#sorry ferrari but today im celebrating mclaren

[livelaughlovefootball]

I guess the good luck charm alternates between ferrari and mclaren? 😭 'If one needs to prosper, the other needs to be sacrificed'

😭😭😭

I guess so...

So apparently Ferrari and McLaren cannot both do well in the same race. I ain't got enough luck for that.

So every sunday i'll laugh for one and cry for the other. My emotions are quite mixed bc half of me wants to be so happy for mclaren and the other half wants to be all sulky for ferrari

[merchelsea]

took care of your girl - max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen + fem! driver!(charles' gf) reader

summary: charles is too busy celebrating his P2 to care about your home dnf, but max is not.

author's note: this is my first time writing for tumblr and im so excited!! i cant believe i actually came up with is.

word count: 4k+

PART TWO

"ugh, you're so boring." charles sighed.

he had been trying to convince you to go celebrate his p2 with him for the last five minutes, but you were just not in the mood for a party.

i mean, this was monza. ferrari's and alfa romeo's home race, but your home race too. you had big expectations for this one.

of course you didn't mind ending up 6th, like you thought you would 4 laps before the end. you just wanted to cross the line. but you didn't.

at lap 50, you collided with sargeant, who was trying to overtake. the williams got to the end, and you didn't. you thought it was so unfair, but there was nothing you could do.

you had done an amazing race, managing to go from 15th to 6th. it was more than enough after a terrible qualifying, and you couldn't understand how someone took that from you in a heartbeat.

you were so angry. all you wanted to do was cry. but you still got out there with your best smile and watched the drivers getting to the podium.

first one to get up there was lando, who once again did a great race for mclaren, ending up 3rd after an 8th in qualifying. he was a great driver and everyone could see it.

then they called charles. the man in ferrari red stepped into the 2nd place with the brightest smile. he was really happy, and so were you. you were happy for him, genuinely.

you smiled and applauded just like everyone. you were so proud of your boyfriend. of how he managed to get that thing they call a car from 13th to 2nd.

the tifosi were out of their minds proud, and so were you.

in that moment, just for that one tiny amount of time, all you felt was happiness.

and then they called max verstappen. you sighed and applauded when the men got to his place. your smile never fading, but growing wider. you were beyond proud, more than what words could ever achieve to show. so you just stood there applauding.

you knew it was boring to see the same person win race after race, always getting to step on that ridiculous number one. but he deserved it, and you were delighted to be able to see his dreams coming true. because he was talented, that’s something no one could deny, but he worked his ass off.

you didn't get to watch them celebrate tho. because, unfortunately, someone called you in the garage.

lewis was already there when you arrived, and he was the first to talk to you.

"hey listen, i'm sorry for what happened. you deseved that 6th." he pat on your shoulder and you smiled, thankful.

"it was a great race, just a bad outcome." you sighed after hugging him casually like you always did after a race. "you nailed it today, congrats!" he thanked you and toto arrived, wanting to talk to both his drivers.

"you were absolutely amazing out there today. every person in this team is very proud." he smiled. "of both of you." his eyes fell on you when he said that. he knew you well, and he could tell you blamed yourself for what happened, even if you didn't show. "the incident with the williams was a shame, but you two fought like hell. i am proud of you."

you faked a smile and thanked toto. his words were comforting but they didn't do much. you were still upset.

that's why the first thing you did when you were free was lock yourself in your driver room. letting your body fall into the couch you reached for your phone to focus your mind on something that was not the race.

but after a little, you heard someone knocking in your door.

"mon amour? it's me. can i come in?" you got up and unlocked the door, facing your smiley boyfriend. he greeted you with a wholehearted kiss, showing you how happy he was for his race.

"hey baby." you smiled to him. "you did so good today, i am the proudest girlfriend in the world." you whispered into the tight hug you pulled him to.

"thank you!" he said simply, not even acknowledging your race. you weren't surprised because he never did, but it was your home race. and somehow you thought that changed something. "so, does the proudest girlfriend in the world want to come and celebrate with her man?"

and that is just how you got into this 'fight'.

"i'm not boring. you know that i would go any other day." you tried to explain yourself. it was kind of embarrassing, having to explain that to the person who's supposed to love you and understand you. "i just dnf'ed, charles. in my home country. after a freaking perfect race. that´s not easy."

"aren´t you happy for me?" he asked, looking at you with a fake sad expression.

"of course i am. you know i am." how could you not be? the monegasque deserved this more than anything.

"then come. why don't you make an effort for me? you know how important this is. and i want you to be by my side." he begged.

he didn't understand you. god, he didn't even try to. he was the one who wasn't making an effort here. he never made, and that's what you've been realizing for quite sometime.

"i'm sorry charles. but not today. you go and enjoy for me." his fake expression suddenly faded to give room to a frown.

"fine." he sighed and left, slamming the door on his way out.

you stood in the drivers room, this time not trying to avoid any thoughts. in fact, you were analyzing the race. from the start to the moment you went out.

all of your overtakes were perfect, not once colliding with other cars. you knew that because you were in the car, but you were looking for something to blame, some other touch that could've damaged the car slightly. but you never found it.

so you cried. you cried looking at the roof of the room. you cried your heart out because you were this close to proving people wrong, you were this close to making your people proud.

you cried until you heard another knock on the door, this time around being the last mechanics in the garage, telling you they would go for dinner and would come back later, leaving you alone for sometime.

when they left, you went to take a look at the car. and observing it, you realized what went wrong. but instead of putting your mind to rest, you started to think about what you could've done to prevent it.

"what are you doing here?" you heard a familiar voice, and turned to face its owner. the dutch was looking down at you, who cried with her head between her knees, in front of her racing car.

max had changed into his normal people clothes, whilst you still wore your racing suit.

"it's my team's garage. what are you doing here?" you asked, highlighting the 'you'.

"i was on my way and saw you here. what happened? why are you here on your own?" he asked. genuine preoccupation in his eyes. you could recognize any expression of his. any and every.

"nothing happened. i just wanted to be alone." you lied. straight up lied into his eyes. that was not something you were used to nor something you liked to do. but you did. and you knew he didn't buy it for a second.

"oh yeah. you decided you wanted to be alone, sitting against a wall, crying, for three hours after the race without showering and changing, just for fun? sounds like something i would do." max ironically said.

"look verstappen, i just wanted to be alone. and i still do, so if you could go away i would appreciate it." you said, getting up to walk to your room.

"don't call me verstappen." he says seriously. you never call him verstappen. "and i'm not leaving you alone after today. i know better than to do that." he follows you, leaning in the door frame when you are about to close the door in his face. "where is your so called boyfriend?"

your left eyebrow shot up as your head turned to look at him. his face remained serious, waiting for an answer.

"celebrating his podium. aren't you supposed to be celebrating your win?" you asked carefully, trying to get him to leave.

"maybe." he crosses his arms in his chest as you turn off your laptop and put it in your bag.

"then go." you said simply, collecting your stuff to go home. you wanted to stay there, but alone.

"not unless you're coming with me." he changes his position again to be more comfortable as you sighed, making him know you were getting tired. but that didn't change anything for him.

"leave, max." you said firmly, looking at him. he mimicked a 'no' with his mouth. "why?" you tried to get out of the room, but just as you passed through the door, the dutch caught your arm, making you look up to face him. your height difference was not too big, but it was still noticeable.

"because i know you, and leaving you alone after a dnf here, is a mistake i don't want to make." he let go of your arm, but you didn't move. "a mistake i'm not going to make." you stepped back, and proceeded to pick up your stuff. "go shower and get dressed, i'll get your stuff. if you are going home, i'm going with you."

"no. i don't want you to come." he laughed.

"care to guess who doesn't give a fuck, darling?"

"do not call me darling. and you are not coming, i wont let you in." you threatened, knowing you would never do such thing.

"then i hope you have money for a new door." he was determined, and you knew he was damn serious about not leaving you alone.

"i hate you." you laughed and as soon as the sound got to his ears his mouth formed a big bright smile. oh, what that laugh did to him. it was even better than winning races.

"if that means i get to come, i'm more than happy. now go shower." you did as he said, going straight to the bathroom.

once inside, you never thought about stuff like not giving the interviews you were supposed to, or how charles never once said he was proud of you.

the only thing you thought about was max, in your room, picking up your stuff so that you could go home with him. and the fact that it wasn't strange nor weird, it was fine.

from the beginning, you two had a special connection with each other. that's why you became best friends so easily, and also why you fell in love with him.

but he never showed reciprocity, so you thought it was a one way thing. god knows that if he had gave you one minimal sign, you would've never ended up with charles. the thing his, he didn't.

since your red bull day's, in his eyes you were just friends. or at least that's what you thought.

cause it turns out that the world champion is a way better liar than you could imagine. or you are just blind. because the signs were always there, you just doubted yourself enough to be oblivious to them.

it was the little things. like you being the first person he talked to after every freaking race. or how he was always in his best mood for you, but only for you. how he always said he was proud of you after a race, it didn't matter if you ended up first or last. he always came to you, hugged you tight and whispered "you were amazing, i'm so proud of you".

that's the kind of thing you noticed but never payed attention to. and that's exactly why you are with charles now. because he, on the other hand, was direct and shoot his shot.

he didn't love you and you didn't love him, but you felt good with each other, and it was nice having someone. you both knew it from the start, even if you denied with every thing in yourselves. it was just so obvious now.

you got out of the bathroom with hair still wet, but already dressed in your black sweat pants and your light pink top. max had picked every single thing, leaving your room exactly how you found him.

"let's go?" he asked, after a couple of seconds observing and admiring you.

you nodded in response and tossed your car keys to him.

"you drive, i sing." he picked them and laughed.

"deal." you made your way to your, brand new, white mercedes in a comfortable silence. but when you closed the doors, he broke it. "i don't want you blaming yourself, williams got a 10 second penalty for a reason. you were amazing, i'm so proud of you."

"you always say that." you smiled, looking at him.

"because it's true. i am proud of you."

"i know, and i am proud of you too. it's just that you always say the exact same thing." you noticed. max was sure you never took note of his words, but he didn't know how much they meant to you.

"i guess it became kind of our thing now." with now, he meant the past 3 years. you just nodded and smiled, searching through your phone for a good song.

"hey max?" you called, still unsure if you should mention it. he muttered something you didn't understand due to being focused on your words. "you know you don't have to do this, right?"

"do what, y/n?" he asked, fully focused on the car as he started driving.

"care because he didn't." straight to the point, we can see some improvements.

"omg, you can be so dumb sometimes." he talked, out loud, to himself. you didn't understand, so he might just be right. which is something you'll never say.

"huh?" you muttered, confused. he was indeed right.

"i care. i always do. i would have cared even if he had some decency in that shitty brain of his and had, at least, taken you home. do you actually believed i would have to go through the mercedes garage to get to my car?" he laughed, your face full of confusion, reflecting what was happening inside of your mind. "i was looking for you. i thought charles had took you home, or out, but i had this little thing inside of me telling me to check."

"oh yeah, that was me sending you telepathic messages." you joked. "thank you for coming, max. this is just a very important day for charles."

"whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n. and i would always come, any day and anytime." max took his eyes off the road to face you.

"are you saying racing is not important for him?" you focused on the first sentence.

"i'm saying he would do this on a regular tuesday. and i'm saying i would come after winning at zandvoort if you were needed me." he sighed. "you should stop lying to yourself." now was your turn to sigh. just as he layed his eyes on the road, your right hand went through your hair.

frustration, anger, sadness, loneliness.

"i'm not lying to myself, you don't know him like i do."

"i may not, but i know you. better than he ever will. you don't love him, and i bet my career you never even managed to lie to him about it." ding ding ding, max verstappen, the mr. knows it all was right once again. you are mad at him for knowing you so damn well.

"if i didn't, then why would i be with him?" you tried again. fooling max was getting more difficult by the day.

"we both know why." he said to your eyes, turning his head when he was done talking. damn, max.

the rest of the ride was completely silent, you wanted to say something but you couldn't. you simply could not. you couldn't even put on some music to relieve the tension.

all those questions coming to your head like gun shots "does he really know?" "why didn't he say something?" "does he see me the way i saw him? the way i still see him." every single one of them wounding you, creating a whole you couldn't close.

he was silent as well, his mind a little quieter than yours. that had been stressing his mind ever since you told him about charles, and now he couldn't keep it in.

not when the girl he loved was left alone by her boyfriend for a fucking party. he would've never do such thing, max would've been by her side, letting her know how proud he was, how loved she was.

the dutch was so angry, it took him everything to stay silent in that ride. but he did it, because it wasn't your fault. he was mad at charles, for not being a good enough boyfriend. he was infuriated because the monegasque couldn't make you happy. he was out of his mind because the greened eye ferrari driver took the place in your life that he wanted. that, in his head and heart, was supposed to be his.

the first glimpse of voice came from his mouth, when you were already in your apartment. monza was the only racing place you had somewhere to call home.

"come here." he opened his arms, when you looked at him. you expected him to talk, you wanted him to talk, but that was the only thing max said. the only thing he wanted in that moment was to feel you close, feel like he was protecting you from every bad thing.

of course you went, you would always go. his armes embraced you almost immediately and you closed your eyes, trying desperately to feel him closer. you could try to deny it but you missed him more than anything.

"i'm sorry." you apologized. none of you knew what you were talking about, yet at the same time, you both knew exactly what you meant.

max didn't respond, not with an "it's okay" nor a "not your fault". he simply kissed the top of your head while stroking your hair, and you knew it was okay. everything was fine between you two.

maybe not fine, but they were okay for now.

"break up with him." he half advised you half asked you. everyone knew that was the right thing to do, but he wanted you to do it for other reasons too, not just because it was right.

you chuckled into his chest, causing him to push a little just to face you.

"you talk like it's easy." he stepped back, separating the two bodies completely.

"breakups aren't easy, but yours, particularly, is. it's as simple as it sounds." he went back to the serious features.

"it's still a break-up."

"breakups only hurt when you love each other. do you love him?" you stood silent as he stepped closer. you watched as he brought his hand to your chin, caressing him once there's contact. "tell me. do you love him?"

"i don't." you let out as a sigh. instead of smiling, like you expected, max's face did the exact opposite.

"then why are you with him?" he asked in a low, tired voice. he was trying to find an explanation where he was not in the middle. he wanted to know that he was not involved in the why you weren't happy.

max knew, deep down, that you felt something for him. he always had that feeling. but, in his defense, you didn't make it easy for him. hiding it, locking the feelings in a deep part of your yourself, where no one could find them. bringing up some made-up-boy whenever you felt like you where being to obvious, constantly telling him he was like a big brother you could talk about that sort of thing. you had covered up the truth pretty damn well.

but even with all of that, he knew. something in him just knew. and all he could think about now was how he could've changed something, how you wouldn't be with someone who didn't deserve you if he had just done something.

he had tons of opportunities to ask you out on a date, or tell you how he really felt. it was just hard to believe you would feel something for him sometimes, so he waited for you. he waited until it was too late.

"i like him." you lied again. it was the second time you lied straight into his eyes in such a little time. that pissed him off. you should never feel the need to lie to him.

"bullshit. we both know that you're with him because i never risked losing you for how i felt. i never got to shoot my shot, and he did. that's why you are with him."

you lowered your head, both hands going to your face immediately. you felt like crap.

"what do you expect me to say?" you asked, raising your voice. your eyes finally fell on his.

"i don't expect you to say anything. i just want you to cut this thing you two have going on." his gaze never left your face, not even when you weren't looking at him. "you don't deserve this. you deserve to be happy. to be treated right. you deserve to be loved right."

another sight and then silence filled the room. no one could say anything.

"just..." he started, leading your eyes to look for his. "do you still..?"

"yes, max" you shot automatically, your voice sounded like a cry, but that didn't matter.

he sighed, relieved. and then stepped closer again, pulling your body to his, in a hug. he let you cry against his shoulder, while he cried silently against yours.

you pulled away to look into his eyes, smiling silently. even being like this, you had just found out that this was no 'one way thing', he felt the same.

"stop smiling. i'm fighting over here not to kiss you." you laughed, that was the best thing you could've heard that day.

"don't." you searched for his hand, taking it into yours once you've found it.

"i would love to, believe me. but as much as i want this, you have to be fully single first." his eyes were so bright that you were sure they could glow in the dark. you always loved his eyes.

"i love you, max." you whispered with the biggest smile on your face.

"i love you too." he whispered back. your smile growing impossibly wider.

max kissed the top of your head before leaving your room. it was a bit past 4a.m. and you had just finished watching a rom-com movie you liked.

it's fascinating how you two fit so perfectly. it's like you've been handmade for each other.

of course that, on his way out, max had to find charles coming. because that's just your life.

the dutch and the monegasque spent a little of time just staring at each other.

"what are you... what did you do in there?" charles asked breaking the awful silence that had been installed. you could hear everything from the inside of the room due to the paper thin walls.

"i took care of your girl." you would pay to see charles’ face that moment. "not so yours anymore, i guess." max said with his most serious face. he definitely won the idgaf war.

"not so mine anymore? mate, what are you talking about?" his confusion was deeply amplified by the alcohol in his system.

"i don't know man, figure it out." the world champion responded and walked out.

he knew that the moment he walked out charles would enter that room and lay in the same bed you were. but he didn't mind, he trusted you fully. and on top of everything, he knew that no matter what, he was the one you loved.

so when he closed that door, he had a smile on his face, knowing damn well he would open her soon.

[amirasainz]

OMG LANDO WON THE RACE TODAY. IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM. LITERALLY CAN NOT STOP CRYING. Can you write on where baby!sainz is there supporting him and literally crying as he wins.

HI loves! I'M so sorry but am I the onyl one who found the whole Carlos vs. Oscar thing so funny? Carlos whining was so funny (no hate towards any drivers!!!)

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy reading this and please send me some requests!

-XoXo

The Winner takes it all

Ah, Miami—the sun-kissed jewel in the racing calendar. Amira’s secret favorite, where the vibrant energy of the city blended seamlessly with the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere of the track. Perhaps it was the balmy weather that allowed her to flaunt those pretty summer clothes, or maybe the challenging circuit that kept drivers on their toes. And let’s not forget the food trucks—those mobile havens of culinary delight that dotted the paddock, tempting everyone with their sizzling aromas.

The livery and helmets, custom-crafted for the Miami Grand Prix, added an extra layer of excitement. Each design told a story: sleek curves and bold colors, a canvas for the drivers’ personalities. Amira reveled in the anticipation, her heart dancing to the rhythm of engines and tire screeches.

As tradition dictated, she accepted the invitation from Carlos (and the others). This year, she took her time getting ready. The morning sun painted her room in warm hues, and Amira felt it—an electric current of anticipation. Her abuela’s voice echoed in her mind: Confía en tus instintos, mi niña.

Arriving at the paddock with Carlos, Charles, and Alex, Amira’s smile bloomed. The camaraderie of the racing family enveloped her—the shared laughter, the knowing glances. The other three found her reaction endearing, a testament to her genuine love for this world. Before the engines roared to life, she soaked in the before-race energy—the hum of possibility, the promise of speed.

And then, the ex-president approached. His words hung in the air, but Amira’s instincts flared. She turned away, a subtle pivot that spoke volumes. Stranger danger, indeed. Like c'mon. Can we fault her for that?

The Miami Grand Prix—a sun-drenched spectacle where the roar of engines mingles with the rhythm of salsa beats. Finally it started. Amira stood between Alex and Pirro Ferrari, the latter a seasoned gentleman who’d seen more races than most. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a symphony of tire rubber and adrenaline.

And then it happened—the Oscar vs. Carlos showdown. Amira stifled a laugh. She loved her brother, but who did he think he was, ordering Oscar to yield? The unimpressed behavior from Oscar was priceless. But when Carlos collided with him, Amira’s amusement faded. This wasn’t the Carlos she knew—the calculated racer who danced on the edge but never lost control.

Yet destiny had other plans. As the laps ticked by, Amira’s attention shifted. Lando Norris, the boy with the perpetual grin, surged ahead. Her Lando. The backstory was simple: Lando had a crush on her, and Amira? Well, she was still figuring it out. Just a girl caught in the whirlwind of racing drama.

When Lando finally crossed the checkered flag, Amira’s heart soared. Tears escaped, unbidden. No more Lando Nowins—the boy who’d always been second. She flung herself into Pirro Ferrari’s arms, and he held her gently. “Ahh, young love,” he thought, watching the victory celebration unfold. “La cosa più dolce del mondo.” Indeed, sweetest of all.

As the cheers echoed through the paddock, Amira reveled in the euphoria of victory. Lando Norris, her Lando, had clinched his breakthrough maiden Formula 1 win at the Miami Grand Prix. The sun bathed the track in golden hues, and the air buzzed with celebration.

But then, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Amira! Come join us, sweetie.” Zac Brown and Andrea Stella stood near the Ferrari box, beckoning her over. She glanced at Mr. Ferrari, who nodded with a smile. The McLaren bosses pulled her towards the fence. They knew better than to put her in the front row; Lando would undoubtedly leap over the barrier in his exuberance.

“Is it alright that I’m here?” Amira asked, her heart racing. “I know this is more of a McLaren celebration, and I don’t want to disturb.”

Zac and Andrea exchanged a knowing look. Andrea rested a hand on her shoulder. “Amira, honey,” he said gently. “I think Lando would flip out if you weren’t here.”

And then, as if summoned by fate, Lando appeared. He leaped into the arms of the mechanics, their cheers lifting him higher. He was their winner—the boy who’d fought for this moment. But there was one more surprise in store.

Zac and Andrea approached Lando. “We have a 1.60m surprise for you,” they said, grinning. Lando’s confusion melted into understanding as he followed their gaze. His eyes locked onto Amira, standing there like a beacon. Without hesitation, he ran to her, lifting her off her feet. She clung to him, like a baby koala seeking refuge.

For an eternity, they held each other—the race winner and the girl who’d captured his heart. And in that moment, amid the cheers and the sun-kissed joy, they found their own victory.

“Lando. My Lando… You finally did it. I’m so proud of you. Mi ganador,” she whispered quietly. In that suspended moment, the world ceased its frantic spin. The crowd froze, their collective breath held. For one perfect moment, everthing stopped.

There existed only the two of them—the victorious racer and the girl who’d cheered him on. Lando leaned his forehead against hers, a shared heartbeat. A tear escaped Amira’s eye, and he wiped it away with gentle urgency. “My Mira. I did it. I finally won,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. She couldn’t find words, so she nodded, her heart echoing his triumph. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent—the sweet mix of adrenaline and possibility.

And then, as if the universe nudged them forward, time resumed its march. Lando was whisked away to the podium, the spotlight now on him. Cameras clicked, capturing moments that would echo through history: Lando’s gaze fixed directly on Amira, her tears as he received the trophy, and Andrea’s proud smile.

Even the commentators—Crofty and Bundl—couldn’t resist. “And here we see Amira Sainz,” they narrated. “The youngest sister of Carlos Sainz and a famous actress. It seems she’s shedding happy tears for her friend Lando Norris, who just won his first GP. And… is she reapplying her lip gloss?” The world watched, and in that snapshot of time, Amira and Lando’s story became legend.

[dayslynthesix]

hello to you there! im soooo happy about today's victory that i dont even know how to put that happiness in words, but I'll try

Devils roll the dice | Charles Leclerc imagine | part 3

this is part 3 of welcome to the team, you can read part 2 here

sunday, july 10th, red bull ring, austria :

"hey charles, i just want to tell you that's a p1, you did it, p1, charles, p1" y/n said on the radio, the smile bigger than she could imagined, the ferrari garage was celebrating charles victory

"oh my god, y/n, we did it, i was so scared, oh my god", charles were audibly happy

72 hours before:

y/n went bananas with the austrian gp, it was red bulls home, they people would be all around it, all the pressure, the comments, the stress... it would be all about ten times worse than anywhere on the calendar. after great britain things got weird, to say the least, between charles and mattia, specially after the cameras take that photo of mattia with his italian way of pointing fingers to someone after the race, the garages went shut, we weren't communicating nearly close to enough as we should, and that was reflecting on everyone; charles went back to monaco as soon as he could, and his way to show that he was upset was leaving his lovely pista spider behind, mattia saw that as his red flag to went to his driver and fix things, y/n had absolutely no idea how things went, but considering that charles was here and apparently in a good mood was a great start, or she thinks so.

when she retweeted something saying that charles needed to get into his reputation era (on her private twitter account that she forgot he follow her on his private account) she wasn't expecting him to actually do it. during the sprint race when she asked him if she needed information about the currently position and he answered back with a solid "no, i don't care, but thank you" she went into a deep mood state called "im ready to commit a crime". and listen to me, charles wasn't a rude person, he was actually a really polite one, he almost never give the team bad answers and was very polite with everyone, and y/n had absolutely nothing to do with all the shit they pulled with him before she arrived, so when he left his car post qualy, she went straight after him - and everyone heard her cursing in portuguese and they knew better than sticking their noses around to listen the really soft conversation they would have.

he entered the room and when the door was millimeters to close y/n entered too, and the sound the door made was heard back into mclarens garage.

"what..." charles started saying but the look into y/n face was so angry he shut himself

"i don't care, but thank you" she signaled with quotations marks in the air "that all you gonna give to me? you know i don't have anything with the bullshit the team is putting on you, on the other hand, im here to make your life easier, to help you to win the fucking championship, do you know that, right?"

"yes, i know, and it was not what i meant..."

"is was not what you meant? do you want to get angry? fine, do it, with mattia, with the awful pit team, with the strategy team, not with me, because if the whole championship depended on me you could bet you would be leading it, but guess what, it DOES NOT" you emphasized the last two words

"y/n, im sorry, i wasn't directed towards you" he was visible concerned about fucking things up with you

"i was the one on the radio with you, and if you don't like that you can ask for a switch" y/n said and leave the room, she was about to cry, but she didn't, she went for a walk instead, walking through pierre gasly, who not ironically was doing the exactly the same thing

"your best friend is an asshole" she said as she got close to him

"yeah, i agree on this one" he said and she remembered the little incident on free practice when they nearly touched each other

"i would make a toast, but i don't have any drinks, by the way, im sorry on how the season is going, the car is worse than the 1997 fiat uno i used to drive back in school"

"woah, i never thought about the car being this bad, but i think you're not wrong. what charles did that let you this red? or you're just matching the outfit?" you let a laugh out

"im being passive aggressive because i hate when people talk rude with me, but until tomorrow we're back to normal, anyway, it was nice to see you gasly, good luck tomorrow"

"you too, y/n. you too" he walked away from you, going back to the alpha tauri garage as you grabbed your phone to find something to do while you waited to go back. you opened you stories about last week when you and charles went back to your hotel room and drink half of the tequila bottle while playing monopoly and watching funny videos on tiktok, he opened up with you about the season so far and you understand why he was so mad, but it didn't give him the right to direct that angry to you, and hit a nerve all the attitude, and the lack of it from mattia, you've saw the fight the drivers where pulling with each other and if that keeps going they wouldn't win anything, but you're just a mere mortal, if the big boss didn't know what he was doing you wouldn't be the one to teach him.

you want straight to the cars, never stopping by to see the boys, you need a couple of moments just with the engines and the tools, three weeks were starting to get you, it wasn't easy to travel around and all the pressure that was indirectly hitting you, so you focus all your attention on delivering the car the best you could.

sunday, formation lap

after all, charles didn't ask the team to switch the person who would be on the radio with him the whole race, and despite the fact that you were less smiley you were 100% focused on your job. carlos passed by to say hello to you and went to his car, charles did close to the same thing, the only difference was that he didn't actually said anything, he just hold your shoulder a little bit longer and tighter than the usual. both of the drivers were in their respective cars, the mechanics take away the tires covers and went back to the pit wall. the grid formation was ready, we have max in p1, charles p2 and carlos p3. after the little miscommunication during the qualy, when the lights went off, charles didn't try to overtake max, he held his position, defending the p2 from anyone who tried to steal it away.

y/n had passed pretty much the whole night studying the car and analyzing the reliability on the straights, and her job was successful. despite t

the fact that the race was pretty much a easier way to red bull win because of the amount of straight lines, her job with the balance and aerodynamics of the car were impeccable, y/n alongside with the team put a rocket on track. and when she was leaving the garage last night, she went to both pitstop mechanics and give them a lecture about no fucking things up on race switching and the pitstop (obviously she did it in the most polite way as possible) and she did the same thing with the strategy people, she was working side by side with carlos strategist, and was only because of that that they managed all the pitstops so incredible well.

it was during lap 11 when charles overtaked max the first time, the whole crew went euphoric, so far so good, the car was nice, charles was driving in the highest category. the first pitstop allowed max to recover the p1 one again, but on lap 33, in front the orange army, charles put all again and went p1 again. and another tires switch to the car hold the rest of the race, and again, one last time, on lap 53 charles do it again, the crew went loud, it was only 18 laps to go, just 18 left and we would have two ferrris on the podium. but the thing with ferrari is: your almost never fully happy, carlos car stopped, power unit problem, just whenyou thoughtyou had that fixed, it was a hit in your confidence and the team, the car was on fire and he was still inside of it, the panic started growing inside of y/n chest, only when she saw carlos on the motorcycle going back to the pit she could breathe easily

"is everything ok with carlos?" charles asked on the radio

"positive, he's out of the car and fine. 13 laps to go"

missing 6 laps charles opened the radio again: "there's something wrong with the throttle"

"ok, let me check, hold on" y/n went to all the data and apparently everything was ok, she went back on the radio "charles, something must be holding the throttle, but its not mechanical or electrical, can you keep pushing? 5 more laps to go"

"yeah, I'll try it" and a couple more minutes again "there's something really wrong with the throttle y/n"

"ok, we're checking, keep it cool, i know the car is loosing grip, but 3 more laps, ok?"

"ok"

"stay with me, 2 more laps" y/n kept the updates constantly, she needed to make sure that charles weren't panicking "ok, one more lap to go, hold it"

"im holding it"

"curve 7 now... and 8... getting into the curve 9, one more, charles, just one"

charles passed through the white and black flag, the winning flag

"hey charles, i just want to tell you that's a p1, you did it, p1, charles, p1" you said on the radio

"oh my god, y/n, we did it, oh my god. yesssss, lets gooo", charles were audibly happy.

the whole garage was euphoric, you could see the smiles of relief, the weight leaving everyone's shoulders, after 5 shitty race weekends, charles won. the team went to wait for him close to where he would park his car, and the first thing he did one he left the car was running to the team, the mechanics, the staff, you... he held everyone inside a relief hug that all the sadness and angry left your system, nothing that happened before that moment mattered anymore, not when he was so happy, so in piece with himself.

the team watched the podium and anna came to see you, after all, lewis was there too, and after such stressful moments with the car, he was finally into the pace race.

"you know i know the way you're looking to him" anna wasn't subtle at all

"im looking at him with admiration and that's all"

"sure, y/n, absolutely, i truly believe in you because it not like i know you from 6 years and haven't see you fall for someone"

"annes, its not like were going to be together or something, im here to make the car better and help the team to make him world champion, its not a taylor swift song or a movie about romance"

"damn girl, you've been thinking about it because ot was a really long answer, but whatever you said, if you need me to kick him, I'll do it" she held you by your side and both of you stood there. charles looked so happy, he could barely hold his smile, his was born to be on the highest spot and just like that you realized that you would 100% do everything in your powers to help him - and if means that you have to blow away the red bulls tires, you would.

oh shit, you were really falling for him.

after the ceremony a couple of people went out to celebrate with charles, the mechanics, pierre, and even carlos was there, so when you arrived it wasn't much of a big news, because at the end of the day you were part of the team and you were happy for him. you stopped by some group of mechanics, talked to them for a bit and went to say hi to everyone, you didn't see charles, well, you did, but he was busy drinking shots with pierre so you stayed where you were and kept talking with people, because at the end of the day you were really good at talk to people and that part of you were pushed away bacuse you were too concentrated and focused on your work and worried about not screw over that you locked up that part, and now that every single person in that room were happy you could go back to the version of yourself who is playful and a light of sunshine.

you walk to the boys, taking a look at the empty cups and the happy smiles.

"this is really a celebration, isn't it?"

"there's room to celebrate and im so happy" charles said and he hugged you, an actual hug, and he was wearing some amazing parfum "im glad you came"

"that's a sentence that could be during sex or at a party" gasly gasped after the awful joke he made it

"unfortunately i don't think you can use it referring to the first one" you answered back and carlos and charles high fived each other "im glad im here too, now who's gonna be the one to offer me a drink? a girl need a tequila shot to start the night"

"I'll go, if tequila is what you want, tequila is what you got" carlos tapped the table and point at you, leaving the trio and as soon as he stopped to talk to someone you knew your drink would only arrive an hour later, carlos was what you like to call the congressman from the grid

"that drink is gonna take some time" you said

"you can drink mine, driving fast cars for a living is adrenalin enough" charles said and pushed his cup to you

"thank you, and congratulations again" you drink the content from the cup and took a bite from the lemon slice, charles came closer to you to say:

"im sorry about yesterday, i was angry and annoyed with the team, not with you, im never angry with you and the way i spoke to you was really rude, so im sorry" he said lower than you expected

"that's ok, i got it, seriously, no need to stress over that, and im sorry too, i lost it and i shouldn't have said those things to you either" both of you were so close that you could actually feel his smile when he said "so we're even"

he was flirting with you or it was just the tequila?

pierre made an annoying sound so both of you could pay attention on him, it got your nerves that dude being an aquarius not a leo person, but who were you to say anything?

"lets play truth or dare or two truths and one lie, who got it wrong drink, the champ choose"

"we are back in high school all over again?" you asked after calling a barman and ordering a couple of rounds to the improvised table the three of you were standing

"depends, who were you in high school?" that question was definitely a flirt coming from pierre

"the girl who you would stay away, thats for sure"

"and why is that?" charles asked after drinking another shot

"high school in brazil is pretty different from the us or europe, those were the worst three years of my life, and i was too smart to fall for someone with ocean blue eyes and a cute accent" you clarified

"that's the second time you mention the french accent, do you have a thing for french people?" either charles wanted to ask this or he was starting to get drunk, you gasped when you realized that he was closer than seconds before "truth or dare, y/n?"

"truth" you always pick truth

"is it true that you can steal away anna's recipe for us to have the amount of success that mercedes have?" you and pierre laughed for that one

"i can't, and i wouldn't because im here to do better than her, pierre truth or dare?"

"dare" obviously

"i dare you to tell us why your relationships doesn't work longer than three months or you found someone to kiss in this club" he looked at you, drink a shot and walked away

"he's gonna make you pay for that"

"im ok with that, truth or dare, charles?"

"truth"

"don't you have a girlfriend?" you were dying to know that

"i used to, past tense, but it's over, truth or dare, cherie?" the accent, you knew you would be in serious trouble if the accent keep happening

"dare" you could tell he wasn't expecting that when his eyes locked with yours longer than the usual

"i don't have a dare for that, but considering pierre is back im gonna call for help" you started saying that was unfair but what was the worst thing that could happen? "pierre, give her a dare"

if the devil had a look it would be the one you were receiving that moment

"i dare you to kiss the girl i just kissed"

"what if i don't like girls?" you raised one eyebrow to him

"then I think you gonna have to kiss charles over here" he grabbed his best friend shoulders, charles look straight to you, those green eyes staring deep into yours, what was that heat you were feeling? ok, that's how he wanted to play the game, thats the way it would be.

carlos choose that moment to came with your drinks, you take the first one and drink all of the cup, when was the last time you kissed a girl? you couldn't remember, but you asked anyway "who's is she?" all three of them looked at you at the same time, pierre barely recovered when he pointed to the blond girl a few meters away and you walked in her direction. you tapped her shoulder and got closer to explain to her what was going on and her hand, not ironically, went to rest on your waist, she gave you a not innocent at all smile and leaned closer to you.

you came back to the table only to found pierre holding a bottle of water into his neck and charles looking at you the exactly deep way, you found the nearest couch and sit down, all the alcohol getting into your system got you all happy

"so you do like girls?" the french man asked

"oh i do like girls, i like them a lot" you take the bottle out of his hands and drink it

"do you want to dance?" charles asked you

"yup, but im a terrible dancer" you said and hold his hands, he guide both of you to the dance floor but instead of stopping there he entered one hide hallway

"that's not the dance floor" you said a little confused

"do you swear?" he said with that cute smile "just wanted to take you away from pierre before he actually got invented on flirting with you, and i don't want my best friend with his hands inside my engineer pants, dress, whatever"

"oh, ok, he's ths competition if you want to know, i would never" you emphasized the never

"truth or dare, y/n?" he sustained your look and locked your fingers

"truth"

"kissing me would be so bad that you choose to kiss a random girl?" you think about it and answered his question with another one

"truth or dare, charles?" it was your time to got closer

"you didn't answered my question"

"truth or dare, charles?" you asked again and this time he answered: "truth"

"do you want to show me how monegasque people kiss? considering you're pretty much french and people say that french people have the best kisses-" you were cut out of your sentence when charles grabbed you by your waist and switch positions, you were now with your back in the wall

"im gonna kiss you now, ok?" you nodded and his mouth was on yours, his tongue gently playing with yours, you were expecting something sweet, but when one of his hands went to hold your hair and the one that remained in your waist pulled you closer, deepening the kiss you got it and move your hands to his hair and shoulders, you were craving to scratch those shoulders

charles started to slow the kiss, he let you go just to kiss your jawline and your neck before looking at you again, both of you were breathless

"it was a good kiss?" he yet had the audacity to ask

"it was a really good kiss, can i have another?" you blinked innocently

"yeah, you can" and he leaned back again, the second kiss were less erratic, way more sensual, you were taking the time to know each other, learn how you like it, and jesus christ, charles knew what he was doing, the innocent, cute, two dimples and a little bit dumb chaotic energy was just a facade, that man knew how to push your buttons just with a simple kiss.

later that nigh he drive both of you back to the hotel, after all, he stopped drinking after you arrived and while he was stoned sober you were flushed and red from toes to head. you were staying in the same floor, so when the elevators doors closed he reached your hand, not locking your fingers, just holding your pinkie finger with his, it was ridiculously intimate, but you liked. he walked you to your room door and you lean there

"i don't want to throw a cold shower at you, but this cannot compromised our friendship or our work relationship" you said, actually holding his hand

"i think a good kiss makes wonderful things to a friendship, but I'll keep it professional, you become my favourite engineer and im not letting a couple of hot kisses ruin this. even though i want to ruin you, I'll keep it to myself" he said the last sentence lower and really close to your ear "have a good night, y/n"

"you too charles, I'll see you in a couple of weeks in france and I'm hoping for a tour"

"I'll tour you, just don't mention this to carlos or pierre" he chuckled

"i wont, now you go rest, i need my future champion to beat red bull shit out of them"

"if i knew you were that funny i would have bring you to monaco, but good night and have a safe flight"

"you too" he leaned one last time that day and give you a hug followed by a cheek kiss

you opened your door and closed really fast, before you changed your mind and do something really stupid. when you turn the lights on anna was laying in your bed, a glass of wine in her rand and her cellphone on the other one

"oh my fucking jesus christ, how do you get in here?" your heart were beating ten times faster

"im lewis hamilton engineer, i have privileges, now you better start telling me everything that happened tonight"

"it was a long night- wait, hold on that i think i lost carlos" you just remembered that you haven't seen him in hours and went to your phone

"he's sleeping, isa lecture him for 40 minutes about the process and losing and all of that and he slept, now spill it out"

it would be a really long night, but you sit down and tell everything to anna, and the next day when you got into your flight wearing the ferrari merch you posted something on twitter about the insanities pseudo french people could do. you were hoping thing not to change, you really like to work with ferrari.

"we're the best ones" your phone sound the twitter notification, it was charles response to your tweet.

next part here

it's finally happening our couple, see you after the French GP, hope you take all the tsiwft references

byeeeeeee