#soy formula

[angvlove]

First time posting my drawings lol. Hope u like it^^

(Such a dramatic one but I will not be over these two for a while)

[81buttons]

Nada de “hola” ni de “hello” acá se habla francés “bonjour” 🥖

Y no…TUS RULOS ESTÁN PERFECTOS

Ni se te ocurra cortártelos

[ninii114]

tell me you are a new fan without telling me you are a new fan.

[writerdreamxs]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG ! fearless era.

in which you know a little about me and make requests for short stories to me and I turn your dreams into realities. after all, I am a writer of dreams. 💐

first, introductions: my name is clarice, but you can call me clary.

I'm brazilian, so obviously english is not my first language, so there may be some errors in the imagines.

I love taylor swift (my favorite album is fearless, but I think you get the idea :) and one direction, as well as lana del rey, artic monkeys, among many other artists.

I love romcoms, whether films or books, clichés, sun, spring, roses, dogs and I am a person who really likes to talk.

my mbti is enfp, - at least that's what i think, at the moment! - and I have a sanguine temperament.

and I DON'T write smut.

below I will put a list of the characters and fandoms that I mainly write about, but if you want to request something different, feel free.

masterlist. 🌤️

BRIDGERTON 🐝

colin bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, anthony bridgerton, gregory bridgerton, simon basset.

FORMULA ONE. 🏁

all of the grid, but mainly, lando norris, oscar piastri, george russell and max verstappen.

FOOTBALL PLAYERS ⚽

richarlison, rodrygo goes, jude bellingham, vini jr, pedri, gavi, and all of the real madrid team.

HARRY POTTER (golden era)🪄

harry potter, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, fred and george weasley, ron weasley, oliver wood, charlie weasley.

HARRY POTTER (marauders era) 🕰️

remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, peter pettigrew, regulus black, severus snape.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA 🦁

peter pevensie, edmund pevensie, caspian.

CELEBRITIES 🍾

timothée chalamet, josh hutcherson, louis partridge, andrew garfield, william moseley, tom holland, ben barnes, archie renaux, cameron boyce ✝.

RANDOM 🩷

trodrick heffley, peter parker 1 and 3, matteo balsano, simon alavrez, ramiro ponce, gaston perida, gabo moretti, lorenzo guevara, dede duarte, willy wonka, chad denforth (hsm), will turner (potc) legolas greenleaf (lor), laurie laurence, supa strikas, luke ross (jessie), carmen sandiego characters, zach mitchell (jw), jurassic world: camp cretaceous caracthers, carlos de vil, jay ja'far, harry hook, ray beech, charlie delgado, aurek, jim hawkins, jack frost, ever after high characters, scooby doo characters, hiccup, the greatest showman, dick grayson and wally west (young justice) .

🦋 well, that's it my sweeties and I hope you liked me and send your requests. 💗

WRITERDREAMXS ©, 2024. 📖

[lecxtasy]

just know if you're ever mean to me, this is who you're being mean to:

[whentherewerebicycles]

after finishing his bottle this morning the baby looked at me and said very clearly and distinctly, “MOOOOOO!”

[canuto-wan-kenobi]

I don't have more space in my Iphone's memory sooo I'm gonna left this here: YukiLawson crumbs 🥴🥴💖🩵

[negrowhat]

Lordt the Lactosy is back

[queen-esther]

Friendly tip that baby formula is tightly regulated in the US, so if it’s possible to buy, store brand formula is just as good and nutritious as name brand, AND it’s generally a cheaper price for more quantity! Save your wallets!

[sniffanimal]

Every time I text my mom and ask if she remembers me having any sort of medical issue xyz as a kid she's always like "oh yeah when you were 2 you were diagnosed with Chronic XYZ disease but it wasn't a big deal" like MOTHER. My medical history is important!!!

[watermelinoe]

veggie burgers are so gross

[amirasainz]

Hi queen. Can you please write for little alonso one, where she is still pretty young and mostly hanging out with the spanish speaking drivers (please include Franco♥️) and one of the others accidentally uses a english cuss word in front of her and she repeats it. Thank youuuuu.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💚

La Niña del Paddock

The Formula 1 paddock was always alive with energy, the hum of engines, and the chatter of mechanics filling the air. Today, however, it had an extra spark of excitement. Two-year-old Yn Alonso was in attendance, her tiny form dressed in a summer outfit and her hair in two braids.

Clinging to her father’s hand, Yn looked around the bustling paddock with wide eyes. She was shy, clutching tightly to Fernando's leg every time someone tried to say hello. Not that most of them could converse with her—she only spoke Spanish, and her vocabulary was still that of a toddler.

"Papá, quiero un jugo," she murmured, tugging at his hand. ("Papa, I want juice.")

Fernando crouched to her level, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "Después, mi amor. Ahora papá tiene que trabajar, ¿vale? Carlos te cuidará por un rato." ("Later, my love. Right now, papá has to work, okay? Carlos will look after you for a while.")

Yn pouted but nodded solemnly, her grip loosening as Carlos approached with a big grin. "¡Hola, princesa! ¿Lista para pasar un buen rato con el mejor babysitter del mundo?" ("Hello, princess! Ready to spend some time with the best babysitter in the world?")

Yn tilted her head, studying Carlos. “¿Eres mejor que Papá?” ("Are you better than Papa?")

Carlos laughed, scooping her up. "Por supuesto que no, pero soy el segundo mejor." ("Of course not, but I’m the second best.")

---

Carlos wasn’t alone in his efforts. Franco and Sergio often joined in, creating a small team of Spanish-speaking drivers who adored Yn. Today, as Carlos carried Yn through the paddock, they encountered Checo, who immediately lit up.

"¡Ahí está mi amiga pequeña! ¿Cómo estás, Yn?" ("There’s my little friend! How are you, Yn?")

"Quiero jugo," Yn replied seriously, causing both men to laugh. ("I want juice.")

“Ya veo que sabes lo que quieres,” Checo teased, ruffling her hair. "Ven, vamos a buscar uno." ("I see you know what you want. Come, let’s go find one.")

As they headed to the hospitality area, they ran into Charles, who, while not fluent in Spanish, had picked up a few phrases. He knelt to Yn’s level. "Hola, Yn. ¿Cómo… cómo estás?"

Yn hid her face in Carlos’s shoulder, making Charles frown.

"She is shy," Carlos explained with a shrug. "But you can try."

Charles smiled softly. "¿Quieres… jugo? ¿O… un helado?" ("Do you want… juice? Or… ice cream?")

At the mention of ice cream, Yn peeked out, nodding eagerly. "Helado."

“That was easy!" Charles laughed, standing up and joining the group as they searched for treats.

---

Other drivers began to notice how much time Yn spent with the Spanish-speaking contingent, sparking a mix of amusement and envy.

"Why does she never come to us?" Lando complained to Max, watching as Yn giggled in Franco’s arms.

"Maybe because she doesn’t understand you," Max replied with a smirk.

"But she’s so cute! Look at her little cheeks!” Lando exclaimed. “I want a turn."

“Good luck with that,” Max muttered, though he was secretly curious too.

---

Eventually, Yn’s circle expanded, and she found herself surrounded by other drivers who, despite the language barrier, adored her. George was attempting to teach her a clapping game, while Lewis showed her pictures of his dog Roscoe. Everything was going smoothly until Max stupped his toe and muttered a curse under his breath.

"Fuck," he said, slapping his thigh.

Yn, ever the sponge, tilted her head. "Fuck."

Silence fell over the group. George gasped, and Lewis froze mid-sentence.

"Max," Lando hissed. "What did you just do?"

“It wasn’t my fault!” Max said, panicking. “She’s too quick!”

"Fuck," Yn repeated, smiling as if she’d learned a new toy.

“Nonononono,” Charles said, rushing over. "Yn, don't say that. Es malo. Muy malo." (" It’s bad. Very bad.")

"¿Por qué?" Yn asked innocently, looking up at him. ("Why?")

Checo appeared just in time, his eyes wide as he realized what was happening. "What happened?"

“She heard Max swear,” George explained, flailing his arms.

Checo groaned. "¡Ay no! If Fernando finds out, we're dead."

---

Despite their frantic efforts to distract her with other words, Yn’s new phrase stuck. When Fernando finally returned from his duties, Yn ran to him, arms outstretched.

"¡Papá!"

"¡Mi niña! ¿Te portaste bien?" Fernando asked, lifting her into his arms. ("My girl! Were you well-behaved?")

Yn beamed at him, her tiny voice ringing out. "Fuck!"

Fernando froze. The drivers around them collectively held their breath, some looking ready to bolt.

Then Fernando threw his head back and laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the paddock. "¡Eres toda una Alonso, mi amor!" ("You’re a true Alonso, my love!")

Checo wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. "We're saved…"

Fernando looked at the guilty group, smirking. "But if it happens again, you all will be to blame."

Yn, unaware of the chaos she had caused, snuggled into her father’s chest, content as ever. And the paddock? They had learned their lesson: don’t teach a toddler new words unless you’re ready to face the consequences.

[yeahxsurexokay13]

bragger, lando norris

summary: fans constantly tease yn for always bringing lando up and being a bit of a simp for her boyfriend - which only gets worse after his first f1 win - so she writes a song about how if they were her they'd do the same.

warnings: none i think??? but let me know if i missed any. the song mentioned is 'bragger' by kelsea ballerini!! (((:

IN HONOUR OF LANDO'S VERY FIRST WIN !! 🥇

y/n.updates

Liked by fan22 and 1.340 others

y/n.updates Y/n's interview with WIRED where she answers the web's most searched questions about her is now out! Go give it a watch 😄

view all 208 comments

fan1 she looked painfully beautiful in this

fan2 how was lando in the answer for questions like 'does y/n speak spanish?' or 'is y/n a good singer?' lol

fan7 she said she didn't remember much from high school but knew some words lando had been taught by carlos sainz and that her boyfriend tells her she is... it kind of isn't that weird if u think about it haha

user1 The more I see of her, the more I like her

fan7 i spy with my little eye 1.6K people with no taste

fan3 interview was everything I hoped for and more! she's hilarious and relatable as always

fan4 new drinking game: take a shot every time she mentions lando

fan5 I've watched it like 5 times already lol

fan6 we need a tally for how many times Y/n drops 'Lando' in her interviews. can someone make that happen?

y/n.y/l

Liked by carlossainz55 and 1.890.321 others

y/n.y/l the vibe i bring to the function (ugly crying on facetime) !!! so incredibly happy for you @/landonorris. you did it 🧡🧡🧡

view all 3.501 comments

y/n.y/l also congrats @/oscarpiastri and everyone else at mclaren for an amazing race ((((:

oscarpiastri thank you Y/n! 🧡 ❤️ by author

landofan4 ok this is very cute and nice of her🥺🥺

fan1 ARE YOU STILL CRYING ? BECAUSE I AM DEFINITELY STILL CRYING

y/n.y/l started crying on lap 54 and haven't stopped since

fan2 new post from my fave lando norris fan account yay (also go lando!!!!!!)

user1 Well deserved 👏🏼👏🏼

landofan3 soy lago

y/n.y/l same

lnfour LFGGGG ❤️ by author

fan3 How many times do you think Y/n's going to mention Lando's win in the next week? Taking bets now

maxfewtrell It's the messy hair and smudged mascara for me

y/n.y/l knew i should've gone for the 'perfectly composed while crying' look instead 😔

landofan1 rip lando nowins: 2019-2024 ❤️ by author

landofan2 "you were scared? i wasn't. i was ok (laughs). thank you. i love you" lando 🥹🥹🥹

fan5 when did he say that? omg

landofan2 f1 posted a reel on their profile and you can hear him talking to her!

mclaren LANDO NORRIS IS A FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER 🏆

y/n.y/l I AM SO NOT CALM ABOUT THIS ??!!?

user2 i could've sworn i saw her at the race? why are they facetiming?

fan4 they could barely speak after the win tbh! this is probably a call in between interviews

user2 today's bottle smash hit different ❤️ by author

landonorris I've said this like a million times already today but I love you so much

y/n.y/l i love you i love you i love you i love you

y/n.y/l

Liked by pietra.pilao and 1.809.896 others

y/n.y/l if he was yours, you'd do the same without apologising... new single 'bragger' out now!!!! 💋💋

view all 3.890 comments

fan6 WHAT HAPPENED TO HWLLO ?? HOW ARE YIU ??

y/n.y/l 🫢🫢

fan1 "he's just too damn good not to mention" .....................i mean she is right we'll give that to her ❤️ by author

landofan1 USING THESE SPECIFIC PICS OF LANDO TO ANNOUNCE THE RELEASE OF A SINGLE ABOUT BRAGGING ABOUT HIM IS WILD !!!!

landofan5 that last video is doing things to me.........

landonorris i'm confused does anyone know who this is about?

y/n.y/l no idea 🤷🏽‍♀️ but let me know if you find out xx

landofan4 apparently about some guy named bob?? I'm not sure

fan8 HAHAHA I LOVE THEM

fan2 she really wanted to make sure she'd made her point clear with this dump omfg

fan3 her point: she has a hot bf and we don't

user1 Well played, Y/N. Well played. 🥸

fracisca.cgomes On repeat ❤️❤️

y/n.y/l lindaaaaaaa ❤️

landofan2 knowing all she's saying is about lando makes the song x1000 times better

fan7 so she saw the tweets... 😐

y/n.y/l i saw everything 👀 they were actually hard to miss hahaha

user2 "i understand why you would want him (i don't mind)" queen behaviour !!!!!! 👑👑

fan4 So this is how she gets back at us for all the teasing lol not complaining at all

landofan3 I can't believe this new song is actually inspired by the fans' teasing about Lando!!🤣

fan5 we joked, she delivered!!! bragger is actually a banger👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

[rubywillkins]

Mocha, hazelnut mocha, shot of espresso, almond and soy milk, Bruschetta, beef diced potatoes, Habenaro BBQ shrimp, Potato gnocchi, Ham carbonara, Sparkling water

Ln4 x fem reader pls!

Sure darling ♥️

Lando Norris |

One bed, No exit

Pairing Lando × female reader

Mocha enemies to lover(rival) hazelnut mocha only one bed shot of espresso Rough sex almond milk vaginal sex soya milk oral sex Bruschetta Edging beef diced potatoes "do you need to use your safe word, darling?" Habenaro BBQ shrimp "its my thigh or nothing, I'm not helping you get off" Potato gnocchi "shh, just look at me baby" Ham carbonara "its hot when you talk back" sparking water after care

The Monaco Grand Prix weekend had been as dramatic off the track as it was on. Lando Norris, the quick-witted and perpetually sassy Formula 1 driver, found himself sparring all season with his fiercest rival, Y/n . The two were infamous for their public squabbles, trading sharp words in interviews and pointed glares in the paddock.

That’s why, when Lando arrived at the hotel after a grueling day of practice sessions, the last thing he expected was to find y/n standing at the check-in desk looking equally annoyed.

“What are you doing here?” Lando asked, his British accent laced with mock horror.

“Checking in, obviously,” she snapped, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder.

The receptionist cleared their throat nervously. “I’m terribly sorry, but there’s been a mix-up. We’re fully booked, and… well, the only available room is a double that you’ll have to share.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped. “You must be joking.”

Lando smirked. “Oh, this is rich. Guess the universe loves irony.”

“I’d rather sleep in the pit lane than share with you,” she shot back, her brown eyes blazing.

“And I’d rather sleep on a bed of Pirelli tires, but here we are,” Lando retorted, tossing his bag on his shoulder.

After a lengthy standoff and some heated whispers, they reluctantly agreed to share the room—for one night.

The room was undeniably luxurious, but the centerpiece—a singular king-sized bed—made them both groan in unison.

“Great. Of course, there’s only one bed,” Lando said, flopping onto the mattress dramatically. “Looks like I win the bed lottery.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Get up. I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

Lando propped himself up on his elbows, a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the couch either. So unless you’re planning to arm-wrestle me for it, I guess we’re sharing.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Fine. But stay on your side.”

“Darling, if I cross the invisible line, you have my full permission to smack me,” Lando quipped, winking.

By the time Y/m emerged from the bathroom in her tank top and shorts, Lando was sprawled on his side of the bed, scrolling through his phone with an exaggerated look of disinterest.

“Try not to snore,” he said without looking up.

“Try not to talk in your sleep,” she shot back, sliding under the covers.

“Why would I need to talk? You’d argue with me even in my dreams.”

“Good night, Lando,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Sweet dreams, darling,” he replied, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

The silence stretched as they lay in the dark, neither able to sleep.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Y/n finally said, breaking the stillness.

“Do you ever stop pretending you hate me?” Lando countered, turning to face her.

Y/n blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, smirking. “You’ve been mad at me since day one, but let’s be honest—you don’t hate me. You just hate that I’m better at banter.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh. “Better at banter? You think that’s what this is about?”

“Absolutely,” he said smugly. “And maybe because I look better in a race suit.”

Y/n sat up, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are. Sharing a bed. Life’s funny, isn’t it?”

The corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” he said softly, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more sincere.

She froze, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For the first time, the teasing melted away, leaving something raw and unspoken between them.

It started with a kiss—tentative, questioning—but it quickly spiraled into something far more consuming. Months of biting words and unspoken tension came to a head as they gave in to what they had both been too stubborn to admit.

Lando made you sit on his lap... You both were in lotus position... You were half naked at this point.. and he was just in his boxers..

He both were kissing each other like there is no Tommorow... His one hand on your ass.. pressing your clit and dick... You can feel his alredy hardening dick... It was hot.. I mean he was hot.. you were burning hot..

His another hand unclasped your bra... And than he teared your panty... "Lando what... Did you do? You said a bit annoyed still enjoying the moment and his hand massaging your breast..

"shh, just look at me baby". he removed his boxers and inserted his whole dick in to your pussy... You nearly gasped... "Lando... Argh.."

"put me off..it hurts"..

"its my thigh or nothing, I'm not helping you get off"

He said thursting in to you hard... He was pounding into you like his life deoends in it...

He puts you the bed a bit roughly and inserted into you again this time in missionary..

"do you need to use your safe word, darling?"

He said with a teasing smile on his face more

like smirking...

" yea it's fuck Lando" you said while sinking your nails on his bare back... enjoying the pleasure...

"its hot when you talk back" "but now you have to pay back" he said while pulling his dick from you just when you were about to come... " Lando no... Put it in again.. I need you so bad"

You said pleading for orgasm..he put it again and the whole show starts again... But its lando obviously he won't let you cum again...

"lando stop...just let me cum pls"

"Are you sure? You wanna cum?" He said still in a teasing tone... "Yea..." Even before you could complete the sentence he inserted you.. he started poundinh into you roughly... He was fast very fast.. you were a moaning mess by this time...

"argh... Lando it feels so good"

And finally you came.. but he won't left you so easily.. he licked you...from above to down...every part of you. From head to toe.. from breast to your clit.. like hungry man.. he licked your pussy... And cleaned your cum from his mouth...

And than.. he kissed you again.. this time it was soft and gentle...

Y/n traced lazy circles on Lando’s chest, her mind reeling. The biting arguments, the sharp jabs—they all seemed so distant now, replaced by something softer, something fragile and uncharted.

Lando’s hand slid along her back, his touch light and soothing. “You okay?” he asked softly, his usual sass replaced with genuine concern.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Yeah. I’m… I’m fine.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “You don’t sound convinced.”

Y/n rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “I just… I didn’t think this would ever happen. You and me. It feels… surreal.”

Lando propped himself up on an elbow, his expression serious for once. “Well, surreal or not, I’m glad it did. And I’m not about to let you overthink it.”

He slipped out of bed, grabbing one of the plush hotel robes hanging by the door. “Stay there,” he said, wagging a finger at her when she made a move to sit up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, amused.

“Taking care of you, obviously. Sit tight.”

She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a warm, damp towel and a bottle of water.

Lando perched on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair back as he wiped her skin with the towel. His touch was tender, his usual teasing nature replaced with a quiet focus.

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/n murmured, her voice soft.

“I know,” he replied, grinning. “But I want to. Besides, if I don’t, you’ll probably hold it against me next time we’re on track.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” he quipped, handing her the water.

After making sure she was comfortable, Lando slipped back under the covers, pulling her close. His hand traced gentle patterns along her arm as she rested her head against his chest.

“Lando?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re… not what I expected.”

He smirked, his hand pausing. “Oh, don’t tell me I’ve ruined your image of me as an insufferable idiot.”

Y/n chuckled, nuzzling closer. “A little bit.”

“Good,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep surprising you.”

The tension that had once defined them was gone, replaced by something new. It wasn’t perfect—neither of them were—but for the first time, it didn’t matter.

Lando’s voice was soft as he whispered into the quiet room, “Good night, Y/n”

She smiled against his chest, her fingers lacing with his. “Good night, Lando.”

The rivalry would always be there, but now, it came with something else—a connection neither of them had seen coming, but neither of them could deny.

[strawberrysainz]

racing in the street. charles leclerc.

“ it’s a dream that has surpassed many others in both of your lives. to win the monaco grand prix - it had evaded him for many years. this year felt different. ”

charles leclerc x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive themes.

this is a love letter to his win - years and years in the making. ❤️‍🔥

The first time you had known Charles would win in Monaco one day was when you were both seven, in the back of his dad’s car on the way to a friend’s party.

You had passed Mirabeau, and Charles had pointed out the red and white on the ground as you whizzed past.

“One day if I get to-“

“When,” his father had corrected from the front, and Charles had rolled his eyes playfully.

“-when I get to Formula 1, this is going to be very cool to pass by,”

You had nodded briefly - a seven year old’s attention span could only focus on something abstract for so long - and you had paused. “You can win it, right Cha?”

He had shrugged modestly. It was terribly annoying how modest he had been, even back then.

“You can. You win everything you want to win.” You were certain of this, even so many years ago.

Hervé had laughed loudly and you had blushed crimson.

Charles had smiled then, looking out the window, eyes shining with the hope of it all. The look in his eyes had startled you, one of wisdom only an adult could have.

One day in 2017 Lorenzo called you and Charles had staggered out of the hotel bathroom, face white. He had sat there next to you on the bed.

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I told him a few weeks ago I got to F1. So he would be happy knowing I achieved our dream. And I haven’t.”

Tears burned in your eyes.

He had fallen into your embrace, sobs shaking his whole body.

Standing on the top step in Baku three days later, you had stood there below him, crying, his mother on the phone.

You were eating sushi you’d ordered in at his place a few months later, and he’d had a sneakily happy look on his face the whole day.

“What’s up with you?” You’d said with a mouth full of california roll.

“Sauber is giving me a seat for next year.”

You’d broken a glass jumping up and soy sauce had stained both of your shirts as you screamed.

That first Monaco race day in 2018 had been a magical affair, up until the sixth-last lap, when his brakes had failed, spinning him into Brendan Hartley as they approached the Nouvelle Chicane.

You had winced in the garage, and he’d been dejected when he approached you a few hours afterward.

You’d thought of that day passing Mirabeau when you saw him. “Was it as cool as you thought doing it in F1?” You’d said quietly.

Tears had shone in his eyes. “I got to race it. Dad knew I could race it in F1.”

You had nearly choked months later when he’d told you over a glass of wine dipping your toes in the sea that he’d been called by Ferrari.

Shivers had run through you as you thought of Jules, and of Hervé. All they all had ever wanted.

“You know, your dad would have not been prouder. He would have dragged you to Rampoldi to celebrate.”

“Shall we go?” He had asked, and you’d both made the trip back to Monte-Carlo and when you phoned the restaurant in the back of the Uber, they’d said it was full with a little bit of regret.

But when they’d heard Charles was going to be there - oh, they’d all loved him from the beginning - they’d gotten a table for you both near closing time, when everyone was dispersing.

You’d both laughed and cried over the plates of his dad’s favourite ravioli.

Monaco had felt different in 2019, more eyes on him.

He’d started P15. Then on lap 16 - the irony - his puncture due to contact had called him back to the garage.

Pure grief had decorated his face as he got out of the car, shaking his head. Finding you after the Grand Prix, you saw the light dimming from his eyes and gave him the biggest hug you could.

That night you’d both cycled back to his place and sat all night in his kitchen, the dim light doing little to hide his sadness.

2021 was even worse; he’d had no chance to even start, and this time he was angry.

You hadn’t even seen him and had gone to bed when he called up at 2am, drunk, asking for a lift home.

You had gone in your pajama shorts and glasses, and he had sat in the back seat and asked why he always had worser luck here than anywhere else.

You didn’t really have an answer. “I just know one day it’s going to work out for you,” you said softly.

2022 had been spent in his friend’s apartment, watching from their balcony with a cocktail in hand, watching his girlfriend smile on the television.

You’d watched on as disaster had struck, Ferrari making an awful call, sacrificing his P1 for a measly P4.

You’d seen him two days later, out for breakfast, and he had just sighed. “Fucking stupid,” he’d murmured. “I think we have to accept I might never get this.”

That belief of your seven year old self was still strong, cemented in your soul when you shook your head.

In 2023, he’d just been annoyed at sixth place once he came back from the stewards. You’d left the paddock and he’d just gone home, bidding you a good night. As you walked to your apartment, you’d thought of all the nights as teenagers racing on bicycles in the streets.

Monaco would love him back as much as he did it one day. You knew it - deep down, he knew it too.

Well, Saturday in Monaco this year had felt different. He’d oozed confidence all weekend. And you felt different about him.

After he’d broken up with his girlfriend, all you’d been thinking about was him. He had been making unnecessary trips to see you, inviting you to more races than usual.

It had culminated a few months ago in Miami, where things were just different; he had come on the podium, and you had kissed his cheek when you saw him an hour later. You swore he almost moved his face to meet your lips.

You’d both spent the night partying with Lando, the drinks making you both different, dancing sensually, eyes dark. He had kissed your neck, and you’d both realised what the hell you were doing, moving back.

The next time you saw him you both pretended it had never happened.

You hadn’t seen him again until last Sunday, at your place. He’d come for your birthday dinner, handing you a present and flowers with two kisses to your cheeks. You’d blushed amongst all your friends, champagne flowing.

On Wednesday night after a long day of press, he’d come over again. “I have a feeling about the race this year.” You nodded, silently inviting him to expand.

“It feels different. Like I can definitely do it.”

You smiled. “I know you can do it. And you’ve been really strong this year.”

“I was cycling last month through Mirabeau and I really remembered one day when we were walking around there or driving when we were young and you told me you knew I could win.”

“It was when we were driving with your dad.” He’d let out a little sigh.

“I can do it this year for him. And me and Jules and you.”

You’d gotten emotional all of sudden. “I know you can do it, Cha. I’ve always known.”

He hugged you, his body soft and warm against yours in the dark room. You’d wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Well, he’d got on pole on Saturday, reinforcing his determination and confidence. You’d seen how calm and collected he looked and it had been noticed by nearly everyone. You’d given him a fist bump and he’d grabbed you, hugging you, the smell of his sweat a testament to how badly he wanted it.

You’d gone home after a dinner with the Leclercs (minus him, he had sponsorship engagements to fulfill) and there was the quiet knowledge amongst all of them that this was the year.

Your mom had phoned on Sunday morning, and you spoke about your lives, then about Charles. “I hope he knows how loved he is by all of us. And I know Hervé and Jules are watching on today with the utmost pride.”

You nodded. “I think he does know, mama.”

You had picked out a red dress, short and flowing to accommodate the welcome heat. As you did your makeup, you thought of all the years that had come before, previous versions of yourself that had wanted him so badly to win.

The entire race you’d had stubborn tears in your eyes, blurring your vision. The last two laps you could barely look, too emotional at the thought of even seeing this happen.

Joris had gently guided you up to look again in the room and you just knew Charles was crying too on that last lap. The thought of the little boy in the car staring out at these streets made you wonder how he must be feeling.

All these years of this dream.

He had crossed the finish line and you had erupted into tears, turning into Lorenzo’s chest to take a breath. Later, you’d seen the camera footage of your teary eyes and the glimmer of hope in them as you looked back.

Then everyone had run down to the podium and you were in the second row, all of his team in the front. You saw him jump in slow motion into the air from his car and saw the joy in his steps.

He had jumped into the roar, and didn’t manage to see you but you could tell he was looking. Then he’d done the post race interview and him talking about his dad made you burst out crying again.

Someone had found you and dragged you to the front of the barrier underneath the podium. You must have looked awful. As he walked to the cool down room he cast a look back and your eyes caught his for a fraction of a second before he disappeared.

You had used the five minutes to take big deep breaths, multiple hands grasping you.

Then he’d walked out onto the podium and you saw how Prince Albert had gripped him like a son, tears in his own eyes. And Charles had held up his flag, full of hopes and dreams.

And then you all sang the anthems and then he was given the trophy and you were taking videos and photos as if in a dream.

He’d not seen you again, scanning, but gave up when the attentions of everyone else were cast on him.

You hadn’t caught sight of him again until you were hanging around in the paddock, wondering. Your phone rang and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hello?”

He was breathless and you couldn’t hear him, really, over the sound of the wind.

“Wh-“

“I’m cycling home…”

You had snorted. “Alone?”

“Yeah.”

You had paused.

“I wanted to just think of all the years and moments I raced and rode these streets and prayed I would win here one day. It felt right.”

You had laughed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah… meet me at home? Then we go out?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He ended the call. You saw videos of him on TikTok later on the bike on speakerphone and he had grinned as the people drove past him.

You had stopped at your place first, freshening up, and grabbed a bag and a power bank and downed a shot of vodka (to ease the nerves). Putting on heels with the red dress this time, you ordered an Uber to his place. You had used your key to get in and music was blaring when you opened the door. He was shirtless, trying to find an appropriate one.

“Hi,” you smiled.

He had forgotten what he was doing to basically run over and hug you, the force of it nearly knocking you over.

You were in tears again when he pulled away. “Love you,” you whispered, and he smiled. “I’m so proud. I keep thinking of little you.”

“I could never be here without you throughout the years. Never. You have picked me up and glued me back together so many times.”

You let out a small sound of emotion.

“I thought so much of all of you the last laps. I couldn’t see I was so emotional.” He laughed.

“And just all the times you told me you just knew I could do it. And my dad. And Jules. And my mom and brothers. Oh, I want to cry even now!”

You laughed as he ran back to his room to get a shirt.

“But-” he called from the room- “now we have to party like crazy!”

The next morning, you woke up at Arthur’s apartment with a pounding headache and a few missed calls and texts.

Charles 🕺 4:37

Let me know if you got back okay?

Charles 🕺 5:13

I think I’m going home now

Charles 🕺 10:52

I’m going to come pick you up I think Arthur won’t wake until 3pm

You checked the time. 11:04. Getting up from the couch and groaning, you went to the bathroom and pulled your hair into a ponytail, trying to wipe the makeup and finding a disposable toothbrush in his drawer to brush your teeth and the stale smell of tequila away.

You heard his car horn outside and you pulled on your heels that had been thrown on the ground a few meters from the couch. Leaving and letting the door close quietly you walked down the stairs, wincing at every loud noise your high heels made.

He was in his car and thank God there was no one around because you looked crazy. “Hiii,” you said, and he handed you a pair of sunglasses you thought you lost (but clearly just left in his car).

“How’s the race winner doing?” You said, and slid into the seat.

“Incredible,” he said dramatically and his voice was raspy, nearly gone. You laughed and then grasped your head.

Coming out of your bedroom with your hair wrapped in a towel and a crop top and sweatpants, he was making coffee for you both. Finding leftover pasta from Saturday night that Pascale had sent you home with, you heated it up and offered him some. He shook his head.

When you turned around from the microwave with the pasta in hand, he kissed you.

Your eyes widened. He set down the pasta, not breaking the kiss, and hoisted you onto the kitchen counter. You let him open you up, your body leaning into his. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hand rested underneath your shirt.

“You make me feel so lucky,” he whispered.

Your mouth fell open slightly. “Well, you deserve all of it.”

He did. He did.

omg i just started crying over this stupid fic for the third time. i feel like this encompasses all i feel for him. i hope you feel it. ❤️‍🔥