you.

And so, you promised yourself you wouldn’t stop, not yet, you needed to be smaller, because if you were smaller, then you weren’t an embarrassment and if you weren’t an embarrassment then Charles would love you.

You would love you.

_____

“Lunch” Lorenzo plopped down next to you, placing the salad in front of you, his own pasta dish in front of him, shoving Arthurs across the table. The two boys immediately tucked into their lunch with their eyes avoiding you while you sat, pushing a strawberry around as you gathered up the courage to eat.

You had already had your allotted calories for the day, Charles insisting on foods that you’d hadn’t had in months for breakfast, and you had felt sick since then. You’d resigned yourself to not eating this salad. Lorenzo and Arthur wouldn’t question you, they were happy that you’d lost the weight too, they were happy for Charles, they were happy for you. They wanted you to lose more. They would understand. They would encourage it.

Yes. Okay, it was decided. You weren’t eating lunch. If you were remembering correctly, you were allowed to have something small this evening and then you wouldn’t be eating until tomorrow afternoon again.

No salad now.

“You not eating?” Arthur asked through a mouth full of food, glancing between you, the salad and Lorenzo.

“Oh no, I ate this morning” you shot him a smile, they’d understand. They’d encourage it.

“Yeah, that’s breakfast, this is lunch?” Lorenzo shot Arthur a look as you laughed, although it sounded more forced than the natural laugh they were used to hearing. Both Charles and Lorenzo had spoken to him about this, nearly trained him on how to talk to you about food and eating, knowing they had to do this delicately lest they do any more damage than had already been done.

“I’ll eat later, don’t worry little Leclerc, I’m gonna go to the bathroom” you kissed Arthur on the head as you made your way around the table and they watched you, like a hawk as you left, neither forgetting the day you had stumbled because you were so dizzy. You put it down to getting up to quickly. They knew it was because you hadn’t eaten in nearly 2 days.

“What the fuck was that?” Lorenzo whispered towards Arthur, ready to climb into his little brother who sat before him, mouth full and eyes wide.

“Isn’t she getting better?” Arthur genuinely thought he had heard Lorenzo and Charles discussion how you had gotten better, he truly thought it was a harmless comment.

“No, we were talking about how she ISN’T getting better, and we may need to get her admitted so she CAN get better you tit!” Lorenzo hated having to deal with this situation, hated constantly having to keep his eye on you and your eating habits and report back to Charles, but he didn’t hate it because it was a burden, he hated it because the situation had gotten this bad at all. The entire family had grown to love you, God, you were family at this point, both Arthur and Lorenzo having sat for hours with Charles going through ring options for the one he was going to eventually propose to you with, but that had all been put on hold as the fear of losing you before that could even happen had gripped the entire family, and if it had a hold on all of them, it had a vice grip on Charles.

“I’ve got to go chat with Charles, just, stay here with her, don’t talk about food or weight or just, talk about, the race, that’s it, that’s all you’re allowed to talk about, the race, I’ll come get you two when I’m done” Arthur nodded as Lorenzo got up and left him there waiting for you.

Arthur hated that this is what your relationship had become with him, planned conversation because you hadn’t even realised you’d gotten so sick, you two used to have so much fun, your inside jokes had even disappeared, your sickness overshadowed everything, and he felt bad for being angry with you about that. He knew you were sick, he had it explained to him enough times to get it, but he was still angry. He was angry that he couldn’t just be himself with you anymore. He was angry that every single little thing had to be planned just because you might get worse. He hated that this had driven his brother into a hole of anxiety at the fear that he might lose you, not because you broke up or anything but because you were withering away to nothing.

He hated that you were willingly killing yourself. Did they not make you happy? Did they not make you feel loved? Were they not enough to stick around for?

_____

“Didn’t touch her salad, said she’d-“ Lorenzo stopped as soon as his eyes landed on Pierre in Charles drivers’ room.

“He knows, it’s okay” Charles urged his brother on, desperately hoping that they had managed to get you to eat today, because if they hadn’t, the Charles was going to make the executive decision to get a psychologist to admit you.

“Kind of hard to miss” Pierre didn’t mean for it to sound so rude, but everyone knew what was going on, well, everyone but you it seemed. He was thankful Charles had spoken to him about it first, because if he didn’t, Pierre was going to have to start the awkward conversation with his best friend about the fact that the woman he loved was killing herself, and now that Charles had looped him in on what was going on, it meant there was more he could do to help.

“She didn’t touch her lunch?” Charles had pushed off the wall he was previously leaning on, making his was to the centre of the room to have this discussion with his brother.

“She said she’d eat supper, said she’d eaten breakfast, didn’t want to push her” Lorenzo could feel the fear radiating off of his brother as silence settled between the three men in the driver’s room, both Lorenzo and Pierre waiting for Charles to decide what he was going to do from here on, both knowing that he’d given the deadline till today before he got professionals involved.

What they didn’t expect was the reaction that Charles had given.

The silence was shattered as Charles threw what they could only assume was his phone against the wall, and then there he stood, mouth wide, a scream ripping through the room, face red and a ragged breath was all that followed after a few moments.

The entire garage had gone silent, Lorenzo popping his head out the door just to reassure everyone that Charles was okay. Pierre’s head dropping, staring at the floor, making sure he stayed to help Charles, but making sure he still gave him his privacy.

“I’ll call the psychologist tomorrow” it was all he could get out.

What else was there to say? They had tried. He had tried, but he couldn’t stand there and watch you waste away anymore and clearly what he was doing just wasn’t enough.

“I’ll talk to her tonight, and I’ll call the psychologist tomorrow” he wasn’t sure who he was telling this plan to, Pierre and Lorenzo or himself.

“It’s for the best” Pierre tried to reassure his friend, oddly grateful that you’d actually be getting the help you need. Finally.

“I know” Why did Charles feel so scared then? Why was he dreading this so much?

_____

“What do you want for supper” Charles was throwing out a hail Mary, praying that you would give him something.

“Oh, I ate a big lunch, don’t stress about me my love, want me to make you something though?” you wished you had felt bad about lying to him, but it had gotten so easy. You had justified it that you didn’t want to bother him with all of this, he could just reap the rewards of it.

“You didn’t though” this was it. He was going to talk to you about this. It was now or never.

“Of course I did baby-“

“Lorenzo told me you didn’t” were you seriously just lying to him?

“Why do you sound upset?” Charles could do nothing other than stare at you, wide eyed.

“Why do I sound upset? WHY DO I SOUND UPSET? MY GIRLFRIEND! THE WOMAN I PLAN ON MARRYING IS STARVING HERSELF TO DEATH” he knew shouting wasn’t the right thing to do, but he had already exhausted every other option,

“I’m calling a psychologist tomorrow” just rip the band aid off.

“What do you mean you’re calling the psychologist tomorrow?” he couldn’t do this to you. Everything you had worked so hard for. He couldn’t do this when this is what he wanted.

“You need help Y/n, you need help and I have tried everything, and it is not working, I don’t know what else to do” he couldn’t look you in the eye, not with how betrayed you looked, “I can’t lose you”.

“Charles! This is what you wanted!” how had he suddenly just changed his mind? How had he just dismissed all the work you had done?

“What I wanted? What the fuck have I done to make you think I could have ever wanted this? I am here, worried out of my mind that you are going to die because you have lost so much weight and you think this is what I wanted? You are the woman I love, you were strong, you were healthy, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen AND YOU HAVE BEEN KILLING YOURSELF!” what had he done, how had he fucked up this badly, “What did I do to ever make you feel less, how do I fix this, please, fuck, I need to fix this!”

“Katie”

“What the fuck does Katie have to do with this? She’s been out of our lives for the last year?”

“Yeah, about a year ago, I heard you two talking, and she said I was embarrassing you and you deserved better, and I wasn’t one of you guys and I was fat and then you said ‘I know’” the memory was still so vivid, for both of you.

“How long did you stick around for that conversation?” Shit, this might have been his fault.

“I left as soon as I heard you say you agreed with her” you had to sit down, a combination of not eating and the stress of this conversation getting too much for you.

“Okay, so you completely missed me telling her that I know that you’re different from her and that’s why I love you and think you’re beautiful? You missed me telling her to fuck off and stay the hell away from me and you? You missed all of that, chose not to talk to me about it and then decide to literally kill yourself via starvation?” he watched as the realization dawned on you, he watched your face drop, and he thought he would feel better once you had finally gotten it, but he didn’t he still felt sick, he was still scared, “I just want you back.”

“Charles, please, I didn’t realize, I’m sorry” you weren’t sure if you were sorry though, you liked how this all had made you feel and you knew he knew it too.

“Okay, then I’m calling the psychologist tomorrow and you’ll get help”

“Charles-“

“No, that’s the only option here” he was going to throw up, “I can’t sit here and watch you wither away”

“What do you mean?” you felt bile rise up into your throat, surely he couldn’t be insinuating,

“You either are going to go and get help or I have to leave” This isn’t how he wanted things to go, this was cruel, and he knew it, but if this is what it took, then he’ll be the bad guy, he would happily be the bad guy, you could hate him till he died for all he cared, all that mattered was that you got better.

The silence went on for too long, he was so sure you would choose him, but suddenly that confidence started to waver, the longer you sat staring at the table, the less he was sure you would choose him.

“I’m scared” you whispered out.

“You aren’t going to be doing this alone, I’m here, and as long as you’re fighting, so am I, please, my love, please, I can’t watch you do this to yourself, not anymore” Charles was one more ‘please’ away from getting on his knees and begging.

“Call them” he let out a breath was didn’t even know he was holding, making his way to you, needing to hold you, thanking every god out there that he hadn’t lost you just yet.

“Thank you, thank you baby, I love you” and for the first time he let himself cry, the relief and fear both coursing through him and this was the outlet, he knew you were still there, the you he had fallen in love with, the confident you, the you he knew that loved yourself, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as you both stayed silent, the evident battle ahead of you becoming more and more real the longer you sat there, but before you both started on that journey you sat there, in silence, thankful for the love that existed in this space, the love that was brave enough to do whatever it took to make sure you got better.

“Thank you for still loving you”

_____

Taglist:

ricsaigaslec

amulhermaisfelizdomundo

miniminescapist

0-atmilk-latte

d0ntjudgemy50shades

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #monaco #f1 x reader #pierre gasly #Charles Leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc x you #x reader

1K notes · View notes