#carlos: the team needs to talk to him
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F1 Grand Prix of Singapore 2015
#versainz reunion couldn't happen bc of The Father#i was only gonna share the Bad Boy quote bc i think it's very funny#but here we are#carlos: the team needs to talk to him#toro rosso talking to max: you have done nothing wrong ever in your life#also.#the dad shade#2015
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it’s missing julie e os fantasmas hours
#one of the few times in childhood where my ship was endgame#yes i was a nicolas girl#and yes i haye what they did to him on the remake#nick was so boring 😔#also not a fan of the julie and luke dynamic#i prefered how much of an asshole daniel was tbh#like my man was haunting nicolas and then telling julie he wouldn’t date her even if he was human#the layers lmao#i still love luke tho#it was a whole separate thing#but like julie and daniel had that enemies to lovers thing going on and i liked it#still team nicolas lmaoo#i need to rewatch bc there’s a lot i don’t remember#like they also had a fourth member who didn’t die right?#he wasn’t important but i feel like he was casually mentioned when they talked about their death right?#like i didn’t made that up#i really was hoping we would have a season 2 of jatp where flynn and carlos could see the ghosts#so we could get some of the dynamic like pedrito with felix and martim
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god i'll never get tired of praising his italian!! he's probably one of the few drivers that speaks it the most eloquently and he could pass in every way for an actual Italian Man.
Oh to have your hair look like this when it's raining 😭😭
#the only driver that tops this#in my opinion#it's nico rosberg#he should have the italian citizenship#but back to carlos#he has an accent but it sounds so similiar to a large part of italian's accents that it really only reinforces it#me and my besties always joke that he probably has italian origins from the south#and i mean.... would make a lot of sense actually#he obviously doesn't speak it 100% perfectly#but so do most of italians!#sjajaajaj#giuro parla meglio di francesco totti#and even aesthetically talking he looks so italian he drives me crazy#i can't let him go from this team only bc i could perfectly fuse my proudness for him and the patriotism that comes out of me when#ANY italian team wins#I NEED HIM BACK IN AN ITALIAN TEAM ASAP#carlitos#carlos sainz jr#brazil gp 2024#also his hair!!!!!!!!!!#it's absurd that he only uses shampoo wtf this is unfair
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but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
carlossainz55
liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others
carlossainz55: never forget where you came from
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user100: insert cricket noises here
user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?
user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry
landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)
carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win
landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(
carlossainz55: i'm an only child
landonorris: oh-
user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn
user104: that's so unbelievably fucked
user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER
user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one
yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride
carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you
yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them
carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?
yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family
carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back
yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water
carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you
yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!
user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING
user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP
user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house
maxverstappen1: ugly twins
carlossainz55: really?
maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said
carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her
maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have
user109: OOP
user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't
yourusername
liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary
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user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf
user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her
user116: i'd abandon my family for that face
yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it
charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight
yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator
pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever
charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?
pierregasly: apparently!
yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(
charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me
yourusername: that's my job 🤨
pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves
user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation
oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?
user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?
oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway
user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do
user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points
maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for
yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this
maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track
maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf
yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy
carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)
yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide
maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN
maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you
carlossainz55: i am better than charles
yourusername: lying is a sin
maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell
user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting
user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again
user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in
user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN
f1
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others
tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55
f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!
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user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it
user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh
oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name
yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you
oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit
user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1
user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race
maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!
user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen
maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!
user128: why the fuck were the last two there?
georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓
alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey
yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie
georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!
alexalbon: he's not
georgerussell63: i'm not
user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together
user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop
alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n
user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama
carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well
yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe
carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore
yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?
carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't
oscarpiastri: suck my dick
yourusername: now that's true poetry
user132: oH!
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri
yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go
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user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid
user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause
oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on
yourusername: oh dibs on ring master
logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking
yourusername: okay yes skinny legend
maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe
maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters
charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty
yourusername: and you would be the best at it
oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one
user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?
user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that
charles_leclerc: 🤨
carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant
yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...
carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it
logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)
yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?
yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie
carlossainz55: i have friends?
yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference
carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it
yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?
yourusername: QUICKLY.
fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me
user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio
user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again
charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever
maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog
yourusername: boy do i have news for you
carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him
yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first
charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to
user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others
tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us
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user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog
user143: glow up of the century some might say
liked by charles_leclerc
yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism
charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3
maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION
yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?
maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey
yourusername: girl are WE good?
maxverstappen1: no
yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY
charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here
user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions
maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man
yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image
maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS
user145: max will nawt let this go
maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived
yourusername: GIRL
maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz
olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure
charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY
yourusername: no he actually is he's crying
charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones
olliebearman: it's okay i swear
charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER
carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free
olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness
user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my
olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail
yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?
user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON
user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination
user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family
oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)
yourusername: the best way to be
charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)
oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando
yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well
oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: first mother's day with my boys
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user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it
user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section
charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children
yourusername: only the best with you :(
charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user152: they're so fucking cute
user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months
user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)
oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx
yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie
danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?
yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...
danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him
user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine
oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz
yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members
user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck
oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it
maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?
charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids
maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND
charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨
yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can
charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?
yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get
charles_leclerc: oh :(
user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing
carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.
yourusername: you done?
carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me
yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?
carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to
yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you
user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money
yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!
user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN
fin.
note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx
ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3
note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx
taglist: in comments!
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#astonmartinii
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100% Whipped : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: lando is happy to do just about anything for you, which the other drivers are more than happy to remind lando about too
Lando looked around in confusion as sniggers came from around the room, his fellow drivers all looked at him in disbelief, many shaking their heads as he spoke once again.
“There are other things we can talk about,” Max told him, smirking across at Lando opposite him. “We don’t constantly just have to talk about your girlfriend you know.”
Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion as several others nodded in agreement with Max. It was a habit of his, and one he didn’t realise he had either, but the rest of the boys were all too aware of just how much Lando loved to talk about you, to anyone who listened.
They couldn’t help but smile at how fondly Lando spoke of you, the way his smile turned up and his eyes got brighter whenever the conversation was about you. As much as they loved knowing that Lando was happy, they didn’t need telling quite as much as they currently were.
“I don’t just talk about her,” Lando argued, but as the others rolled their eyes, Lando wasn’t quite so confident that he didn’t talk about you as much as they all suggested.
Although he would never admit just how much he adored you, Lando knew that he had been falling hard for you. He loved to gush about you and make sure that everyone else got to see what he saw in you, how kind, caring and funny you were.
The rest of the paddock knew that anyway, but Lando liked to make extra sure that was the case with all of his stories about you.
“Every time she’s not at a race you sit and complain that she’s not there and how much you need her,” Oscar spoke up, “she’s all we talk about on a race weekend.”
“Or when she is there, you refuse to let her out of your sight because you want to make sure that she’s alright,” George added, smirking across at Lando, “you don’t let her lift a finger.”
More and more stories came out as the boys all interjected with the moments that they’d experienced with Lando, seeing firsthand just how in love with you he was.
“I’m just being a good boyfriend,” Lando tried to argue once they eventually fell silent, but even Lando was beginning to realise that he went above and beyond, constantly.
“I think you know how she’s going to spend her day better than she does,” Daniel responded, unable to hold back his laughter. “You used to tell me every day exactly what she was up to, almost as if you knew where she was minute by minute.”
“Really?” Lando asked in surprise, not realising quite how much attention to detail he paid when it came to what you were doing.
“You don’t even realise that you’re doing it half the time.”
Lando’s stature shrunk, sinking down in his seat. “I promise that I’m not as whipped as you guys all probably think I am, it’s not that bad.”
“You are,” Carlos stated, sending Lando a knowing look, “but I guess most of the time it is quite sweet.”
“Aside from the fact that you make the rest of us look like terrible boyfriends,” Charles added.
Lando struggled to hold back his smile, although it wasn’t a competition, he knew that the two of you were a popular couple around the paddock. He felt like he was the standard, showing the others how to take care of your girlfriend properly and not care about what anyone else had to say about it.
“I wonder if she realises how whipped you are for her or whether she’s just used to it all by now,” Oscar spoke up, looking pensively across at Lando.
“I think Y/N is just as whipped for him as Lando is for her,” Daniel very quickly argued, “you should’ve heard some of the conversations we had about him when I was on the team.”
A smile emerged on Lando’s face as some of the boys nodded in agreement again. They were used to listening to you talk about Lando just as much, talking through how amazing his races were time after time as if they hadn’t been there to experience it themselves.
“Would you guys like me to stop talking about Y/N so much?” Lando asked them all.
The group felt quite guilty as Lando stared seriously across at them all. They all knew that he meant it, glancing between themselves as their heads all shook back across at him.
“We’re only messing with you buddy,” George assured him, tapping against his shoulders, “maybe we just don’t need to know every single last detail about her.”
Lando nodded, smiling back across at George. “I’m sure I can tone it down a little bit, the last thing I need is you guys all thinking that I’m whipped.”
“Mate, we all definitely know that you are though.”
He could try to deny it all he wanted, but the boys all knew what he was like. It was something in him that they were never going to change, but as such a popular member of the team, it meant a lot to all of them to see how happy he was with you.
“Don’t even try and deny it,” Max called out as Lando went to speak again, “wear it with pride, some people would kill to have the sort of relationship that the two of you have.”
“Do you really think that?”
“Of course,” Max smiled back across at him, “you know we’re always going to find something to tease you about, you’re still very much the baby of the grid to all of us.”
It didn’t matter how old Lando was, the boys were all very protective of him, and as much as they took every chance to make fun of him, they’d never let anyone else say a bad word about him.
“You just continue to do you,” Carlos smiled as he met Lando’s eyes, “some of these guys are never going to even get a girlfriend, so at least you’ve got that over them at least.”
“None of you can ever mention this to her,” Lando told them all, “do you know how embarrassed she be knowing that you guys see us as whipped for one another.”
Just like Lando, you were very aware of how whipped he was for you, but if anyone suggested that you were whipped for him, then you would categorically deny it. You knew how much he’d do for you though, savouring the feeling of Lando willingly doing absolutely anything to support you.
“We’ll keep it between us,” Oscar promised him, “unless she keeps stealing the chocolate I keep in the garage for once the races are finished. If that carries on, I’m making no promises.”
“I’ll buy you more,” Lando assured him, “just don’t tell her how whipped I am, or how whipped you guys seem to think that I might be.”
“Just admit it,” Charles laughed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Admit that you’re whipped for her, it’s not like we don’t already know it already.”
“Will you leave me alone if I say it?” Lando asked them all.
“We promise to leave you alone for the rest of the night.”
“Fine, I am 100% whipped for my girlfriend.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 reaction#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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choices- c.sainz
summary: charles gives you an ultimatum.
pairing: carlos sainz x fem! leclerc! reader
part two: strong
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
When Carlos overtook Charles you knew he was racing purely for himself. You both knew it could be his last podium, and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to share it with his teammate. It just sucked that his teammate was your brother.
Charles had never been good at sharing when it came to racing, but he was a Ferrari driver through and through, he’d be a team player if he had t, and they were boh supposed to be team players. Carlos was done with it, and you understood why. He’d been second to Charles his entire time at Ferrari, second to Max in Toro Rosso, ousted by Danny Ric in Renault, and now he’d be in Williams. He was sick of being seen as less than his teammates, when, if he had that same backing they did, he could’ve been a World Champion.
You waited at the barricade for the both of them, not quite sure how they would react. Charles came out first, you’d heard his radio message.
He walked over to Alexandra with a sigh. “It’s such bullshit,” he scoffed. Then his eyes met yours. “You have to make a choice now, and it isn’t about love. It’s about blood, it’s about dad. He’s not welcome in our home. He’s not fucking welcome at Christmas, at birthdays, ever. You need to pick.”
You stared at him for a moment. He’d never been so harsh. He’d never given you an ultimatum before. Alexandra looked at you, concerned. “Charles, no. That’s not fair-”
“You’re not in this conversation,” he quipped. “Y/n. Choose.”
“Don’t talk to her like that-”
“Y/n,” Carlos was in front of you, looking at you, practically pleading with you to choose him. You loved him, he loved you. Charles was your brother.
You looked at your brother. “Carlos,” you said, your voice strong and clear. Carlos wrapped his arms around you as you stared at Charles. He nodded, his lips a line, before he walked off.
“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. You could feel the mix of sweat and tears against your neck. He pulled back with a smile. “Thank you. I love you.”
You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes. “Congratulations,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too.”
If Carlos had taught you one thing, it was that love shouldn’t hurt. Charles hurt you time and time again, always playing the older brother card whenever he wanted you to do something. Carlos never did that. He actually loved you.
He wiped the tears off your cheeks as they fell, “We’ll work it out,” he promised you. “I’ll speak to him.”
You shook your head. “Enjoy tonight my love,” you smiled. “You’re a winner. I love you.”
He offered a gentle smile. “I love you too.”
You’d figure it out. Together.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#f1 fluff#formula 1#formula one#fluff#fluff-tober#f1 smau#f1 x you#formula 1 imagine#f1 x female reader
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𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗙𝗔𝗨𝗟𝗧
pairing: lando norris x fem!sainz!reader
summary: you and lando’s relationship gets revealed by your cousin . . . but are people surprised?
request: “would you be able to write a lando x driver sainz!reader fic where reader is carlos' cousin, drives for one of the teams and maybe has a secret blossoming relationship with lando. focused on the mexico gp when lando had celebratory dinner with carlos' family and reader is also there. fans ship them and have speculations (maybe write a little bit about this, possibly a thread or fan fave moments and interactions between them during gps or on social media). only the grid knows about the relationship and maybe carlos accidentaly exposes them on social media.
warnings: established relationship, bullying (jokingly) | faceclaim is lola lovinfosse, to whoever sent this request, thank you for the nice note 😚 stuff like that makes me continue to do this !!!!!!!, no cause why would carlos actually do that, i saw a tiktok comment saying “carlos always looks like he doesn’t know where he is or what he’s doing” and i totally agree
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 585,021 others
yourusername let’s go to mexico! 🇲🇽
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f1 vamos!
user1 they’re not ready for her
carlossainz55 adelante!
user2 you know she’s going to terrorize the whole grid during media day
user3 sainz-sainz podium??
landonorris oh geez
↳ yourusername BOO 🍅
user4 you deserved a barbie cameo
↳ yourusername let me get greta on the phone 📞
user5 her and lando beefing is so funny to me
↳ yourusername he’s so annoying 😔 petion to have duck tape permanently on his mouth
user6 i can’t wait for media day
f1
liked by yourusername, user2, and 344,727 others
f1 ready to race 👊
view all 103 comments
user1 carlos looks like he’s in a constant state of confusion
↳ yourusername he is. you should see him when we have family reunions
yourusername @landonorris you need a stylist 😐😐😐
↳ landonorris what about carlos???
↳ yourusername better than you 🤷♀️
↳ landonorris i hope you crash
user2 lando’s going to get a talking to for that comment
user3 she’s slaying 😘😘
user4 y/n ATEEE per usual
yourusername added to their story! landonorris added to their story!
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, f1, and 521,345 others
yourusername good qualifying in mexico with a p5! eventually found the right feeling with the car. ready to fully focus tomorrow 👊
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user1 you got this !!!!
↳ yourusername thank youu
user2 give it all my girlie ❤️
carlossainz55 👏👏👏
user3 you’re going smoke em
↳ yourusername i love your confidence
user4 you ate that 😘
skysportsf1
liked by yourusername, user1, and 83,023 others
skysportsf1 lando norris in an interview after qualifying on his talk with FIA after his comments on y/n y/l/n’s instagram!
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user1 ariana? what are you doing here 🤨
yourusername karma.
↳ user2 girl you’re next 💀💀
user3 she was right, he does need a stylist 🤷♀️
user4 y/n’s so iconic
user5 you can see her smirking and giggling 😭😭
landonorris there’s so much else i wanted to say
yourusername
liked by landonorris, carlossains55, and 1,024,746 others
yourusername felicidades carlos por p1 !!!! you did so incredible and i know aunt reyes will be estactic! congrats as well to charlie 🙂 and lando 😟
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user1 the difference in emojis says it all
landonorris what’s up with the emoji
↳ yourusername 😯😦😐
user2 she cooked him
carlossainz55 gracias! y mamá está muy feliz
↳ yourusername la conozco muy bien 😌
user3 i know the sainz family is happy today with p1 and p5
charles_leclerc merci y/n!
f1gossip
liked by user1, user3, and 128,893 others
f1gossip mclaren driver lando norris and redbull driver y/n y/l/n seen cuddling up in the background of an instagram story posted by carlos sainz after celebrating the mexico grand prix. thoughts?
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user1 we all saw how they looked at each other during media day
user2 her face when she congratulated lando!!!!
↳ user3 that man was blushing HARD
user4 no one’s surprised
user5 that person on twitter was on to something 🤔
user6 this is such a carlos thing to do
↳ user7 right?!
yourusername
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 1,013,053 others
yourusername it’s true . . . i am looking to get rid of my boyfriend. he is short, annoying, and snores. there is a $20 entry free 😔 anything higher than $2 i will accept
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landonorris this is so debilitating
user1 I KNEW IT
user2 she really took him out with this one 💀
landonorris ALSO I AM NOT SHORT
↳ landonorris and i’m not THAT annoying
↳ yourusername nothing to say about the snoring??
↳ landonorris i’m afraid everyone knows that one already 😔
carlossainz55 my bad
↳ yourusername it’s not your fault old people don’t know how to use phones
user3 carlos just got a permanent headache
landonorris
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,105,986 others
landonorris i’ve just accepted the bullying
view all 376 comments
yourusername stop lying you love it
↳ landonorris do i? 🤨
user1 i just know carlos is even more excited for family vacations
carlossainz55 i’ve had to deal with it for years, it’s your turn
user2 she’s so silly
↳ yourusername right? it’s not my fault 😔
charles_leclerc the whole grid knew and we had a bet on who was going this spillc and it wasn’t carlos
↳ user3 who did you think it was going to be?
↳ georgerussell63 lando
↳ oscarpiastri lando
↳ alex_albon lando
↳ yourusername It was just a matter of time before the muppet slipped up 🤷♀️
#wcters 1k celebration#emma writes#imagine#x reader#x fem!reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#ln4#f1#f1 x y/n#f1 smau#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one smau#formula 1#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#smau#formula 1 smau#social media au
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yn piastri fretting over oscar’s broken rib and oscar’s like, “gee you’re worst than mum” & nicole’s just like, “yeah i don’t need to worry about oscar when yn’s around”
the rumors are true: i'm obsessed with writing this little scenarios
read little bitch here
"Are you absolutely sure you're comfortable? Maybe we should prop you up a bit more," you hover anxiously over Oscar, adjusting his pillow for the third time in as many minutes." Oh, and do you need more ice? I can run and get some. Actually, should we call the doctor again? Just to double-check everything's okay?"
"YN, I'm fine," Oscar groans, "It's just a broken rib, not the end of the world. I'll be racing in Hungary next weekend anyway."
"What? No, absolutely not!" your eyes widen in alarm. "You can't race with a broken rib, Oscar. That's insane!"
Oscar rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's cracked, not broken. And I've been cleared by the medical team," he stresses, "You're worse that mum sometimes."
From her seat in the corner, Nicole chuckles. "Oh yeah, I don't even have to worry about you when your sister is around. She's got the overprotective mother role covered."
"Thanks, Mum," you say, turning to her. "My therapist has great opinions about it. She says my anxiety comes from a place of love."
"Yeah, well, your love is suffocating me right now," Oscar snorts.
"Osc, I'm just worried about you," you stressed again, "It's too dangerous. What if you crash? What if your rib punctures a lung? What if-"
"What if aliens invade during the race?" Oscar interrupts, mimicking your concerned tone. "What if a meteor hits the track? What if I suddenly forget how to drive?"
"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm serious!"
"So am I! Carlos nearly drove with a burst appendix, and he was fine!"
Carlos, who's been quietly watching the siblings' back-and-forth like a tennis match, pipes up. "Well, 'fine' might be stretching it. I was in quite a bit of pain, actually."
You whirled on Carlos, who suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling. "Oh, don't even get me started on that piece of stupidity!"
"In my defense," Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly. "I didn't actually race…"
"Only because the team had more sense than you did!" you exclaimed.
"Back when you pretended to hate Carlos but you were at the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was at the hospital," Oscar teased, making you roll your eyes.
"That's not the point right now," you crosses your arms over your chest, glaring at Oscar. "We're talking about your safety, not my past… concerns."
"Oh, but I think it is relevant," Oscar grins mischievously, sensing an opportunity. "Remember how you kept texting the group chat every five minutes when Carlos was in the hospital? 'Just being a decent human being,' you said. As if we couldn't see right through you."
You feel your cheeks heat up, aware of Carlos' gaze on you. "That's... that's completely irrelevant," you stammer.
"Is that so, hermosa?" Carlos chuckles softly, moving to stand beside you. "I didn't know you cared so much back then."
You shoot Carlos a look that's half embarrassment, half exasperation. "Don't you start. And you," you turn back to Oscar, pointing an accusing finger, "stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your cracked rib and your ridiculous idea to race with it."
Nicole, who's been watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, decides to intervene. "Alright, kids, let's all take a breath. YN, honey, I understand you're worried. But Oscar's right - he's been cleared by the medical team. They wouldn't let him race if it wasn't safe."
"But-" you start to protest, only to be cut off by Oscar.
"No buts," he says firmly. "I appreciate the concern, sis, I really do. But this is my job, and sometimes it comes with risks. I promise I'll be careful, okay?"
You sigh, feeling your resolve weaken. "Fine. But I swear, Oscar, if you so much as wince during that race, I'm storming the track myself."
"Now that I'd pay to see. YN vs. Formula 1 security," Carlos jokes, "My money's on you, mi amor."
As you and Oscar continue to bicker, your mom and Carlos exchange amused glances. Carlos leans towards her, speaking in a low voice.
"Has YN always been like this?" he asks, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watches you fuss over Oscar.
"Oh, you have no idea," Nicole chuckles softly. "This is actually quite mild compared to when they were kids. There was this one time when Oscar was about seven, and he fell off his bike. Scraped his knee pretty badly. YN, who was ten at the time, went into full nurse mode."
"What did she do?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Well," she continues, "She insisted on 'quarantining' Oscar in his room for a week, claiming he needed complete bed rest. She even made a 'Do Not Disturb: Patient Recovering' sign for his door. Poor Oscar was going stir-crazy by day two, but YN wouldn't let him leave. She brought him all his meals, read him stories, everything."
Carlos can't help but laugh at the image. "That sounds exactly like something she would do."
"Oh, it gets better," Nicole grins. "When I finally convinced her that Oscar was fine to go outside, she insisted on wrapping him in bubble wrap before he could ride his bike again. Said it was 'necessary protective gear'. Oscar looked like a little astronaut waddling down the street."
Their laughter catches your attention, and you pause in your debate with Oscar about the dangers of racing with a cracked rib. "What's so funny?" you ask suspiciously.
Before Nicole can respond, Oscar, catching on to the conversation, groans dramatically. "Oh god, Mum, please tell me you're not telling the bubble wrap story."
Your eyes widen in realization, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. "Mum! You promised never to mention that again!"
Carlos, still chuckling, wraps an arm around your waist. "I think it's adorable, hermosa. You've always been a protector."
"Well control your girlfriend! She's trying to bubble wrap me again, I swear!"
"I am not! Although..." you trail off, a mischievous glint in your eye, "it's not a bad idea for the race. Extra padding couldn't hurt, right?"
"YN, no!"
#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fanfiction#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz smau#little bitch#carlos sainz blurb#carlos sainz fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfiction#carlos sainz smut#cs55 x reader#cs55 fanfiction#harrysfolklore#carlos sainz fic rec#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz#1k
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the smallest man who ever lived - cl16
masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||
Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.
Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)
Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.
“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?”
“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”
“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.”
Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–”
Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?”
“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?”
“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”
“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.
“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”
His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.”
“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.”
“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone.
“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.”
Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?”
“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”
And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment.
It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.
“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!”
“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.”
“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”
“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?”
“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–”
“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”
“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–”
You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”
It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”
“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”
“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.”
“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.
“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?”
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”
You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.
So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.
“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.”
“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”
You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?”
“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.
“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.
“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!”
“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover.
You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!”
“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”
You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.
“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?”
“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.
“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”
“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.”
“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?”
“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...”
“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?”
“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”
Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”
“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers?
“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?”
“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.
His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?”
“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?”
“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?”
“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.”
“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.”
“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.
“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”
“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?”
“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.”
“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?”
Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?”
“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.”
“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”
He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?”
“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.
For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach. But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.
“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.
“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”
The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.
“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.
With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.
“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.
“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”
Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”
Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.”
“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.”
“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.
“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?”
He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”
“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”
Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?”
“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.”
Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.”
Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.
With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?”
“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”
“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?”
Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.”
“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”
You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”
“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?”
“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.”
“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”
“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.
“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”
Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?”
He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”
“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!”
“I know you don’t,” he nods.
“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.
“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.
“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!”
The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.
He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.
“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.”
“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.”
You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.”
“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.”
And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up.
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#charles leclerc angst#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz angst#carlos sainz imagine
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main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist
-----------------••✩🍪☕️🩹✩••----------------
𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠...
✩ : as the 2024 season comes to an end, so does the time you have left to finally confess your feelings to lando
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lando norris
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k
✍︎ : this is my way of celebrating lando's win in abu dhabi. honestly, i was kinda hoping it would end like this, and seeing him smile again after the shitshow the last few races were was the best conclusion i could've imagined for this season.
i'm also planning to write one for carlos, a sort of 'other side of the coin': same scenario, same feelings involved, but a totally different atmosphere (which means heavy angst because i don't think i'll ever get over him leaving ferrari). let me know if you're interested! 🩷🧡
-------------------------❦︎-------------------------
The McLaren garage had always been a lively place, but nothing could have prepared you—or any of your teammates—for the chaos that Lando's win brought that night.
Abu Dhabi, the last race on the 2024 season calendar, the last chance for the team to become great once again, and Lando had made it. He'd pulled off an absolute masterclass on track, securing both his fourth career win and the Constructors’ Championship title for McLaren, and you were there to witness it.
The moment he crossed the finish line in first, it seemed like the whole team gasped for air after holding their breath during the entire race. Then came the cheers, the hugs, the shouts, the tears of joy and relief… and him.
Being a part of the Papaya crew, you were as excited as everyone else for the long-awaited victory, of course, but the only thing you could seem to focus on were Lando’s watery eyes, sparkling under the bright lights of the Yas Marina Circuit.
It was written on his face—you could see it in his smile: he was proud of himself. For the first time in so long, that’s what his almost unbelieving gaze screamed, what you were dying to scream too.
You made it, Lando.
The celebration that followed was a blur of champagne, noisy music, and dances, yet the loudest party was the one going on inside your heart, which seemed to follow the rhythm of Lando’s laughter.
How long can a person hide their true feelings for someone they’ve known for… well, a while? In your case, what had initially started as a harmless, silly little crush almost seven months before was now the reason your world had lit up as soon as you’d seen Lando smile again.
You couldn’t keep it in anymore now, could you? After all, what better time to confess your embarrassingly strong feelings for him than as the perfect conclusion of such an eventful night?
Taking one last deep breath and a long sip of champagne from a nearby glass, you finally gained enough courage to walk up to where Lando was standing, surrounded by a crowd of orange t-shirts as he casually chatted with Oscar.
Once you reached him, you cleared your throat to get him to acknowledge you, which he almost immediately did, turning his head toward you with the biggest, brightest smile still plastered on his face.
“Hey,” you muttered, face flushed under his piercing stare. “Hey.” He didn’t hesitate, pulling you into an ecstatic side hug that only worsened your situation, totally unaware of the effect his presence—him in general, to be honest—had on you.
“I, uh… congratulations, Lando,” you somehow managed to blurt out, your cheeks completely on fire by the time he let go of you.
“Thanks.” His smile seemed to soften, as well as the look in his eyes, which lingered on your face with something that almost resembled tenderness. That’s all you needed to keep going.
“You deserve it. I mean it.” You stopped him before he could say anything, your voice unexpectedly firm as you knew he was about to shrug your compliment off. “You worked so hard for it, and I’m not just talking about tonight. The win, the championship—you earned it all, Lando. Everyone here is proud of you, and… I’m really proud of you, too.”
You could feel your face burning as the last words left your mouth, and when you dared to look directly at him, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of redness crawling up his neck and softly tinting his cheeks… but it must’ve been the garage lights, right?
“Well, thanks… again,” he chuckled, his right hand shooting up to scratch the back of his neck while his eyes finally left yours, falling to his feet instead.
As you opened your mouth once again, words fighting to go past the lump in your throat, someone from the team suddenly called out Lando’s name, his attention shifting to the engineer as he briefly waved at him.
This was it. If you let him go, you knew you wouldn’t find another moment like that for a while. No more backing down, no more second-guessing yourself—it had to be now.
“Wait, I… I need to tell you something else.” The almost panicked tone you used made his head snap back toward you, his eyes shifting from the hand you’d grabbed his arm with to yours, a spark of something you couldn’t really put your finger on flashing across them. “Yeah?” Was that… hope, in his voice?
“I just–well, I’ve been thinking about this… a lot. It’s not exactly easy for me to say, but–” You let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through your hair. “God, I’m already making a mess of this. What I’m trying to say is…”
Your gaze wandered over all the faces that surrounded you, suddenly very aware of their presence, until it landed on Oscar’s. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he just gave you an encouraging nod, to which the words started spilling out in a flood.
“I like you, Lando. I have for a while now. Ok, maybe more than a while, but that’s not the point. And not in a friendly kind of way, more like in a ‘I’ve-liked-you-for-over-seven-months-now-but-I-didn’t-know-how-to-tell-you’ kind of way, which sounds desperate when I say it out loud but–”
You stopped, realizing how fast you were talking, your words tumbling over each other. Lando’s expression hadn’t changed, and your stomach dropped.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, both your hands blocking out the defeated sigh you let out shortly after. “Listen, forget I said anything. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut–”
And that’s exactly what you did.
Before you could even process what was going on, Lando’s fingers were tightly wrapped around your wrists, giving them a firm yet gentle tug that drew you right into him, your lips meeting halfway.
The kiss took you completely by surprise, eyes widening in disbelief as your words got muffled by Lando’s mouth, which had crashed almost aggressively against yours, stealing your breath right away. His lips tasted yours, hungry, the lingering flavor of champagne making your head spin together with the room around you; someone whistled, someone even shouted an amused ‘Get a room!’, but you felt like you were under a glass bell, everything else shut out from the little universe only you and Lando had access to.
Lost in the burning sensation of your mouths moving together, he placed your hands on his chest and brought up his own to cup your jaw, his thumbs gently grazing your cheeks as you tangled your fingers through his brown curls to deepen the kiss even more.
When you broke away, he didn’t entirely pull back—not yet—his forehead rested lightly against yours, a lazy grin now plastered on his face. “You talk too much, you know that?” he teased, voice barely above a whisper, only for you to hear.
“I–you–why…?” A series of incoherent words fell from your mouth, the realization of what had just happened hitting you like a ton of bricks.
“Because I like you too, you muppet,” he mumbled, the blush on his cheeks now blatant. “And I would’ve told you tonight if you just didn’t beat me to it. But I guess I can’t win them all, now, can I?”
“Wait, you actually like me?” It was all too good to be true, like a dream from which you’d eventually have to wake up.
“Do I need to kiss you again to prove it?” His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes spoke louder than any words ever could. “Maybe you do,” you breathed out, your smile matching his own as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, the rest of the world immediately fading away and leaving no room for doubt.
Because now, now you knew.
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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms
#✩ : my writings#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4 fanfic#ln4 fic#ln4 one shot#ln4 fluff#abu dhabi gp 2024
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Delicious | LN4
pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris
genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe
requested: yes!
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope
When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.
It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?
That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.
"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.
"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.
Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"
Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.
"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"
You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.
Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."
You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.
"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.
"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.
Just three more days.
The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.
Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.
Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.
"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.
"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."
His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.
His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.
Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.
Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.
"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.
You wanted to make him snap.
There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.
You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.
"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."
Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."
You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"
His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"
A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"
The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.
"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.
"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"
The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"
You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.
"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."
"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.
"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.
"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.
"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.
"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."
The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.
You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.
"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"
You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.
"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.
A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.
"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.
It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.
"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.
"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."
Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"
"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?
Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."
He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.
And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.
Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."
He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.
"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."
You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.
"Lan-"
"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.
Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.
After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.
A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.
But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.
When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.
Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.
"Delicious."
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 smut#f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris blurb#ln4#formula 1#formula one#lando norris f1#mclaren f1#lando norris x oc#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader
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hi! Could you maybe do something like reader is Lando's baby sister and it's her first time at a GP so he shows her off to all the drivers?
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl 🧡
Proud big brother
Lando was bouncing with excitement as he led his six-year-old sister, Y/N, through the paddock at the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was her first time attending a race weekend, and he was beyond thrilled to have her here. He'd been talking about it for weeks, sending her little videos of the track, the car, and the crowd. He’d told her everything he could think of to help her understand what a race weekend was like.
Today, though, seeing her tiny hand in his, wide-eyed with awe as she looked around, he felt a mix of pride and protectiveness. He was determined to make this the best day ever for her.
Lando grinned as they entered the McLaren garage, and his engineer shot him a look of amusement, clearly surprised to see him accompanied by someone so small.
“Y/N, meet the team!” Lando gestured with a grand sweep of his hand. “These guys keep my car fast and safe.”
Y/N looked around with big eyes, giving a shy wave, which earned a couple of chuckles from the engineers.
Just then, Lando spotted Carlos walking by, and his face lit up. “Oh! Y/N, you have to meet Carlos.” He crouched down beside her, whispering, “He used to be my teammate, and he's one of the nicest guys on the grid.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as Carlos approached, his expression softening immediately when he saw the young girl.
“Hola, Y/N!” Carlos crouched down to her level, extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Carlos. I've heard so much about you already, niña"
Y/N giggled and shook his hand with both of hers, looking up at Lando as if to say, isn’t he cool?
Lando chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You know, Carlos is really fast too, just like me.”
“Like a race car?” she asked, eyes widening as she looked back at Carlos.
Carlos laughed. “Exactly like a race car. Maybe even faster than Lando.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lando teased, giving Carlos a playful nudge.
As they chatted, the crowd around them started to notice the heartwarming scene. Cameras from media outlets and phones of fans began focusing on the Norris siblings. Lando noticed the flashing cameras and shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Y/N, who was too enthralled with Carlos’s explanation of “how to go fast” to notice.
Oscar walked over, intrigued by the gathering. “Who’s this?” he asked, bending down to give Y/N a warm smile.
Lando's eyes sparkled with pride. “This is my little sister, Y/N.”
Oscar’s face lit up as he crouched beside her. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Oscar.”
Y/N looked up at Oscar, studying his soft hair, and before anyone could say a word, she reached out and began gently petting his head as if he were a small animal. She tilted her head, seemingly fascinated by the texture.
Oscar froze for a second, clearly surprised, but then he let out a soft laugh. “Guess I have soft hair, huh?”
Carlos burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got some competition here, Lando. She’s already got a favorite driver.”
Lando’s face flushed, caught between amusement and a sudden urge to shield his sister from all the cameras and teasing.
“Y/N, don’t bother him too much,” he said gently, giving her a small, protective smile. “Oscar needs to save his energy for racing.”
Y/N giggled and looked back at Oscar, who just winked at her, clearly enjoying the attention. Lando could feel the eyes of the media zooming in on their little interaction, the moment drawing attention from fans and reporters alike.
Max strolled over, smirking when he saw the scene. “So, this is the famous Y/N I’ve heard so much about?”
Y/N looked up, wide-eyed. “You’re the one who’s always beating Lanno!” she said with innocent frankness, making all the drivers burst into laughter.
Lando groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Thanks, Y/N. I feel the love.”
Max chuckled, bending down so he was eye-level with her. “You know, it’s only because I have more experience,” he explained, trying to keep a straight face. "And because I'm just a bit better than he is right now," he teased gently.
Y/N tilted her head, looking from Max to Lando. “Will you beat him, Lanno?”
Lando nodded, trying to sound confident, though he was smiling at her earnest expression. “Of course I will, Y/N. I’m going to win a championship one day.”
Y/N’s face lit up with excitement, and she threw her arms around him. “You’re my favorite driver, Lanno!”
The other drivers couldn’t help but chuckle at the sweet interaction. Charles had joined the group by now, observing everything with an amused smile.
“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles teased, folding his arms. “Y/N’s loyalty clearly lies with you.”
“Yeah, for now,” Carlos chimed in, smirking as he watched her go back to petting Oscar’s hair. “But give her a couple more races with us, and she might just change her mind.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. He gently tugged Y/N’s hand, leading her away from Oscar. “Alright, alright, don’t get too comfortable with my teammates. You’re here to support me, remember?”
Y/N nodded, but her attention was soon stolen by a nearby display of miniature cars in the McLaren hospitality area. She tugged on Lando’s sleeve, pointing at them with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Oh! Look, Lanno! Tiny race cars!”
Lando chuckled, letting her excitement distract him from his nerves about the media coverage. “Want to pick one out? Maybe we can find one that looks like my car.”
As she eagerly examined the toy cars, the other drivers exchanged grins, clearly entertained by Lando’s newfound protective side.
“Just wait until she wants to attend all the races,” Charles teased, nudging Lando. “You’ll be too busy babysitting to focus.”
“Right, and she’ll be rooting for Oscar,” Max added, giving Lando a playful shove.
Lando gave them all a playful glare. “You all wish,” he shot back. “She’s my number one fan, right, Y/N?”
Y/N looked up, clutching a toy car that she’d chosen. “Yep! Lanno is the best driver in the world!”
All the drivers exchanged looks of amusement, sharing a laugh, but Lando’s expression softened as he glanced down at his little sister. She didn’t understand the rivalry, the pressure, or the spotlight. To her, he was simply her big brother.
And in that moment, as he held her hand and watched her excitement, he realized that he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#lando norris x sister!reader#lando norris x reader#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#norris!reader
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Aphrodite of Formula 1
Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.
She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.
---
Charles and Alexandra
Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.
Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.
Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”
Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.
Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”
“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.
Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.
Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.
---
Carlos and Rebecca
Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.
“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.
“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.
“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”
Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”
Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”
Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.
Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...
She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”
“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.
Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.
---
Max and Kelly
Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.
“Max,” Kelly said sharply.
He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”
“You’re staring at her again.”
Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”
“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”
“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”
Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”
Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”
Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.
Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.
---
Oscar and Lily
Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.
“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.
Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”
“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”
Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”
“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”
---
George and Carmen
Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.
“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.
George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”
Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)
“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”
George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”
“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.
George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.
---
Pierre and Kika
Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.
“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.
Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”
Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.
Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.
Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.
They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.
---
Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.
When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”
Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”
Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”
She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.
Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.
Part 2. Part 3
#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#f1 x reader#pierre gasly x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#george russel x reader#the WAGS know their boyfriends are in love#jealous!alexandra saint mleux#jealous! kelly piquet#lesbian!rebecca donaldson#rebecca would leave carlos for yn
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Forget the wags, could you write something about all the drivers having massive small crushes on reader and like there’s loads of edits on social media of them looking at her with heart eyes or just general ship edits or I mean ship fan fiction that they have to read in a team challenge or something..👀
LATE NIGHT TALKING
pairings: f1 drivers x driver!reader (indirectly)
warnings: swearing. drunk drivers. lando talking about a woman.
author’s note: I AM BACK FINALLY! also I wrote this in my notes app so pls be patient 😭😭 and this is probs the closest thing I’ll ever write to romance for this series lol
masterlist
“Out of all the drivers, who would you date?” Pierre drunkenly, almost-giggly, asked the question to his fellow colleagues.
Charles, George, Lando, Alex, Carlos and Yuki nervously laughed at the shit-faced Frenchman in front of them.
“Out of the entire grid?” Charles wanted clarification.
Pierre nodded. “Like hypothetical, if none of us had partners.” He quickly added.
A silence followed. The seven men thinking of all the possibilities.
“I mean…” Lando was the first one to speak up, every head in the hotel room shooting up at him,
“and this stays between us, right?” He followed up, needing reassurance from the others, who swiftly nodded their heads.
“If like, I was single, and I could only date one of the drivers… I would date Y/N.” He confessed.
His words were met with choruses of “same” and “me too”. A small, relieved sigh left Lando’s mouth at the others’ agreement.
“Yeah, you guys are cool and all, but Y/N’s the right answer.” George snickered, awkwardly avoiding eye-contact with the group.
Charles hummed. “I’m also choosing her, but you know, cause I’m not, uh…”
“For the other side of the street?” Alex laughed, taking a swig from his drink.
“Yeah.” The Monegasque’s dimples made an appearance, grinning towards the Williams driver.
“I think she would rather die than date one of you guys.” Carlos said, matter-of-fact.
Charles, George and Lando gave him an unimpressed look, despite knowing he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“She would date me!” The McLaren driver tried saving his own ego and pride.
“She would not.” The six others immediately shot him down.
Lando scoffed at that, sitting up more straight on the bed. “Why? It’s like textbook childhood friends to lovers, or whatever Lily said at that party once.”
“You kinda sound like you want to date her.” Pierre made eyes at him, causing the younger man to lightly push him away.
“I don’t! But I’m just a little offended that you guys don’t think I could, like, you know… bag her.”
“Bag her? She’s not a fucking product.” Alex judged his choice of words, a slight disgusted expression on his face.
“You know what I mean, Albon.” Lando brushed it off, not having bad intentions. “I just think she would be a nice girlfriend to have.”
“I think so too,” Charles agreed, “she’s a lot of fun.”
“I mean- you would never get bored with her.” George hesitantly added to the conversation, feeling a little uneasy about imaging himself with his colleague.
“True.” The seven of them chorused.
“Hey, maybe we should change the topic- it’s getting weird…” Carlos suggested. The atmosphere in Charles’ large hotel room having changed drastically ever since the question had been asked.
“Yeah, good idea.” Lando cleared his throat, uncomfortably shifting on the bed.
“I would choose Pierre to date.”
“Yeah, we know, Yuki.”
#f1 fic#f1 fics#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#female f1 driver#f1 x you#f1 x oc#f1 imagines#alex albon x reader#pierre gasly x reader#george russell x reader
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Breaking Point
Charles Leclerc x Ferrari!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc finally reaches his breaking point after the disaster that was the United States Grand Prix. Something needs to change … and that’s where you come in
“Again, again!” Charles’ voice rings out, echoing through the debrief room, “How can we mess this up? I was on pole!”
Fred Vasseur looks down, sighing, but trying to maintain composure. “Charles, it was a miscalculation—”
“A miscalculation?” Charles retorts, eyes blazing, “This has been a trend all season, Fred. It’s not a one-time mistake. It’s systemic.”
Carlos, looking uncomfortable, tries to chime in, “It wasn’t just about strategy, you know the car—”
“Oh, I know the car,” Charles snaps, “And it was built against my driving preference. But it’s not just that. It’s everything. The poor race strategy, the unnecessary swap, and now being disqualified as if my day has not been bad enough!”
Enrico Cardile, the team’s technical director, steps forward, “Disqualification was not anticipated. We followed the regulations to the best—”
“Enough with the excuses!” Charles’ voice cracks with emotion. The weight of the season, the betrayal he feels, finally makes him see red. “Every time there’s an excuse. We’re a team and yet somehow it feels like I’m constantly battling not just our opponents but Ferrari as well.”
A deep silence settles.
The head strategist, Ravin Jain, finally speaks up hesitantly, “We thought the one-stop made sense. The data suggested—”
“Data,” Charles interrupts bitterly, “The same data that led to a decision that every other team on the grid laughed at! Did the data also suggest swapping me with Carlos? Or was I being punished for being able to manage my tires?”
Carlos, despite himself, looks hurt. “I didn’t ask for the swap,” he mutters.
Charles takes a breath, looking at his teammate, “I know. It’s not your fault, hermano. But I need to trust the team’s decisions. And right now, I don’t.”
Sporting Director Diego Ioverno tries to mediate, “It’s been a tough season, Charles. Everyone is understandably stressed. Let’s sit down, review everything together, and find a way forward.”
Charles shakes his head, “That’s what we said last time. And the time before that. And the twenty times before that! Empty promises, meetings, discussions, and then what? Nothing gets done and there is another disaster waiting to happen.”
Fred tries one more time, “We’re as frustrated as you are. We’re a family. We’ll figure this out.”
Charles scoffs, “I can’t keep being let down and used. Not like this.”
The room falls silent once more, a heavy cloud of disappointment and tension hanging in the air.
Carlos reaches out, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder, “Things will get better.”
Charles meets Carlos’ gaze, nodding slightly. But the fire in his eyes has not dimmed, “I need to believe in this team again. But right now ...” He pauses, “I have a call to make.”
He turns, leaving the room filled with introspective silence. The team is left behind, grappling with their own emotions, knowing that actions will always speak louder than words.
***
Charles steps out into the warm evening air, taking a moment to compose himself before dialing a number he knows by heart but hasn’t touched in months.
“Hey,” Charles’ voice is a low rasp, every ounce of weariness evident.
Then a pause, as he listens to the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, it’s me ... look, I know what I said earlier this season. About handling it myself.” He takes a deep breath, letting the weight of it all settle.
A longer pause, broken by Charles’ intermittent nods and “Uh-huhs.”
“Every race feels like it’s been one disaster after another. And it’s not just the car, it’s everything. I can’t ... I can’t keep doing this to myself.”
He listens closely.
“I told them today, laid it all out. But it’s like talking to a brick wall. They listen, they nod, and then? The same mistakes. Over and over.”
He shifts his weight, the sound of his shoes scraping on the gravel echoing softly.
“I know, I know I told you not to get involved ... but maybe ... maybe that was a mistake.” He sounds defeated, a man at the end of his rope. “I need help. Real help. Maybe it’s time you step in.”
Charles is silent, absorbing whatever the person on the other end is saying.
“No, it’s not about leaving the team,” Charles’ voice is earnest, desperate even. “It’s about respect. Trust. It’s about feeling like I’m not constantly fighting against the tide, not just against other teams but within my own garage.”
A long pause.
“What I mean is, maybe some changes within the team would be good. Fresh perspectives. New faces, perhaps. Somewhere I can trust the decisions, the strategy ...”
He sighs.
“I just want to race, you know? Without all this drama. Without constantly wondering if I’m being set up to fail no matter what I do.”
Another pause as he listens, nodding, lost in the gravity of the decision he’s about to make.
“Thank you. Really. Let’s talk tomorrow? Lay out all our options?”
There’s a moment of quiet, only the sound of his breathing, the distant hum of the circuit, the world slowly dimming around him.
“Thanks. Goodnight, Y/N.”
***
“Emilia,” you call out, and before a moment passes, your ever-efficient personal assistant is by your side.
“Yes, Y/N?” Emilia asks, perfectly poised.
“I need the jet prepared. We’re heading to Mexico City,” you say, voice steady and determined though inside, the turmoil from the phone call with Charles still lingers.
Emilia raises an eyebrow slightly, a silent question in her eyes. “Any particular reason?”
You sigh, looking away for a moment, reflecting on the weight of the legacy you carry. “Scuderia Ferrari needs my direct attention. I trusted them to handle things, but ... it’s clear that has not been happening.”
Her eyes flash with understanding. “Of course. I’ll have the jet ready. When do you wish to depart?”
“Tomorrow morning, early.”
She’s already typing into her tablet. “I’ll book you the Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons. Will you be needing a meeting space there?”
“Absolutely,” you nod. “On Wednesday, before the Grand Prix. Organize for all team personnel to meet in the hotel conference room. And Emilia ... they are not to know the reason for the meeting or that I’m the one calling it.”
Her eyes gleam with a hint of mischief, “Mystery and surprise. I love it. Consider it done.”
A small, wry smile tugs at your lips. “Thank you. And can you make sure Charles knows about my arrival? But ask him to keep it quiet.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
You pause, taking a moment to consider. “Just one more thing. Make sure we have everything we need to review the team’s decisions and strategies for this season. Every little detail.”
Emilia nods. “Absolutely. Everything will be arranged as per your instructions.”
You take a deep breath, “Thanks, Emilia. This … it’s about preserving a legacy, and right now, that legacy is on shaky ground.”
She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If anyone can steer this ship right, it’s you.”
***
The door to the conference room opens with a low creak, and the room immediately falls silent. Everyone turns to see you entering, your presence commanding every ounce of attention.
“Good afternoon,” you begin with ice-cold authority. “Thank you all for meeting on such short notice.”
There are murmurs of acknowledgment but no one dares speak up.
“I’ve reviewed our performance this season,” you continue, pacing the length of the conference room, letting each word sink in. “And to say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.”
Fred shifts uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting around the room. You lock eyes with him, “Fred, you promised change. But the only change I’ve seen is our team’s steep decline.”
“I understand your frustration,” Fred stammers, “We’ve faced challenges—”
You cut him off sharply, “Challenges? Every team faces challenges. What matters is how you overcome them.”
Several team members look down, uncomfortably shuffling papers and avoiding eye contact.
You turn to the strategists, “Your decisions have cost us dearly, time and time again. Your inability to read a race situation, to adapt, to strategize effectively ... it’s quite frankly appalling.”
One of the strategists, a middle-aged man named Roberto, speaks up defensively, “We did our best with the information we had.”
Your eyes narrow, “Your best? Tell that to Charles, who has been left out in the cold race after race.”
Moving on, you address the engineers and designers, “Our car has issues that should have been rectified at the beginning of the season. Yet here we are, still struggling.”
An aerodynamicist named Lucia, clearly agitated, stands up. “We’ve been working tirelessly, trying to find solutions.”
You level her with a gaze, “Then maybe it’s time we look for people who can find those solutions more efficiently.”
Lucia’s face reddens, “You can’t just—”
“Actually I can,” you interrupt, “And I will.”
Your attention turns to Xavi, Charles’ race engineer, who has been noticeably silent. “Xavi, your dynamic with Charles has not been the slightest bit helpful. His feedback, his needs ... they’ve fallen on deaf ears.”
Xavi, trying to defend himself, says, “It’s a two-way street. Charles can be difficult.”
You shake your head, “Charles is a world-class driver. It’s your job to bridge any gaps, not widen them. I checked and it turns out that constantly repeating we are checking like a broken record is not beneficial for race performance!”
Taking a deep breath, you make your announcement, “Effective immediately, Roberto, Lucia, and several other strategists, engineers, and aerodynamicists that a personal audit revealed as detrimental to team performance relieved of their duties. Xavi, you too are let go.”
There are gasps around the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Roberto stands, fuming in anger, “You can’t just dismantle this team!”
You lock eyes with him, “I’m not dismantling. I’m rebuilding. And if that means letting go of every one of you who can’t uphold the standards of Scuderia Ferrari then so be it.”
Fred finally speaks up, “And what about me?”
You lean in, “Consider your position on very thin ice. I expect results. And fast.”
You straighten up, the room thick with tension, “Scuderia Ferrari is not just a team, it’s a legacy. My great-grandfather would be rolling in his grave to see what has been done to his beloved team. I will not stand by and watch it crumble.”
With a final, piercing gaze around the room, you pivot on your heel and exit with a flick of your hair.
***
You lean against the cool wall, taking a moment to gather yourself after the emotional intensity of the meeting. The hallway is quiet save for the distant hum of voices but soon familiar footsteps make their way around the corner.
“Charles,” you call out softly as spot the driver.
His green eyes, clouded with a mix of emotions, meet yours. “Y/N.”
“Are you okay?”
He hesitates, “I wasn’t expecting all of that.”
You nod, “It was long overdue. I should have intervened much sooner.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process everything. “It’s ... a lot. I didn’t think you would actually step in like this.”
You sigh, “I hoped I wouldn’t have to. But my bisnonno once said that aerodynamics are for people who can’t build engines, and right now, it sure seems like Ferrari can’t do either.”
Charles chuckles dryly, “You have a point. It’s been ... frustrating.”
You gently touch his arm, trying to reassure him, “Enzo also believed that dreams become bigger, much bigger, to build a car that doesn’t slow in the curves, that flies without leaving the ground. I want that dream for you. For us.”
He looks at you, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. A car that allows me to race to my full potential.”
You nod, thinking of the iconic red car and its tremendous legacy, “I know. And we’ll get there. Remember, racing cars are neither beautiful nor ugly. They become beautiful when they win.”
A smile tugs at Charles’ lips, “I haven’t won in too long. I almost forget what it feels like.”
You step closer, “That is going to change. I’m here for the long haul. To rebuild, restructure, and reclaim the Ferrari legacy. Glory will be dressed in red once more.”
He nods and swallows thickly. “Thank you, Y/N. It means more than you know.”
You smile softly, “We’re a team. And I promise to do whatever it takes to see us on top again.”
***
Early that Friday at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, you gather the team in the garage.
“Good morning, everyone,” you begin. “I know it has been a whirlwind these past few days but I want to set the tone for this weekend.”
Fred, still adjusting to the new dynamic, nods silently from the back.
“We haven’t had the time to implement any physical changes to the car,” you continue, “But they are coming. For now, the difference will be about being smart … being strategic.”
Charles listens intently, his gaze occasionally drifting to the newcomers in front of him.
Speaking of the new additions, you gesture to the two people standing on either side of you, “I’ve brought on Marit Nilsen as our Principal Strategy Engineer and Claudio Segreti as Charles’ new race engineer. Not only are they exceptional engineers but also global chess masters.”
There are murmurs of surprise and interest among the crew. The world of Formula 1 and professional chess has rarely, if ever, intersected.
Marit, a tall woman with striking blonde hair, steps forward, “Chess is all about strategy, foreseeing the opponent’s moves and countering them. That’s what we’re here to do but on the track.”
Claudio, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, adds, “Every move and decision we make will be precise. We’ll anticipate, adapt, and overcome.”
Carlos clears his throat, “So what’s the plan for free practice?”
You smile, “Today, we observe. We learn. We see where the car stands, where our strengths and weaknesses lie.”
As free practice commences, there’s a different energy in the garage. Marit, with her sharp analytical mind, quickly picks up on patterns, working closely with Claudio and Carlos’ engineer to ensure both drivers get feedback they need.
There’s a visible shift throughout the weekend. The team, rejuvenated by fresh perspectives, operates with a renewed vigor. And while the car may not have upgrades yet, new strategy quickly begins to make a difference like anticipated.
Qualifying sees Charles securing P3, an unexpected but welcome result. The garage is full of cautious hope but Marit and Claudio remain focused, already planning for the race to come.
Race day dawns and the tension is thick. You pull Charles aside, “Remember, things have changed. Believe in the strategy and the moves we make.”
He nods, “I trust them. And I trust you.”
As the lights go out and the cars roar to life, Charles delivers a performance that’s both calculated and aggressive. Every pit stop and every overtake is orchestrated like a chess match.
The race sees Charles finishing in P2 and Carlos in P4, a significant improvement from recent races.
The garage is a mix of tentative elation and relief.
Marit thoroughly reviews the race data, “This is just the beginning. Once the car upgrades are in place, the board will be ours.”
The sun sets on the Mexico City Grand Prix, but for Scuderia Ferrari, a new dawn is on the horizon.
***
“Fabiano Turati,” you muse, looking at the impressive portfolio before you. “Aerospace engineer, a key player in the development of hypercars for Agnellotti Motors, a professor at Politecnico di Milano. But never in F1?”
Fabiano, with salt and pepper hair and an air of quiet confidence, smiles slightly. “It’s not for lack of offers. I have just always believed in pushing boundaries outside of traditional paths.”
You lean back, intrigued, “So why Ferrari now?”
His eyes scan around the garage, “A challenge. An opportunity. A legacy to uphold. And, to put it simply, I think I can make a difference.”
You nod, appreciative of his candor. “We have three races left this season: Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. Realistically, how much can we improve?”
You can practically see the gears in his brain turning, “In terms of complete redesign? Not much. But in terms of optimization and efficiency? Quite a bit.”
By the Brazilian Grand Prix, Fabiano’s influence is evident. While not a complete transformation, the SF-23 sports streamlined wings and a refined rear diffuser, maximizing what the current design allows.
“Initial feedback is good,” Charles reports after the practice session. “There’s a notable difference in the corners.”
Carlos chimes in, “The balance feels better.”
The improvements are evident, with both Ferraris finishing just off the podium. But Las Vegas poses a new challenge: a circuit unfamiliar to all teams and drivers.
“This is anyone’s game,” Marit says, examining the track layout.
Fabiano nods, “This weekend will be all about adaptation.”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix is an exhilarating rollercoaster. Charles fights for a podium finish, narrowly missing out but showcasing the SF-23’s newfound prowess, while Carlos secures a solid sixth.
As the season finale in Abu Dhabi looms, anticipation runs high. The Yas Marina Circuit will end the year with a test of Ferrari’s mettle.
Post-race, with both Ferraris finishing on the podium after avoiding a pile up that took out multiple opponents, there’s a sense of satisfaction but also of hunger.
“We’ve made progress,” Fabiano says as the garage winds down. “But next season, we’ll aim for a car that is not just evolved but fully revolutionized.”
You smile, “With you on board, I truly believe we can. The future is bright for Scuderia Ferrari.”
***
“Look at her,” Fabiano muses, admiration clear as the blueprint for the SF-24 is spread out before you both in your Maranello office.
“She’s a beauty,” you agree, tracing your fingers over the schematics. “If she performs half as well as she looks ...”
“She will,” Fabiano leaves no room for doubt. “We’ve streamlined the aerodynamics, enhanced the power unit, and made significant weight reductions.”
Carlos walks in with a grin on his face, “Is this the beast we’re taming next season?”
“That’s the plan.”
Charles catches your eye from where he lingers by the door. “It’s a fresh start,” he murmurs, approaching the table almost reverently. “I feel it.”
Over the following weeks, you rarely leave the factory other than to sleep and shower. You immerse yourself with the team, observing wind tunnel tests, joining strategy sessions, and even trying your hand with pit stop drills.
One evening, after a particularly long meeting, Charles finds you in the lounge, sipping an espresso. “Mind if I join you?”
You gesture to the seat across, “Of course not.”
He sits and just looks at you until you get the urge to fidget. “I’ve been thinking,” Charles begins, “About the changes, the car, and ... us.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Us?”
Charles smiles slightly, “You and I. We’ve spent so much time together these past weeks. I’ve gotten to know you, not just as Y/N Ferrari but as ... Y/N.”
You flush and not just from the hot coffee, “I feel the same. It’s been ... refreshing. Getting to know the man behind the helmet.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table, “There’s this great little place just outside Maranello. Quiet, hidden. I was thinking, maybe, dinner?”
Your heart skips a beat but you maintain your composure, “I’d really like that.”
The winter in Maranello unfolds, and as the SF-24 takes shape, so does the bond between you and Charles.
Between brainstorming sessions and late-night discussions about optimal setups, there are stolen moments: shared glances, lingering touches, and dinners that stretch long into the night talking about anything and everything.
Carlos teases, “Seems like the new car isn’t the only thing igniting sparks.”
You roll your eyes but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. You don’t try to deny it. Why bother when you hope it might be true one day?
***
r/formula1
Posted by RaceRundown · 6 hours ago
First look at the SF-24! Thoughts?
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RedFever · 6 hours ago
This could be the machine that keeps Ferrari at the top. Just look at those lines!
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PitStopPundit · 5 hours ago
Getting major 2004 vibes from this. Could be a dominant year for the Scuderia!
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***
You step into the air-conditioned motorhome, grateful for an escape from the Bahraini heat. Charles and Carlos, race suits unzipped around their waists, are animatedly discussing their first day of preseason testing with the SF-24.
“Last year, we didn’t have to sandbag because the car was, well … genuinely that slow,” Charles laughs. “But this time around ...”
Carlos grins, finishing his sentence. “This time, we have an ace up our sleeves.”
You nod, “Just remember, it’s only testing. We still have to see where we truly stand.”
The race weekend finally kicks off and the paddock is full of speculation. After a deliberately unimpressive showing during testing, no one expects Ferrari to be a front-runner.
Yet, when the lights go out, the SF-24 does not just impress …. it dominates. Charles takes P1 with Carlos not far behind in P3. And the world takes notice.
The next few races see a rejuvenated Ferrari. In Saudi Arabia, Charles and Carlos deliver a nail-biting duel with Red Bull, securing a double podium. Australia is a tougher battle, with Mercedes coming to form, but Charles clinches a respectable P4.
The Asian leg of the season has its highs and lows. In Japan, despite a torrential downpour, Charles masterfully handles the wet track to clinch the top step. On the podium, he points up at the sky and then shapes his fingers — first into a one and then a seven — a silent tribute to his late godfather and mentor.
However, China proves challenging and sees the SF-24 struggling unusually with tire degradation. But as Miami approaches, the team regroups and Charles takes a commanding win under the Florida sun.
Then comes Imola, the first of Ferrari’s home races.
As the sun shines brightly over the circuit named after your great-grandfather and grand uncle, you find yourself walking the track alongside Charles. The weight of racing on home soil evident in his eyes.
“Everything okay?” You check, sensing his nervous energy.
He looks at you and taking a deep breath. “Racing in front of the Tifosi at home always feel different. I want to make them proud.”
“No matter what happens today, they will be proud of you. The whole team will be proud of you. We’ve come so far.”
He smiles, visibly lighter. “Then let’s give them a race to remember.”
And it is nothing short of spectacular. Charles starts P2, but with determination and brilliant strategy, he overtakes Max in the final lap and secures a victory for Ferrari on home soil.
The roar of the crowd, the sea of red flags, the tears in Charles’ eyes as he stands atop the podium — you make a promise to never forget this moment.
As the sun sets on Imola, the Scuderia Ferrari team comes together, basking in their victory.
As Charles, champagne-soaked and beaming, pulls you in for a damp hug, it is clearer than ever that this season is only the beginning of a beautiful journey ahead.
***
“Norris is approaching on a flying lap. Make sure not to impede,” Claudio’s voice comes through crisp and clear over the radio during the dying moments of Q3 for the Monaco Grand Prix.
You can practically feel Charles’ concentration from where you’re seated on the Ferrari pit wall. The narrow streets of Monaco leave no room for error … Charles knows this better than most.
“Copy,” Charles responds, adjusting his position on the track just enough to give Lando the space he needs to pass while keeping his own momentum.
The clock is ticking and Charles needs a perfect lap if he wants to clinch pole position.
“Tires are feeling good. Pushing now,” Charles says, rounding the first corner with precision. The SF-24 dances around the iconic circuit, the roar of its engine echoing through the streets.
From Casino Square to the hairpin and through the tunnel, Charles’ driving is flawless. Every apex hit and every corner nailed.
“Final sector, Charles. Make it count,” Claudio encourages.
And he does. Crossing the line and jumping to the top of the timing board.
The garage cheers but there’s no time to waste. Tomorrow’s race is what truly matters.
***
Race day in Monaco is always special, but today, with Charles starting from pole, there’s an electric tension in the air.
“Lights out in ten,” Marit announces over the intercom.
Charles, already in the zone, simply nods.
And then he’s lined up on the front row.
The lights illuminate one by one. Then, in a heartbeat, they go out.
The race is on.
Charles gets a strong start, holding off challengers through the initial turns. The streets of Monaco are notoriously difficult for overtaking, so track position is everything.
“Maintain the pace. Tire management is key,” Claudio advises as the laps progress.
As the race unfolds, strategy becomes crucial.
“Plan to box in two laps,” Marit instructs through Claudio. With with Verstappen close on his tail, everything must be executed perfectly.
The pit stop is lightning-fast, the crew working in synchrony. Charles emerges just ahead of Max, who had followed him into the pits.
Throughout the race, Charles’ skill shines. He manages his tires, navigates the backmarkers, and keeps a razor-sharp focus.
The final laps approach. The team, the spectators, the entire Principality holds its breath.
The chequered flag waves and Charles crosses the finish line to takes his first home win. The elation, the pride, the sheer emotion of the moment is overwhelming.
“Monaco, Charles! You’ve won Monaco!”
Tears in his eyes, Charles responds, voice choked, “We did it! This is for Monaco. This is for Ferrari. Grazie mille. Merci beaucoup.”
The team gathers beneath the podium, celebrating their victory and the hometown here. Charles quickly sprays the two drivers beside him before aiming the bottle at the sea of red cheering in front of him and soaking his team in champagne.
He thinks back to how this weekend ended last season and let’s his elation wash away the years of dejected he faced before.
Things are different now.
***
“I’ve never seen Monaco come alive like this after a win,” you shout over the pulsating music in one of the city’s many upscale clubs.
Charles grins, leaning in closer so you can hear him. “It’s the magic of a home race victory!”
As the night turns to early morning, alcohol flows freer and the laughter grows louder.
The Ferrari team loves any reason to celebrate and they’re certainly making the most of the location.
Charles pulls you to a quieter corner of the VIP section. “Have you ever danced with a Monaco Grand Prix winner?”
You roll your eyes at the attempt at flirting but laugh as you accept his outstretched hand. “There’s a first time for everything.”
The two of you dance, losing track of time.
The world blurs around you. All that matters is the magnetic pull between you two which has been simmering for so long that it is threatening to overflow.
Charles pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
You relish in the warmth of his breath against your skin. “What’s that?”
“I’m drawn to you,” he admits, eyes searching yours. “Not just because of tonight but ... there’s something between us. I feel it. And I think you do too.”
You swallow hard. “I do.”
He hesitates before wrapping an arm around your waist, “Come with me.”
Without a word, you both exit the club, making your way to his apartment. The air between you is thick with anticipation but also vulnerability … openness.
Once inside, he gently pushes you against the wall, lips crashing onto yours. It’s passionate and intense, like a dam that has been waiting to break.
Charles pulls away slightly, “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whisper, eyes locked with his. “But ... Charles, not just for tonight. I don’t want this to be just a result of a victory high or the Monaco night air.”
He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t want that either. This isn’t about the race or the party. It’s about us. I think it’s been about us for a while now.”
“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”
He chuckles softly. “You think it’s easy, being around you every day, wanting to be close but maintaining a distance for the sake of professionalism? To spend every evening when we’re in Maranello sitting across from you at dinner and wishing that I could call it a date? But tonight,” he pauses, eyes searching yours, “Tonight felt different.”
You waste no time to draw him closer. “No more waiting then.”
***
Canada’s Circuit Gilles Villeneuve echoes with the roar of engines and the cheers of fans. Charles dominates the track, mastering the chicanes and the notorious Wall of Champions.
But the race isn’t straightforward. Mid-race, strategy suddenly changes when an unexpected rain shower soaks the track. However, the new strategy team you’ve brought in makes all the right calls and Charles takes the chequered flag.
In the Spanish sun, it’s a different story. The high-speed corners expose a slight flaw in the SF-24 which leaves Charles fighting valiantly but finishing third.
Despite the setback, you see determination in his eyes. “We’ll get them in Austria,” he promises.
True to his word, at the Red Bull Ring, he dominates. The SF-24 suits the straights and fast corners. Charles takes pole and leads every lap, building a gap that the competition can’t close. The victory feels even sweeter given the circuit’s name.
Silverstone proves challenging. There’s fierce competition, and while Charles doesn’t win, he’s involved in one of the most thrilling wheel-to-wheel battles of the season with Max Verstappen. They exchange positions multiple times, showing pure racing talent. In the end, Charles finishes a proud second after a photo finish.
The Hungarian Grand Prix tests the team. Tire strategy becomes paramount. The SF-24 shows vulnerabilities in the surprisingly sweltering conditions. Still, Charles’ impeccable driving and some cunning strategy calls earn him a place on the podium.
At the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Charles shines brilliantly. He conquers Eau Rouge and Raidillon like few can, making it seem effortless. The SF-24 feels perfectly balanced and he takes another win, smiling at the Ferrari flags waving high in the crowd as the Monegasque and Italian anthems play.
Through it all, you see Charles grow not just as a driver but as a leader and beacon of hope for the team and global fanbase. He is not just driving for himself or for Ferrari, he drives for everyone who believes in him.
***
The warm Italian sun pours golden light onto the expansive villa overlooking Lake Como. The water below sparkles, mirroring the sky. For a brief moment, the hectic world of Formula 1 feels miles away.
You’re lounging under an oversized umbrella, Aperol Spritz in hand, while Charles emerges from the pool, beads of water cascading down his toned physique.
“That swim was perfect,” Charles grins as he flops down beside you.
“You were in there for ages! Trying to turn into a fish?”
He shakes his head like a wet puppy, making you squeal as you try to escape the splashes. “Just preparing for our yacht trip. Besides, I have to burn off all those pasta dinners we’ve been having or else I won’t fit in the car by the end of the month.”
“The troubles of a professional athlete,” you laugh, “I’ve been indulging and I’m not even sorry.”
That evening, the two of you share a quiet moment on the terrace. Soft jazz floats from inside and cicadas buzz rhythmically.
“Remember our first race together?” Charles starts. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“I never imagined we’d be here. But I am so glad that we are.”
He meets your gaze, his eyes reflecting the same heat you feel. “Me too. These moments, away from the track with you ... they’re special.”
The following week, you find yourselves on a luxurious yacht off the coast of Sardinia. Charles’ family and both of your friends are aboard. The sun decks echo with laughter, music, and the soft lapping of waves. There is never a quiet moment and you relish in the sounds of happiness.
As you stand by the railing, watching Charles and Joris race each other on jet-skis, Arthur slides up beside you. “So, how’s life with my big brother?”
You laugh, “It’s an adventure every day. But honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Arthur nods, “I’ve never seen him this happy, you know?”
You smile warmly, your gaze drifting to where Charles has somehow fallen into the water and is now splashing his friend. “He brings out the best in me, just as I hope I do for him.”
***
The gentle lapping of the Mediterranean waves seems like a distant memory as you find yourself in Zandvoort.
“Quite the change of scenery, isn’t it?” Charles chuckles, standing beside you as the sea breeze of the Dutch coast tousles his hair.
You laugh, “A bit but I’ve missed it. Nothing beats the excitement of a race weekend.”
And what a weekend it was. Charles, against all odds, comes out on top at Max Verstappen’s home race. The Dutch crowd offer begrudging respect as Charles takes the top step.
And then, Monza.
Monza is different. There’s an electricity in the air that cannot be replicated anywhere else. It’s the home race of Ferrari … the cathedral of speed.
“Do you know,” you tell Charles as you both walk through the paddock, “I used to come here with my grandfather as a child. This track ... it’s steeped in history. I’ve always loved it.”
“Winning here was like nothing else I have ever experience,” he reflects. “Let’s do it again. We’ll write our own chapter in history this weekend.”
Qualifying is a nail-biter. Charles pushes the SF-24 to its limits, dancing on the edge of control.
“How are we looking?” Charles checks in.
“You’re on provisional pole,” Claudio responds over the radio. “But push on the last sector. Max is close and getting closer.”
And push he does. Charles clinches pole with a margin that leaves no doubts about the capabilities of both the driver and the car.
Race day, the atmosphere is fever-pitched. The Tifosi, in their sea of red, wave their flags and banners, chanting Charles’ name like a prayer. As the lights go out, the battle rages. The strategy is aggressive, a one-stop that requires Charles to defend position in the latter stages of the race.
“Lap 45. Push now, we need widen this gap,” Claudio instructs.
The tires scream in protest as Charles further carves out a lead. But as the laps tick down, Verstappen and Piastri close in.
“Drive smart and hold them off. Four laps to go. You’ve got this,” Claudio urges him on.
Going wheel-to-wheel with Max through the Ascari chicane, Charles pulls ahead. The Tifosi roar, their energy and sheer will pushing him on.
“Last lap. Bring it home!”
And he does.
As Charles crosses the finish line, the crowd erupts. The track is soon packed with red as fans flood the track, surrounding the podium.
From the sea of faces, one voice stands out — yours, “You did it, Charles. Monza is yours.”
He lifts the trophy high, a tear in his eye, “We did it. This is for Ferrari … for the Tifosi … for us.”
***
The streets of Baku and the lights of Singapore both witness the magic that Charles and the SF-24 weave together. Two more wins, two more steps closer to the championship.
And then you find yourselves in Texas.
“Do you remember this time last year?” Charles asks.
“How could I forget? It was the phone call that changed everything.”
Charles laughs but there’s a weight to it, “For both of us. It was a disaster ... pole to sixth and then the disqualification. All because of...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, the mismanagement of the team a heavy shadow neither of you can forget.
“You’ve grown since then,” you point out gently, “The team has grown. Look at where we are now.”
He nods, taking a deep breath, “One year. So much has changed. From one of the worst days in my racing career to ... this.” Charles gestures around, to the revamped team, the transformed car, the very atmosphere of competence that permeates every corner of the Ferrari garage.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispers, “The championship is within our grasp. Right back where it all went wrong.”
You take a moment to pull out your laptop and open a data sheet, “Here’s the breakdown. If Max gets P2 in both the sprint and the race, you need P1 in both. That’s how we seal the championship this weekend.”
Charles’ eyes scan the spreadsheet, “That’s ... a tall order.”
“But not impossible. Not for you and not for this team,” you assure him.
He chuckles again but it’s brighter now, “With you in my corner? I know anything is possible.”
***
The energy is electric when qualifying day arrives in Austin. You find Charles in his driver’s room, eyes closed in focus as he visualizes the track.
“You ready for this?”
His eyes pop open, determination burning in them. “Ready. Let’s show them what we can do.”
Qualifying unfolds in a blur of fast laps and bated breath. Charles pushes the limits, wrestling the SF-24 around the bumpy circuit.
“Time for one more lap. Give it your all here,” Claudio radioes through.
Jaw set, Charles squeezes all he can from the SF-24. Silence falls as he crosses the line … broken by cheers as his new lap time is set.
Pole position for the second season in a row.
Charles sheds his helmet and rips off his balaclava. “Yes! That’s how we start a weekend!”
The sprint shootout and race similarly see Charles launch cleanly from P1, building a gap early.
“Verstappen is matching your pace, don’t let him get within DRS range,” Claudio advises.
“Copy,” Charles responds, focused.
A late charge from Max raises tensions but Charles keeps him at bay, taking the chequered flag and the eight points.
“That’s the way to do it!” You shout as Charles enters the garage.
“Grand Slam in the sprint, now time for the main event,” he grins.
You rally the team Sunday morning. “Remember, the start is crucial. The car that lines up in P2 has led by the end of lap 1 for five years in a row. We need full focus.”
It seems like barely any time has passed before Charles takes his spot on the grid. Lights out, tires screeching, he holds the lead through the first lap madness.
“Nicely done,” Claudio praises. “Manage those tires now.”
The pit stop strategy is executed flawlessly. Charles takes his second stop, emerging ahead of a charging Verstappen.
“Ten laps remaining,” Claudio counts down.
Charles responds with measured confidence, “Let’s bring it home.”
In the closing laps, he is poetry in motion, hitting each apex and maximizing every straight. Max closes in but Charles is perfect to the millimeter.
“Charles Leclerc,” Claudio’s voice cracks with emotion, “you are the World Champion!”
Eyes wet, Charles radios in, “Yes! Yes! Yes! We did it! Thank you guys! This is unbelievable! Grazie, grazie mille, grazie a tutti! It’s been an incredible season with all of you. This is for the team, for Ferrari, for all the fans, and for everyone who has supported me. We brought it back to Maranello! I’m speechless ... grazie, thank you!”
In the garage, celebrations in full swing, you lean in with a laugh, “Don’t worry, I checked with the FIA — the plank is up to regulation this time.”
Grinning, Charles pulls you into a passionate kiss as the team hoots and hollers around you.
The World Champion smiles so bright he makes the Texan sun look dull in comparison.
You would do anything to make sure he feels like this every season. You will do anything to make sure he feels like this every season.
***
The winter sun casts a warm glow on Maranello as you walk beside Charles into the Ferrari factory. The off-season buzz of activity fills the air as the team prepares for next year’s challenges.
Charles looks at the sleek lines of the new SF-25 with anticipation. “She’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see what she can do.”
“This one’s special. She’ll be fighting for the championship again.”
“Yeah?”
“You heard me right,” you say with a smile. “I made you a promise. Last season was just the beginning.”
As Charles turns for a briefing, you spot Fred across the room. Your relationship has evolved and he now respects the authority you wield for the team’s benefit.
Approaching, you extend a hand. “I wanted to say, you’ve led the team well this past season.”
He grasps it firmly. “We share this success. Thank you for being the catalyst we needed”
You know there will still be challenges ahead. But Ferrari has been reinvigorated. Its racing spirit has been reignited.
That evening, Charles joins you on the terrace of the home you both share when in Maranello and wraps you both in a warm blanket to fight the chill. “Can you believe what a year it’s been?”
You shake your head. “It’s been a dream.”
He pulls you close. “The dream is just beginning and it’s a dream I hope we never wake up from.”
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How Everyone In The Paddock Knows You're Dating : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction
» Max Verstappen
He’s naturally paying attention to you, without even realising that he’s doing it until one of the team nudges his side. The team are well aware of Max’s eyes trailing across to look at you, or switching off to the conversation as soon as you start talking. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, but the team are well trained and constantly have to remind Max to pay attention again. He can’t help but smile whenever he’s looking at you, especially when he watches you walk around the garage with such an interest, showing a genuine enthusiasm for learning as much as you can about where Max works and what he does,
» Lando Norris
He’s like a big kid most of the time, but Lando becomes a lot softer whenever he’s around you, like you make him weak at the knees just from being by his side. The team notice how needy he becomes as soon as he’s in your presence, searching for affection as often as possible. Lando stops focusing on anyone else, the only person that he wants to be around is you. No one in the garage can believe how different Lando is when he’s around you, how he stumbles around, how he giggles uncontrollably, how he can’t bear to be in the same room as you without some sort of physical contact.
» Charles LeClerc
Everyone knows that your Charles because his eyes are always watching you. He loves knowing exactly where you are, forever checking that you’re alright and that you’re safe. When he loses sight of you, Charles can’t help but panic, eyes darting around until he spots you again. There’s a fondness in his eyes whenever he’s watching you, if you’re smiling, he’s smiling, if you’re laughing, he laughs with you, and if you seem upset, Charles gets upset too, heading over to you to see if you’re alright. It doesn’t matter what’s happening at the paddock, Charles loves the feeling of knowing that you’re right there with him, like a comfort right by his side.
» George Russell
No one in the paddock can fault how much of a gentleman George is for you, despite how busy he is, he always manages to make time to do all the little things for you. He holds the door open for you at every opportunity, keeps his arm around you to protect you from the crowd, offers you his jacket whenever he notices that you’re getting cold, anything that he can in order to keep you safe. Before a race George checks up on you, makes sure that you’re warm enough, had plenty of food, and ensures you’re sat where you can see the race in a spot that’s nice and quiet.
» Carlos Sainz
His smile always gets bigger the second he notices you’re around, usually spotting you out of the corner of his eye whilst half listening to what’s being said by the team. When he knows you’re nearby, Carlos is eager for things to be wrapped up as soon as possible so he can go over and see you. As soon as you’re within touching distance, Carlos’ arm wraps around you, with a kiss pressed to the top of your head to greet you, wondering what you’ve been up to whilst he’s been busy. Nobody else needs to look to see if you’re there, they can tell by the excitement in Carlos’ expression that you’re around.
» Oscar Piastri
Every single person in the paddock has listened to Oscar tell some sort of story about you, he loves telling them about you. He talks about you with so much excitement that every single one of them knows just how in love Oscar is with you too, sounding much happier than he ever does when he’s talking about his car. He remembers every last detail about the things that he does with you, and has the world’s biggest smile on his face whenever he shares them with anyone. It’s one thing that he’ll never tire of, forever gushing about you around his team.
» Daniel Ricciardo
It’s the little things that everyone in the paddock notices that Daniel always does for you. It’s the way he passes you one of his caps if it’s particularly sunny or passes you his water bottle to drink out of when you tell him that you’re getting thirsty and can’t get through to get a drink. He’s constantly attentive, despite how busy he’s supposed to be, he can’t help but still pay attention and make sure that he’s protecting you. The whole team knows just how in love Daniel is with you, after all, he doesn’t take care of any of them anywhere near as well as he takes care of you.
» Lewis Hamilton
The team can’t help but admire the way that Lewis looks at you, like you’re the most fragile person in the world that he has to protect. He loves to have you glued to his side when he’s at the paddock, no matter who he’s talking to. Whether it be a team meeting, a chat with a sponsor, or providing some feedback to Toto and Bono, Lewis still has his eyes on you. You don’t say much, not that you can, but when you do speak, Lewis looks at you with such an adoring look that the rest of the team can’t help but admire how fond Lewis is of you.
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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