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formulawolff · 4 months

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ii. "think about my offer" - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, eventual smut, drug & alcohol usage, power imbalances, age gap relationships, flirting, banter, yearning, use of fic tropes, yadayadayada the works

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sypnosis: with the second grand prix of the season well on its way, there is a lot at stake. not only with the race, but other matters as well.

darkness creeps into the motorhome, the lights of the team motorhomes and paddocks illuminating the space. all around you, everything was brushed with a soft white glow.

his fingers remain under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. in the dim light, you can barely make out the glint swimming in his depths. what was it? desperation? anticipation? you weren’t sure.

toto was a complex man. you were well aware of that.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

there were days where you would see him glowering around the mercedes paddock, engaged in heated exchanges with engineers. there were moments where you would watch a glimpse of his radiant grin, dimples and all, as mercedes would successfully place or land a podium. of course you had heard the stories about him and his outbursts. his mood seemed to change in a matter of seconds, especially these days.

well, could you really blame him?

mercedes had dominated the world of formula one for so long. with lewis hamilton earning eight world championships, breaking barriers and records along the way, mercedes was the top team. it was a team many drivers dreamed of racing for. when you entered the world of formula one, you could barely get one foot in without hearing the word mercedes or the name lewis hamilton.

that was until redbull had entered the picture in 2022.

now, they were struggling to even maintain second place. hell, there were some races where the team would barely make finish without crashing a car. or suffering from a malfunction.

mercedes was no longer the team. they were on the same level to ferrari and mclaren, fighting tooth and nail for those second and third spots on the podiums.

additionally, you couldn’t help but face the glaring facts. lewis hamilton was leaving mercedes once the 2024 season was complete. their integral driver, the one who had earned them their reputation, their titles, was making an exit.

was there something behind that? something more than the speculations and gossip?

however, you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath.

“why do you want me on mercedes? these days i feel more like a liability to my team than an asset. i’m sure you just saw the spectacle in the press room.”

“because you’re an inspiration,” the notes in his tone are gentle, “you have inspired so many women to pursue their passions in the world of formula one. not just in terms of racing, but for mechanics, engineers, journalists. you have encouraged so many people to do what they love. you are confident. you know your talents and you utilize them. you have so much fucking potential and it makes me so irrationally angry that james does not see that.”

brows furrowing, your hand grasps toto’s wrist, pulling it away from your face, “does this have something to do with james? it’s common knowledge that you like to hold grudges, toto.”

the principal coughs slightly, “that may have something to do with it.”

“then my answer is no,” venom oozes out of your words, “i’m not some pawn to be used as a ‘fuck you’ to james for leaving mercedes. i’m not taking any part in that. i’m going to need you to leave.”

“that’s fine,” toto nods, responding coolly, “i figured you’d react this way. you are extremely close with james.”

“well no shit,” you mutter, pointing towards the door, “mr. wolff, i am going to ask you kindly once again. please leave.”

“i will,” placing a hand on your shoulder, toto locks eyes with you once more, “think about my deal, little dove. in the meantime, i’ll be waiting.”

“waiting for what?”

“if you’ll accept my deal,” his thumb massages along your collarbone, “you didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no. i can tell you’re considering it.”

“you’re stubborn,” you retaliate, yet the pressure along your collarbone is relieving, the sore muscles relaxing, “they weren’t wrong about that.”

“i am quite the stubborn man, schatz,” toto can sense your exterior crumbling as his hand glides towards your shoulder blade, massaging gently.

“i know you’re manipulating me with your extremely good looks and nice hands.”

“and yet,” toto’s voice is low and he leans in, mouth hovering by your ear, “you’re falling for it.”

“are you flirting with me, toto wolff?”

“maybe i am,” his breath fans against your ear as his hand delves lower, fingertips brushing along your ribcage, “it seems to be working. look at you, nearly crumpling to your knees at my touch. how long has it been since a man has touched you like this, schatz?”

it takes everything in you not to let out a groan as his hand rests on the small of your back, “y-you need to leave.”

“i will this time,” he murmurs, “but consider my offer, little dove.”

a vibration on the countertop interrupts the principal. snapping out of your trance, you pluck your phone, the illuminated screen notifying you that you had a couple of missed calls, and numerous text messages.

one particularly caught your eye.

it was daniel.

i’m going to be on my way in five. i hope you’re okay. i know you probably don’t want to talk about the press conference very much, but we can just cuddle or something.

“oh fuck.”

toto towers over you, eyes scanning over your phone, “i take it that is my cue to leave.”

“your cue to leave was fifteen minutes ago,” your tone is dry, yet he cracks a smile.

“i hope you know i’m going to keep pestering you until you give me an answer. have a good night, little dove. i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“sure,” you respond. placing two hands on his back, you give him a small push, “you need to go before daniel thinks something weird is going on.”

“is he your boyfriend or something?” toto obliges to your action, the austrian beginning to stroll towards the door of the motorhome.

for him, the exit was merely a few strides. but fuck, was he sticking around. daniel was going to be there in a matter of seconds. who knew what would happen if they happened to cross paths.

similar to toto, daniel was not one to let things go.

“no!” you snap, “leaaaavveee!”

“fine, fine,” toto huffs, “think about my offer, schatz. i will see you around.”

as the principal slides out of the door, you bring a hand to your temple, massaging it.

what the actual fuck just happened?

seconds later, a series of knocks breaks the silence.

“come in!”

daniel peeks his head in, concern painting his features as he notices your state, “why are you still in your suit?”

shrugging you point to your phone, “i was in the middle of an intense phone call when you texted.”

“ah,” he opens the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bag in the other, “i brought food, if that’s all right? i figured you would need some after that prick grilled you in the press room.”

“can we talk about something else?” you groan, crossing over to the couch. you flop on it dramatically, earning a laugh from daniel.

“we could talk about how max adores you. i think kelly has some competition.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you lift your head up, fighting a smile as daniel pulls a series of parcels from the bag, “what did you get?”

“something i knew the american would like,” he teases, ripping open a few wrappers, “a classic cheeseburger with fries. i hope they’re not soggy. i ordered it plain since i know how you are about condiments.”

“no shake with that?” you giggle, sitting up. wrapping your arms around daniel, you bury your head into his shoulder, “it’s a been a fucking day, let me tell you.”

“yeah?” he stuffs a fry in his mouth, “tell me about it.”

“well,” you’re tempted to spill every single detail about what just occurred merely minutes ago. however, as daniel’s gaze meets yours, you hesitate, “i’m concerned about my future with williams.”

“why do you say that?” his eyes narrow, brow furrowing, “you’ve never said anything like that till now. did something happen on the way back from the press conference?”

“no, no, no,” you respond a little too quickly, “i just – i don’t know. you of all people know how quickly things change in this environment and–”

“hey,” daniel lays a hand on your thigh, “i think you need some rest. you’ve had a real fucking busy day. we can talk about your future plans in the morning.”

“but what if i want to talk about them now?”

“you of all people know that i am not one to tell people what to do or how to live their lives,” daniel’s eyes harden, the words stern, “but you need to decompress. take your mind off racing for a minute. your life is not all about racing. you need to take care of yourself too.”

“i know,” you allow him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close, “it’s too much to think about sometimes.”

“tell me about it,” daniel places a peck on your temple as you nestle your head into his collarbone, “how about we eat, and maybe we can talk about it later?”

“sounds like a plan to me,” you nod, “hey, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?”

reaching for a box of fries, you fiddle with it, “are there speculations that we’re dating?”

“how do you think that went?”

james is to your right, tablet in hand. absentmindedly, you fiddle with the visor on your helmet, “all right.”

“just all right?” james queries, “you have pole position for tomorrow and you think that went just all right?”

“well,” you shrug, “we all know that max is going to overtake me, so i can’t be too hopeful.”

“such a pessimist,” james chuckles, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you don’t seem like you’re quite here today. i don’t want to press, but is something on your mind? you know you can tell me, right?”

there was quite a lot on your mind, actually.

in the days following the bahrain grand prix, it was almost as if your mind was a torrent of anxiety, fear, and numerous emotions. there were too many to decipher, constantly overwhelming you, distracting you from the matter at hand.

although you felt like you weren’t quite on this planet, you somehow managed to breeze past max in qualifying. it was only by hundredths of seconds, but it was a victory nonetheless. charles leclerc was behind max in the third position on the grid. alex was twelfth, which was not great but not terrible.

the encounter with toto was ever-present, consuming your thoughts whole. part of you wanted to confess the entire situation to james, but you knew that you had to keep it to yourself. this was no time to stir up any drama or rivalry between the two principals.

you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand drifted, how his voice shifted when he spoke to you. it was a far contrast from the way he spoke in interviews or to his drivers. it was rich yet husky, brimming with lust. there were gentle notes inflected in it as well, almost if he was admiring you. it was reminiscent of how one would speak of their favorite piece of artwork, or their most prized possession.

from his point of view, were you really a prize to be won? were you really that important? or were you the latter?

were you simply a pawn in his game?

the way he looked at you told you a different story.

there was no calculation. no coldness. there was no trace of the hardened, steely gaze he usually presented to his peers, to journalists, and to the general public.

there was simply a softness. as if you were one of his weak spots. you could remember him looking at you hungrily, as if he was taking in every single detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

since the encounter in your motorhome, you had only bumped into the principal twice. once was on your entrance to the paddocks with james, where you exchanged formal greetings. the other was after the last practice session, where he congratulated you for your time, wishing you luck in qualifying.

the most odd aspect of it all was that you could count the number of exchanges you had with the principal on your fingers. most of it was formalities, either with the press lurking around, or when you attended events. there were no personal meetings before. it was all business or related to racing.

so he truly meant it when he had mentioned he had his eye on you for a while.

the only thing you could remember was an afterparty after the monaco grand prix in 2023. although max had won the race, both lewis and george had placed fourth and fifth. those were significant placements, especially on a track like monaco. you had placed eleventh, which was pretty monumental at the time.

around four a.m. at the afterparty, toto approached you. his face was flushed, cheeks tinged nearly crimson from the alcohol. the scent lingered on his breath, his hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. yet he was still utterly gorgeous, offering you a brilliant smile.

“i didn’t think the golden girl of formula one would make an appearance!”

“golden girl?”

“well of course,” he nodded fervently, the words slurred ever so slightly, “you shine like the sun. so that means you’re a golden girl!”

“mr. wolff,” your laughter was like bells, ringing so beautifully in the principals’ ears, “i think you’re pretty drunk.”

“let’s get a drink or two together. then you can really see that i’m not the big bad wolf.”

you ended up declining his offer, but he didn’t persist, leaving you to join daniel, lando, and oscar on the dancefloor. your heart was racing, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the pounding bass or alcohol consumption.

it was due to the fact that you had a tiny crush on the principal.

ever since you had sat behind the wheel of a race car, you were attracted to the principal. in your teenage years, you had dreamed of racing for mercedes, under the wing of toto. you swooned whenever you logged onto tumblr and read fanfics. you were nearly breathless every time you saw him pop up on your youtube feed.

fuck, even when you watched drive to survive on netflix, you couldn’t help but catch yourself rewinding back to the interviews with toto.

so when he offered to buy you a drink or two in monaco, you had to bite your tongue to say yes. when he entered your motorhome and had you pinned against the counter, you were a little weak in the knees. when he used little dove or schatz, it did leave your heart skipping a beat.

since that moment in monaco, things had been strictly professional. now, that line was starting to blur thanks to the motorhome incident. every time you noticed the principal, you could sense the tension in the air. it clouded nearly everything, thick and electric, sending a shiver down your spine every time the two of you locked eyes.

there was no doubt that the team principal was breathtaking. yet, he was almost thirty years older than you. additionally, you couldn’t help but think about the way the entire formula one world would react the moment they caught wind of mr. wolff and the american girl. the horrible treatment from the media would only skyrocket.

there was also the other elephant in the room.

after you asked daniel whether or not there were speculations the two of you were dating, he distanced himself. although he had said no, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted the world to think the two of you were together.

before, the two of you were almost inseparable. after alex, he was the first driver to welcome you to the world of formula one with open arms, often encouraging you, offering advice, and defending your name tirelessly. he was constantly reposting videos of you all over his social media, captioning them along the lines of, “look at my american girl go!” or “go best friend, that’s my best friend!”

of course, there were little rumors swirling around on social media that the two of you were an item. fans often made edits of the two of you, saying things like, “they’ll never tell us they’re dating but in my head they’re together” or “that aussie boy loves his american girl <3”

now, you found yourself distracted. too distracted. between the whole toto debacle, questioning your loyalty to williams, the benefits of joining mercedes, and daniel leaving you out high and dry, you were a mess.

a hot mess, at the very least.

to make matters worse, tomorrow was the biggest race of your season. if not, the biggest race of your life.

and god only knew what tomorrow was going to bring.

thank you so much for reading! let me know if you would like to be tagged! <3 this is going to be a multi-chapter series so buckle up y'all. it's about to get juicy!

#f1 #formula 1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n #daniel ricciardo #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #george russell

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doromoni · 2 months

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The Tip Off | MV1 , LN4

Off Time : A Spin Off (Max’s Pov)

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Presenter! Reader, Lando Norris x F1 Presenter Reader

Genre : Angst

Subtags : Unrequited Love, Untold Feelings,

A/N : SURPRISE! bet you didn’t expect this huh? 🤭 pls do let me know your thoughts. Also, I’m sorry in advance 🥹🙏

Summary : Off Time - retold in Max’s perspective

Masterlist

Series : Off Time , On the Defence , Playing Offense

Max couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he started seeing Y/N L/N in a new and different light. Max always saw you around but he didn’t exactly pay attention to your presence. But now? he was hyper-aware whenever you were near or when someone said your name.

Max knew that nursing feelings for you was not smart, not at all. Everyone knew that you were Lando’s girl — even when Lando himself gave you no time of the day. Even more so he, himself was in a serious long-term relationship!

Maybe it all started a year back when the rain had been pouring in Silverstone and you were stuck in the Red Bull motorhome after your one-on-one interview together.

Everything was all smiles and the mood was cozy and warm, the two of you were just lounging waiting for the rain to subside. Till suddenly you looked at your phone, and your smile fell.

Max was about to ask what was wrong when you suddenly stood up, held his hand and pulled him up from the couch.

“Max come play in the rain with me” Max was taken aback. Not by your request, but by the amount of emotions that filled your eyes. It held pain, but your smile held courage and bravery.

To Max, you looked dazzling. He admired the strength you held. A strength that he wished he had when he was still a young boy.

Max indulged your craziness. As the two of you stepped out into the rain and the water soaked you both, Max couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your arms were spread wide as you ran circles around Max, then suddenly stopped and squatted down. It reminded Max of the ducks from his childhood; one of the few good memories he had then.

“What are you doing Little Duck?” Max couldn’t help but ask as he squatted down beside you. People were looking at the two of you weirdly — but that didn’t matter.

“ Max, would you date me?” Your question stirred something in Max. He knew that he shouldn’t entertain such questions or thoughts, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Max asked carefully examining you, while you still stared at the ground.

“Hypothetically, would you date me?” You asked again, now looking deep into his eyes.

“Never mind, don’t answer that”

Max was thankful that you cut him before he could answer because it scared him how much the answer was an astounding “YES”.

You suddenly stood up and looked up at the sky— feeling the rain pelting down on your face. Smiling at nothing in particular.

Max was once again mesmerized at the sight of you. His heart beating faster as you gazed down at him and offered your hand for him to hold.

“Thank you, Max… I needed this” You thanked the Dutch.

“Always, Y/N. Always” Max smiled back and it was now his turn to pull you back into the Motorhome — where soft and warm towels were waiting for you.

Or maybe it was during the FIA gala when you both came dateless. Max without Kelly because she was off on a photoshoot in Milan, and you… well, you were hopeful that Lando would’ve asked you.

Max saw you gazing at Lando and the date that he came with; you looked like a kicked puppy as you tried to smile through the pain.

Max knew that he needed to do something and take your pain away. Max stood from his seat and went to you. People were once again giving lingering glances at the man of the night, The year’s World Champion who was looking determined as he pushed past the crowd.

When Max offered you a hand, your eyes drifted up to meet his. Your eyes were glazed with unshed tears and your brows scrunching up with confusion. Max only smiled and offered his hand once more, which you reluctantly took.

He led you to the middle of the room, as the live orchestra started playing “I See the Light”

Max saw how your eyes shone as you recognized the song. A soft smile gracing your face as the two of you swayed together to the beat as Max held you gently.

“Thank you, Max. Really” You whispered as your head tilted up to look into the blue eyes of the driver.

Max was awestruck with you. Your dress made you look even more beautiful under the dimmed lights. You were an angel sent amongst mere mortals here.

“ He doesn’t deserve you” Max had suddenly voiced out, surprising you both. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but he did and Max stands by what he said.

“I-, I know, but I can’t help it you know?” You said as you gazed at Lando once more. Max felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut, but paying it no mind as he focused on you. Only on you

Max then twirled you out and back to him, successfully distracting you from the British driver.

Max Verstappen knew that what he was doing was dangerous and he was asking for heartache — it was clear as day where your heart lay. But he did not care because having you in his arms now was more than enough.

The night ended with Max dropping you off at your hotel door. You gave him one last smile, bid him goodbye and thanked him for everything — then laying a peck on his cheek. It was meant to be friendly— but to Max that was a sign that he needed to confirm to himself. Max Verstappen had fallen for you.

Max’s drive back to his hotel had him all over his thoughts. He needed to end things off with Kelly— it wasn’t fair for her when Max knew that someone else held his heart.

And break up with her, he did. But not before the news of his dance with you during the gala caught Kelly’s ears. She was furious, but she saw it coming … she did know Max; their years together allowed her that. Kelly knew that she was losing him even before Max knew himself.

Even then when Max was free to pursue whoever he liked, he chose to wait for you. Max had hope that you’d give up on Lando. Yet he would never pressure you to move on from the British driver who was also Max’s closest mate on the grid. Because it was your happiness that was the most important.

But Max was only patient when it came to you. When it came to other matters — Max was his usual assertive and hardheaded self. If he can’t rush you… he had other ways.

“Mate, are you not interested in Y/N?” Max quizzed Lando.

“Even you mate?? Why does everyone ask me that? No, I don’t like Y/N. I’m seeing someone else. Happy?” Lando could only shake his head in denial.

Happy? Indeed Max was happy. Lando was out of the picture and it was only up to Y/N. And the heavens had heard Max’s prayers— when Y/N had then started to distance herself from Lando.

Yet that only lasted for a while, because just like the rest of humanity — Lando finally saw Y/N in the same light that Max saw her.

Max knew that Lando was still the same person he knew, he was still one of his best mates— but Max couldn’t help but hold grudges against him.

Lando had now started being possessive with you— as if he owned you. It was as if the past where he didn’t care for you was erased into nothingness. Max remembered every tear you shed for the British driver.

Yet, Max’s heart was set on whatever you decided. You held his heart even though you didn’t know. It was yours to crush. Max was ready for you to break his heart into pieces just as much as you’d like.

And break it you did, even if you weren’t aware that you did — Max’s heart broke nonetheless.

You were late for your interview with Him and Checo. Although it has only been minutes, Max was worried about you; much so that he looked for you himself.

And there you were, In front of McLaren’s Motorhome. Max felt his heart crack — but he smiled nonetheless as he went near you.

“What are you doing, little duck??” Max asked. But he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I came looking for you, dummy! you’re late. What are you doing here just standing” Max lowered his head by bending his waist— leveling his eye with yours.

Max pretended to act dumb for a second, as he glanced at the glaringly orange motorhome.

No matter how much control Max had, he was just a man whose frustration was impossible to avoid.

“Oh, I see. It’s Lando again. Oh…Y/N. I wished you weren’t this blind. Others’d love to have you” Max muttered — it appeared that you didn’t hear the last part that he said. Max wasn’t sure to be thankful or annoyed.

“ What?? speak up, dude! I don’t know how Kelly puts up with you.” You asked. Max felt like he was punched in the stomach. Not from hearing the name of his Ex — but at your lack of awareness. Here he was offering you his heart, and there you were thinking that he was committed to someone else.

“Y/N. Kelly and I broke up months ago.” Max could only say; as he forced his face to put up a casual facade — and it came easily from the years of practice he had.

“What?! how?! why?!” You could only ask startled by the revelation.

BECAUSE OF YOU! Y/N L/N. YOU! FUCKING HELL, I LOVE YOU! Max wished he could scream it to the world. Max wished that he could scream it to you.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said “Never mind that you nosy little thing. We’re late!” and he pulled you in the direction of their motorhome.

Apparently, Lando wasn’t as ignorant of Max’s feelings towards you.

“Mate, do you like Y/N?” Lando asked without any added words.

“Yes, I do” Max replied directly to Lando not holding anything back.

“What?? What the fuck Max… how could you?! I love her!! I was here first” Lando was suddenly all up in Max’s space - demanding an explanation.

Max could only scoff as he pushed the McLaren driver off of him and away from his space. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

“ Bullshit! you were only there because you were afraid that someone else wanted her!” Max exploded, as the memories of you crying because of the man in front of him.

Lando was speechless for some time; he knew to himself that was true. He only saw you when he lost you.

“ That may be true, but I love her now! and she loves me. You and I know it! Don’t make things harder for Y/N, don’t make her choose … because I’m not backing down.” Lando shouted his monologue then left right after — not even waiting for a reply from the Dutch Driver.

Max knew that his love for you was true and he couldn’t bear for you to be in pain. So if choosing between Him and Lando would do that — he was willing to give the chance up just to see you smile even if it wasn’t with him.

Max says that, but he didn’t expect just how much it hurts to see from afar. Max saw everything and he couldn’t look away because even if you were with Lando … at least he could still see you happy. Even if it wasn’t him who made you smile.

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viennakarma · 1 year

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Satisfaction [Part 1]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read

Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).

Find me on Twitter!

You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.

“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”

“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.

Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.

“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.

“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.

Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.

Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.

As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.

"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”

“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”

The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.

You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.

“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.

“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.

“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"

II.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.

“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.

You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.

“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”

You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.

By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.

“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”

“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.

“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.

“Is our session done?” he insisted.

“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.

You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.

Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.

You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.

You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.

III.

“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.

“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.

“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.

“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”

“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”

You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.

“No, you can’t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.

“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.

“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”

You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.

IV.

“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.

“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.

“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.

“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.

“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.

“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.

That would make two of you.

This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.

As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.

Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.

He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.

“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.

“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.

“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”

Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.

“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.

“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”

Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.

“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”

Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.

He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.”

[Part 2]

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one

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astonmartingf · 3 months

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NOT MY FAULT ; FA14

dbf!fernando alonso x ex-red bull engineer! reader . . . if there are many fish in the ocean then fernando alonso is a catch, and it's not your fault if you fell for his hook, line, and sinker.

amgf a lot of appearances from other drivers, an actual plot! allusions to toxic work environment, red bull drama, the math is not mathing but okay. enjoy!!! thank you for still being here pwahaha it's been a while lbh but i hope you enjoy it like always!!!! wchagt update soon along with other wips <3

The only good thing that came out of your mother remarrying was the new found relationship you built with your step father, granted it took a while to get there- you first met him he was twice your age and dating your mother. Growing up you spent your formative years in the Red Bull garage answering math equations with Adrian Newey behind you, Sebastian Vettel laughing as Newey hands you a different worksheet after another.

It was an unusual dynamic, you mother 13 years older than your stepfather, being friends with your stepfather’s rival and teammate, it was unlike any other, but something you wouldn’t replace for the world.

“Is it true you’re leaving Red Bull?” You were greeted with an over enthusiastic Oscar Piastri as you visited the McLaren motorhome using Mark’s pass. Your lip presses into a thin line, brows raised with a shrug from both shoulders leaving the younger groaning in frustration.

“I’m taking your silence as admission, also entering a McLaren motorhome on a race weekend? Seems like they finally fired you, it’s giving jobless.”

You roll your eyes, “This is a motorhome Osc, not your garage, I doubt they’d be hiding any of your data here, not like they’re secrets to me. Also they didn’t fire me, technically I was the one firing them since I will be leaving the team.”

“So you are leaving Red Bull.” Oscar deadpans, while you hiss as your tongue slipped faster than the thoughts in your head. You just promised yourself you won’t tell anything to anyone before you discussed it with your stepfather.

Arms crossed to your chest, you face Oscar with the biggest smirk plastered on his face, proud for taunting you out on revealing your plans for the next seasons. “Well now that you know, I personally would like it if you kept your mouth shut. Mark doesn’t know yet and I plan to tell him before finalizing the contracts.”

Raising his hands with a small nod, Oscar moves leading the way to his quarters where you find your stepfather. “You’re free?” Mark looks up from the files in front of him glancing back and forth from you and Oscar. “Are you two in trouble?”

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “No, why do you immediately think that? I for one am responsible, as for Oscar he can handle himself and no, we are not in trouble. I need your help.”

Just hearing the four words leaving from you, Mark closed the folders in front of him grabbing his keys, standing up. “Where do you want to go?”

It’s been known that the team principal has a preference for Daniel Ricciardo, the same can be said for Helmut with Yuki and Max, but for Newey it was you. Everyone in the team was well aware of your relationship, Newey taught you everything you knew about engineering and cars.

News of you leaving Red Bull wasn’t broadcasted on any social platform as you wanted to quit the team quietly, not bound to any long term contacts, yet within the team, your move was associated with Newey’s future whereabouts as whispers of him leaving Red Bull increased as the days went by. “You didn’t tell me you’re leaving Red Bull.”

In front of you sat Newey, bringing forth a cup of coffee and the waffles you ordered prior. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving as well.” You scrunch your nose, whispering touché under your breath before taking a sip of coffee.

“So, I’m assuming you told your father. Why did you leave?” You take a stab of the waffles, mulling over your conversation with Mark last week. “I told him what happened of course. You know why I left, it’s because of him. Well, partially. Everything was just slowly building up you know, they pushed me to the corner, I left. Simple as that. Mine’s boring, tell me yours. Why’d you leave?”

You felt Newey’s heavy stare into yours, “I heard what he told you, after that I left hoping to convince you to leave but you’ve surprised me once again.” Blinking, you put down the forkful of waffles in shock. Studying his demeanor, Newey continued taking bites of his club sandwich as if he didn’t drop the biggest revelation in front of you.

“You know you’re contractually not allowed to poach anyone right?” Newey rubs the crumbs off of his hands glancing at you with an incredulous look on his face. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, people always assumed I put Max in my clause. He’s a big guy who can handle himself, I put your name in. If I were to leave, I could take you from me. You know Horner said something along the lines of that when I ended my contract one year earlier. He asked about you- if you convinced me to leave. I told him you’re smarter than that, then I- are you crying?”

You raise your hand to your cheeks, wiping the tears you didn’t notice were falling off. “I just thought you’d stay there, and of course I would 100 percent support you wherever you went, I didn’t think you’d stick up for me when I left.” Now you were just full on bawling in front of him, early morning in a semi-busy cafe on a Friday morning.

Newey laughs at you, throwing a napkin at your face. “I hope you’re ready to receive love calls for the next few days, we’ll be looking for some new prospects.”

You know time is of the essence, and when Newey advised you to keep an eye out for calls, you didn’t think they’d be calling you in the early mornings. Maybe it’s timezone differentiation but with the calls you’ve been getting for the last months have been more than alarming. A groan leaves your lips, before glancing over a familiar contact photo.

“Are you coming to China?” “It doesn’t seem like I have a choice now does it? Sounds like you want me to go now.” You hear movement from the other side of the line, “Yes, we’re stopping by to pick you up, get ready in 30 minutes.” “30 minutes? Am I not given time to prepare?” “Just bring yourself, if you’re worried you can use my money to buy whatever you need.” You scoff, jumping out of bed. “Just because I’m unemployed doesn’t mean I’m broke.”

“Are you sure you want to pay?”

“Hell no, I thought unemployment meant time for myself, didn’t think I would have to wake up at 4 AM catching flights to the Chinese Grand Prix.” You hear Mark’s laughter from the other side of the phone. “You better start getting ready, I’m on my way.”

“Never thought I’d see you sell me to another team. I thought I was sitting with you in the McLaren garage?” You explain to your stepfather as he walked with you to the Aston Martin garage.

Mark shook his head from your antics, “It’s a favor for a friend, you know to learn and see the company and team… it might make you enthusiastic to join.” You raise your brows listening to him sell the idea. “Are you not poaching me to join McLaren? Or are you worried about nepotism?”

Mark raised his hands to his face, panicking at the mention of nepotism right in front the Aston Martin garage, glancing around before shaking his head in disapproval while you’re giggling as he fusses over you. “I know you’re old enough to do this but please behave yourself, I just want you to see for yourself and not just because my friend asked for a favor, but I hope you enjoy yourself. I doubt McLaren is having any issues but if they wanted you, they would have to talk to you themselves instead of beating around the bush from me.”

You smile to yourself, “What about Aston Martin? What’s so different? And this favor from your friend, you must be really close with them, you’re offering my time so easily.”

“Fernando personally asked me to invite you.” You raise your brows glancing at the mechanic working on his car, “He couldn’t do it himself huh… Okay. I guess he had to go through such lengths seeing as he’s using you to invite me.” You take the ID Mark prepared for you, your name embossed with Fernando Alonso’s Guest below.

Your eyes wander around the green walls of their garage, you envision yourself in a dark green uniform, sitting on one of the pit lane garages looking over data. When Newey told you to prepare for new prospects you began looking around different teams, McLaren first and foremost due to Mark being involved, dabbling in offers from Mercedes and Williams, even from the junior Red Bull team which you immediately turned down, not wanting to be associated with the team any further.

The news of Newey leaving hasn’t left the confines of Red Bull, despite Newey mentioning you as the reason he left, you don’t believe it’s the whole truth. You could be a partial reason, but there are many more underlying reasons behind his leave, especially to him who spent almost 20 years with the team, Newey leaving came as a shocker even to you, but what you’re waiting for is his future plans.

You watch Mark slowly disappear from your sight, leaving you alone and for the first time in the 20 years of your life you felt exactly that. No one would have prepared you for what happened in the last two months of your life all leading to you leaving the first team you joined and spent your childhood in.

Sending a message to the only person you knew who spent his time in both Red Bull and Aston Martin garages, your phone rings as Sebastian calls you instead of answering your message. “Fernando invited you to the Aston Martin garage?” You stand from your seat to a quiet corner in the garage, away from the hustle and bustle, but more for your privacy.

You rather no one listen to you talking about one of their drivers in his garage. “He asked Mark for a favor apparently, I was whisked away from my apartment to come here in China, now I’m in his garage, only for qualifying though so that’s that I guess.” The silence on the other side starts to make you question your own response.

“That's not the reaction I was hoping for. That’s that? That’s it? Where is the energy?” You roll your eyes at his implicating tone.

“It left the moment I got unemployed.” Sebastian laughs on the other side of the line, “Sounds like he’s trying to promote you as an elite employee.”

“Where the fuck are you learning these from? It’s so unlike you, has retirement made you younger?” You shout at your phone appalled by the words you never once thought would leave his mouth. “I kid, I kid. But you know what I think that message was?”

You sigh, trying to ignore the clammy feeling of your palms as you inch the phone higher to your ear, “I think that was a call for help. All those years of denial haven't changed? I’ll say this, green doesn’t look like a good color on you.”

“Fuck you Seb, calling you was a mistake.” Pressing the button furiously, you end the call. It’s funny how Sebastian always knows how to get on your nerves, maybe you were somewhat similar to your stepfather. That, or Sebastian is easily a mischievous prick who you’re unfortunately friends with and one of the only people who knew about your little something with a certain driver in the grid.

Your phone chimes, a reply from Seb, “I hope you get uncomfortable in his garage while you think back to your escapades in Barcelona, in the summer of 2019.”

It’s not your fault that of all the men available on the face of the earth, your eyes linger a little longer on Fernando Alonso, even if he is your step father’s friend he is hot, is he not?

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso fic

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vanishingcherry · 1 year

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NO REGRETS

authors note: this is for my darling @cs55version. i love you so much and your idea was just too tempting so i hope i did it justice! to everyone who sent in something for the 1k celly, thank you so much! i've started writing a few and i'm gonna try and get them out soon

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Max had arrived to the Silverstone paddock slightly earlier than the other drivers, the team wanting to talk to him in person before the rest of the reporters and fans get there.

He walked into the motorhome, heading to Christian's office where he furrowed his brows at the sight of around 5 people in the room, a lot less that what he had been expecting.

"Hey guys... where is everyone else? Am I too early?" he chuckled, taking a seat and looking up in confusion when nobody replied.

"Uh Max, you're right on time." Christian said, looking around the room and making eye contact with Helmut for a few seconds before continuing. "It's not a team meeting, per se. We just had a couple thoughts about your girlfriend."

Max's eyes lit up at the mention of his girlfriend, his previously suspicious expression discarded for one of pure joy. "She's great isn't she?! I love her," he exclaims as he thinks about the facetime he was on with you just an hour ago.

Although the media and fans only found out a few days ago, close friends and family had known about the relationship for a few months. There were also a couple people on the RedBull team who Max trusted enough to tell, and it seemed that all of them were currently in the room.

"Yeah about that," his PR manager says, "we aren't sure if she's the best in terms of publicity and the image we are going for."

"What?" said Max, looking around to see if they were joking, anger boiling when he realised they weren't. "And what 'image' are we doing for exactly?"

"Max," Christian sighs. "Look, I'm happy that you're happy with her, really. But, I mean, her style of dressing and her music, it's just not something we're comfortable with."

"So?" Max questioned, still adamantly defending you. "It's what she's comfortable with, I don't see why you have an opinion here."

"Max, no one likes her." Helmut piped up from behind the boy. "We've seen the tweets and discussions and data, the fans just don't like her. They don't like the way she dresses or her lyrics or anything. "

Max was getting aggravated, not understanding what everyone else's opinion had to do with his relationship.

"Look." said Max, "I don't care. I like it, and she likes it and thats all that matters. I don't care about what the fans think, and neither does she. She has fans for fucks sake, isn't that proof enough that people like her?"

"We're sorry Max, but she isn't feasible for the team. It's your choice, but everyone thinks you should break up. I understand if you don't, but in that case we are going to have to do some form of damage control." His PR manager looks sympathetic, but Max could care less in the moment.

"Exactly, it's my choice. I am done with this conversation okay? We are not breaking up. Do whatever the fuck you want, but do not talk to me about her." Max slams the door behind him, walking away as everyone in the rooms sighs almost simultaneously, knowing that the conversation had gone miraculously bad.

"Do what you have to," said Christian to the PR team, "don't bother Max for a while."

liked by schecoperez, redbull and 1,639,857 others

redbullracing lovely to have you @.kellypiquet! ...perhaps a new couple on the grid? 👀

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f1fan WHAT? DID REDBULL JUST HARD LAUNCH MAX'S RELATIONSHIP?

↳ f1fan2 i am so confused bcs i remember him saying that his girlfriend was a singer in an interview

↳ maxfan1 oh yeah... forgot about that

↳ f1fan2 and as far as i know, kelly piquet isnt a singer

kellypiquet thanks for having me!

maxfan wait what happened to that other girl? were those actually just rumours then?

↳ maxfan3 probably 😭 people love making stuff up on twitter

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 2,239,857 others

maxverstappen this is my girlfriend, the most spectacular person i am honoured to know. i love you, schatje.

we weren't planning to tell the world yet, but i was forced to because of some false information my team has implied. nonetheless, i am very happy to share with the world the person i love most.

i would appreciate it if all the fans treat her with the respect she deserves.

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liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc and 823,059 others

yourusername no regrets

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holllandtrash · 2 years

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red flags | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

this is based off a request an anon left for @leclvrc but they opened it up for someone else to write it: 'toxic ex Charles where the reader and Carlos are together and Charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex'

word count: 13.2k (im so sorry) tags/warnings: 18+ toxic, smut, a lot of swears, really toxic, not healthy, i don’t condone any of this, this has so many red flags, more than the 2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix qualifying session (which was a lot) cheating, which i also don’t condone AT ALL holy moly don’t cheat on your partners, not even for charles leclerc, a little degrading, some choking did i mention this is just angst and hate and smut, thigh riding, overstimulation, p in v, all of it, this is bad this is all bad, if you ever come across a guy like this fucking run and alternatively if you relate to y/n pls seek a therapist.

Honestly, it was fucking stupid. All of it.

The way Charles looked at you when you walked into the motorhome as if you were a driver for a rival team was stupid. The way he literally rolled his eyes or made a face of disgust whenever you kissed Carlos was stupid. The way he completely disregarded your presence as you stood at the barrier to congratulate Carlos and him at the end of a Ferrari 1-2, was fucking stupid. And it was on international television so everyone and their mother was able to see the way Charles purposely ignored you after hugging the people on either side of you.

You decided to call him out on it the second you and Carlos returned to the hotel.

“What room is he in?” You demanded, storming down the hall when the elevator doors opened.

“Mi cielo, I don’t have a key to his room.”

The endearing term almost made you forget about ripping into Charles. Carlos had such a good weekend, he just wanted to relax and celebrate with you. Instead, he was following you down the hallway as you pointed at all of the numbered suites, waiting to see if Carlos would react to any of them.

And he did. He swallowed when you passed room 1250. You came to a sudden halt and looked back and forth between him and the door.

“This is his room?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my love,” you clicked your tongue against your teeth, stepping forward to cup his cheek with your hand. You felt his stubble under the pads of your fingers as you plastered on your sweetest smile. “You have a distinct tell when you lie.”

Your smile dropped as Carlos tried to argue with you, assuring you that he wasn’t lying. But he did the same thing every time a little white lie passed through his lips. He always glanced up and to the left. Very quickly, you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but it was a nervous tell of his you came to learn early on into your relationship.

Turning on your heels, you raised your fist to the door and started to hit it obnoxiously loud. Carlos attempted to grab your arm to get you to stop, muttering something about how there were other people in this hotel, but you just swatted him away and kept pounding on the wooden surface.

Charles knew you were out in the hall. There was no one else who would be causing this much of a disturbance just to talk to him. You had done it before, before you two even broke up. There were countless times when the two of you had gotten into fights during a race weekend and he’d ask for the hotel keys to be switched, purposely locking you out for a few hours, occasionally even for a full night if the argument was bad enough.

Honestly, you should have walked away from Charles a lot sooner.

But when things were good they were really fucking good. And the make up sex after you two were finished yelling at each other was almost as good as the hate sex.

And that’s all it was that was keeping you together. The physical attraction, the intimate pull you two shared. It wasn’t love, it wasn't romance and it certainly wasn’t the idea that you two would start a family and settle down one day. It was purely sex and it was unhealthy.

Whereas Carlos was everything Charles could never be.

Obviously jumping from one Ferrari driver to another caused a bit of an uproar, but it made for an entertaining episode on the last season of Drive to Survive. The producers had a habit of creating their own drama, but they didn’t need to embellish anything between Carlos and Charles. There was tension on the track, the determination to be the better driver, the constant fight and you were in the middle of it.

It wasn’t your fault that Carlos just so happened to be standing in the motorhome when you and Charles got into one of the worst screaming matches of your lives. You both thought the place was empty, it was nearly midnight and no one had any reason to still be at the paddock.

But Carlos heard it all. He heard all of the things Charles called you. He heard every swear in every possible language you knew come out of your mouth. He heard the door slam. He heard the way you screamed ‘We’re done’ with such strength and fury that he himself was paralysed with fear as you stormed down the stairs.

And then he saw your tear stained cheeks. He saw your trembling hands and heard your ragged breaths as you landed on the bottom step. You met Carlos’ eyes and not only were you embarrassed that he was a witness to that whole mess, his pitiful stare was what pushed you to the edge.

Your knees gave out as you all but collapsed to the floor. Carlos crossed the motorhome and bent down to your level, hurrying to take off his jumper so you could use it to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop.

What were you even crying for? Your relationship had been over for months by that point. Charles treated you like shit. You treated him like shit. It was a toxic cycle that was finally coming to an end.

But for two years, he was all you knew. He was everything to you. The good, the bad, the disastrous, it was your life.

You didn’t intend on anyone picking up the pieces. This was your mess, you had to move on by yourself.

So when Carlos offered to take you out, get you away from the motorhome, away from Charles, even just go for a drive, you almost said no. He had seen the downfall of yours and Charles’ relationship coming for a while now and you didn’t want to burden him anymore. You should have just stood up and left.

But you didn’t.

You hung out with Carlos that night. Nothing happened, of course. Maybe because part of you was holding onto that sliver of hope that Charles would call and ask where you were, only that call never came. He was done too.

There were no ulterior motives when you decided to keep hanging out with Carlos. It wasn’t to get under Charles’ nerves, it wasn’t so you could still be around the paddock. In all honesty, you avoided the races for a while, not wanting to run into Charles. Your friendship with Carlos grew, but you kept it private. It wasn’t until the second last race of the season, nearly four months after you and Charles called things off, did you decide to show up in support of Carlos.

God did you regret that. If you had known the Drive to Survive production team was still hanging around, you probably would have stayed home. Instead, you gave them the last little bit of drama they needed before calling it a wrap.

Charles spotted you first, which wasn’t ideal. You hadn’t shown up with Carlos, but he was expecting you. Charles, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and took his sunglasses off, narrowing his eyes at you as you walked in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles asked, clear annoyance on his face. To him, you were a headache with legs. He thought he’d never have to see you again.

You weren’t going to let his attitude get to you. If anyone was going to be the bigger person you made sure it was you. You smiled sweetly at him, not even bothering to stop to give him the time of day as you just pointed at the Ferrari motorhome.

“You can’t go in there,” Charles scoffed, pivoting on his heels to follow you. He reached for your arm and you were quick to pull it from his grasp.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled.

“Then don’t show up at the fucking race,” Charles shot back. “Why are you here, Y/N? You have no reason to be here.”

“I’m just here to support my favourite Ferrari driver.”

The confusion on his face was priceless. 100% he was wondering if you were there in hopes of winning him back.

But Carlos’ timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He was walking from the other end of the paddock and picked up his pace the second he saw you and Charles already bickering. He didn’t want you two to cause a scene, but he might have already been too late.

When you spotted Carlos, you genuinely forgot about the Monegasque driver standing right next to you. Your hard features softened. Your scowl shifted into a smile. Your shoulders relaxed.

Before Carlos could even greet you, Charles let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking my teammate.”

“Not yet,” you shrugged. “I’ll see how well he does today first.”

It was a joke that Charles took literally. Once Carlos finally reached you, he placed a hand on your back and asked how your drive in was, giving Charles the cold shoulder.

Charles couldn’t believe what was right in front of him. His ex and his teammate. Friends? Possibly more than friends? He scoffed, pulling you both from your private conversation, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You challenged him. Carlos picked up on your venomous tone and pulled you closer into his side, ready to intervene if he needed to.

Charles just looked at Carlos and slid his sunglasses back on, “Have fun with her, mate. She’s a wild card.”

“Can we just all be civil?” Carlos asked, looking between you and Charles. Neither of you said anything. That wasn’t something either of you could promise. Carlos eventually sighed, staring right at Charles, “She won’t bother you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you snapped your head towards him.

Carlos wasn’t about to put up with your attitude right now. You were annoyed, your morning hadn’t started off the way you wanted and you were dangerously close to taking it out on the wrong person. Carlos recognised this and spoke directly to you, “You won’t bother him, right?”

You didn’t want to ruin Carlos’ day. So you nodded, agreeing to stay out of Charles’ way granted he offered you the same courtesy.

Charles stalked off immediately following that conversation. And he was true to his word, he stayed out of your way.

The only problem was, the fucking Netflix crew managed to capture most of that interaction. Even if they didn’t get audio, they didn’t need it. They could fill in the blanks and turn this situation into a goddamn soap opera.

It didn’t help that when Carlos landed a podium, you were right there against the barriers. Neither of you had crossed that line yet and had remained friends for the last few months, but the adrenaline was high. Carlos had one of the best races of his life and you were genuinely so excited to have witnessed it, to have been there to cheer him on, to be one of the first people he saw when he parked the car at the end of the race.

You made the first move, and even then, it wasn’t really a move. You kissed his helmet, barely able to contain the grin on your face as the crowd behind you exploded for him.

You didn’t expect him to pull his helmet off, that’s for damn sure. But he did. He handed it towards a team member for temporary safe keeping and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. There were about twenty other people he could have celebrated with first, you were only a friend up until now, but he wanted to kiss you in front of thousands of people.

Charles never did that.

He’d hug you, maybe, if you weren’t in a bad mood and were actually watching from the garage. He wouldn’t jump into your arms like he did the rest of the team. He wouldn’t make it public that he was elated to see you in the crowd. He’d squeeze your arm or your waist, that was it.

Carlos didn’t think twice about the repercussions. He didn’t think about twitter and instagram blowing up as CARLOS CELEBRATES WITH CHARLES LECLERC’S EX-GF topped all of the trends. He didn’t think about how bad this would look for you or the team, or for the dynamic between him and Charles moving forward.

The upside was there was only one race left. One race, which of course you attended. And then you two were in the clear.

During the winter break, you were in your own little world. Carlos treated you how you knew you deserved to be treated. He didn’t raise his voice at you, or if he did it was only in a playful way or when you had stolen the remote and changed the film when he stood up to use the bathroom during a movie night.

Slowly but surely, you were falling in love with the Spanish driver.

It was a whirlwind romance that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet. The two of you were on cloud nine from December to March. Four months where the world beyond his house didn’t matter. The drama didn’t matter. The impending tension as you moved closer and closer to the start of the new season, didn’t matter.

You didn’t even care that Netflix painted you out to be a villain. At this point, the majority of Charles' fans couldn’t stand you and about half of Carlos’ fans didn’t trust you. Paddock Bunny, you were called. Hopping from driver to driver.

But people didn’t know about the toxic relationship you shared with Charles. No one outside of the Paddock knew you two were at your absolute worst when you were together. If they did, they’d probably be over the fucking moon to hear how Carlos was treating you in comparison. They’d probably stop rooting for the Monegasque driver.

What a sight that would be. People burning their 16 caps and CL merch because they found out how awful of a partner he was. It would never happen, but you could dream.

You were tempted to make that dream a reality when you showed up at testing in Bahrain with Carlos. You had so much dirt on Charles, so many stories that would ruin him and the Leclerc name that when he took one look at you in the paddock that first weekend in March, you nearly sent in an anonymous email to Sky Sports.

Carlos talked you out of it, telling you that you couldn’t drag his teammate through the mud.

But Charles was such a fucking asshole. He stayed out of your way, sure, but if your paths did cross he made you feel so inferior, like you weren’t allowed to be in the Paddock. He’d make snarky little comments to other drivers or to members of his team, calling you names you didn’t want to repeat, all because you were with Carlos now. He treated you like you were scum of the earth.

So…it was similar to when you were dating. The only difference now was you couldn’t scream at him or cause a fight when you felt the tension building. You couldn’t even attempt to work through it, even temporarily. Both of you just carried all of this weight and frustration on your shoulders, both angry at the other for the stupidest fucking reasons.

Flash forward to today's race when it finally came to a boiling point.

Charles won. Carlos finished second. It was a Ferrari 1-2 at the second race of the season. This would do wonders for the constructors and for both of them. You hated Charles but you would always be a Ferrari fan. You supported Carlos so in some way, you were sort of forced to support Charles. At an arm's length and through tooth and nail, but you did want to see both drivers succeed.

When both drivers made their way out of the cars, Carlos found you first. He kissed you, of course he did. He was glistening with sweat, his name was being called from all angles but he found you and he kissed you like there wasn’t a single person watching.

He made his way down the line, celebrating with his team and Charles did the same. They exchanged a hug as they met in the middle of the line and it was only a few seconds later when Charles was right in front of you.

He didn’t even look your way. He hugged the person to your left and then grabbed the arms of the person to your right, bypassing you completely.

You weren’t expecting a celebratory hug, you certainly didn’t want one. But the cameras had caught the lack of interaction and now once again your name was trending. CHARLES GIVES EX THE COLD SHOULDER AFTER FERRARI 1-2.

You looked like a fucking idiot. It didn’t help that someone with a camera captured a clip of you staring at Charles like he had just spit on you or insulted your entire family. The disgust and betrayal on your face was evident.

Carlos tried to tell you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he just didn’t see you. You were right in the front and you were the same fucking height, of course he saw you.

So you were pissed the entire drive to the hotel. Carlos asked you not to say anything. He practically begged for the two of you to just go back to your room, but the moment you stepped out of the elevator, your mind was made up.

Now here you were, banging on his hotel room door. The underside of your first was starting to turn numb and no matter what, Carlos couldn’t get you to stop. Each time he tried to grab your hand or pull you away, you elbowed him in the side or yanked your arm out of his grasp.

“Open the fucking door!” You yelled, landing one more exceptionally hard hit on it. Carlos winced at the contact. Your hand was going to hurt in the morning, but the fact that you paid the pain no attention right now said a lot. How often did you find yourself in this situation?

But it worked. Charles probably had enough of the disturbance and he swung the door open. You had half a mind to land a hit directly to his nose, but that wouldn’t look good for his image.

He didn’t even look at Carlos. His gaze hardened as he met your stare, “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything!” You jabbed a finger against his chest, pushing him further into his own hotel suite. Carlos tried to grab your arm and pull you back but it just resulted in him being dragged into the room after you. There was no stopping you when you were this outraged. You scanned over Charles, hating his I’m-too-good-for-this-shit, expression he wore. “What I need is for you to get your fucking head out of your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

The nerve of this man.

“Have you not looked at your phone recently?” You tried not to scream at him, but it was hard to keep your voice at a respectful volume when the person who caused you so much grief and anger was standing a foot away from you. “Everyone saw the way you completely ignored me at the end of your race. I’m a fucking laughing stock on social media right now.”

Charles nodded, his jaw clenched, “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself by sleeping with your ex’s teammate?”

You turned over your head at Carlos who was now leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he watched you two hash it out. This was probably a long time coming. This was also the longest you had gone without fighting, you had a lot of pent up aggression and you were certain he did too.

Carlos knew that there was a time and a place to step in, so he just watched carefully, listening for when one of you crossed a line. He couldn’t place a bet for who would be the first to do so, but he knew it was coming.

You stepped forward, expecting Charles to step backwards to keep the gap, but he was never one to back down from you. That was your problem, one of them at least. You were both too stubborn.

“I don’t know why you think this is just a fucking hook up, Charles, but let me remind you that it’s not. I love him-”

“I love you too,” Carlos added from behind you and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t humanely possible to grow tired of hearing those words.

But again, time and place.

Charles snickered when you held up a hand towards your boyfriend, a nonverbal reminder that now was probably not the time to interject, even if he did so with the sweetest intentions.

You focused back on Charles. “I love him, so I’ll be sticking around for a while whether you like it or not.” And just to get under his skin, you added, “I know love is a word you’re probably not familiar with-”

Charles dragged his hands over his face. It was his turn to raise his voice as he cut you off mid-sentence before you could finish whatever painful truth he didn’t want to hear, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want you to apologise for completely disregarding me earlier.

“What are you on about, Y/N?”

You hated the way he said your name. Like each individual letter was laced with its own personal brand of venom.

“Are you kidding me?” He had to be playing dumb to piss you off even more. “I was at the barrier and you hugged every other person around me and didn’t even have the audacity to look at me. I don’t need a hug, Charles, but maybe get off your fucking high horse and show some fucking appreciation when I show up in support of Ferrari! Put on a fucking act when the cameras are around, at least.”

Charles raked his eyes over your body. Your chest was rising with each angered breath. He knew your heart was racing. He knew what you were like when you were riled up like this.

He also knew that if you weren’t with Carlos, this fight would end very differently.

He knew you would turn around and leave with Carlos when you finally got the last word in but if Carlos wasn’t glued to your side right now, you wouldn’t be leaving until Charles fucked you so hard, you forgot why you were even mad in the first place.

He’d pin you against the wall to get you to stop talking and kiss every inch of the skin visible on your neck before his hand found a home on your throat. His other hand would work to keep your wrist glued to the wall to keep you from grabbing him.

He’d tease you until you were begging for him to actually do something and even then, Charles would take his time with you. Sex with him was never easy. It wasn’t gentle or loving, it was rough and fueled by a variety of emotions, anger being the most prominent.

But that wasn’t how this fight was going to end. Charles could rile you up all he wanted but at the end of the night, you’d go back to your room with Carlos. You could take the rest of your anger out on him in bed and he’d probably run you a fucking bubble bath afterwards and kiss your shoulders. He probably had a whole assortment of ways to make you forget why you were upset, wholesome ways. Ways that didn’t make you want to claw his eyes out.

Charles hated the thought.

He hated knowing that you could stand here and yell at him and get most of your frustration out and at the end of it, you had someone else to turn to. Someone to turn things around for the better. Whereas he had no one. He had to stand here and listen to you scream at him and when you left, he’d be alone.

There would be no hate sex. No make up sex. No waking up the next morning with you in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to bury his face into the back of your neck, making you laugh softly when he muttered something about your hair being too long. He could no longer reach for your arm to pull you back on top of the covers when you tried to stand up to go take a shower.

You two had some horrible days and a lot of insufferable nights.

But the mornings were good.

Before anything else mattered, before either of you could remember why you were fighting twelve hours earlier, before a comment was said that negatively affected your mood for the next few hours.

The mornings were fucking good and god did he miss that.

He wondered if you did too.

But you probably had the best mornings with Carlos. He probably made you breakfast in bed, something that Charles was always too tired to do. Carlos probably pulled you into the bathroom to shower with him whereas Charles always complained about the type of shampoo you used and how you hogged most of the water. Carlos probably invited you out to his events, his meetings, to run errands and Charles wouldn’t even consider letting you tag along, knowing that a fight would break out one way or another.

You brought out the worst in each other.

He should have walked away from you a long time ago.

He had enough experience with red flags to know that you were the worst of them.

Neither of you could explain why you put up with each other for so long. It wasn’t love, it was never love. What you had with Carlos was love.

Charles could admit he was envious.

Why couldn’t you ever look at him the way you looked at his teammate? Why was it so easy for Carlos to make you laugh? Why did he walk in on conversations where Carlos was talking about you like you put the fucking sun in the sky?

What did Carlos have that he didn’t? Besides patience. And a sense of humour. And the ability to admit when he was in the wrong.

The more Charles thought about it, the more it sunk in that he wasn’t good for you.

He remembered when you first started dating and he wanted to be good for you. He wanted to be what you needed. He wanted to fall in love with you and he wanted you to fall in love with him in return.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when something in your relationship shifted for the worse, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

This whole thing was fucking stupid. You kissing Carlos after he got second place was stupid, especially when he thought about how you never kissed him when he got a podium. You banging on his door hours after the race to yell at him was stupid. And now, you standing right in front of him while your boyfriend, his teammate, listened with caution in case he had to step in was fucking stupid. You could handle yourself, Charles knew that much.

You were still yelling at him about how he had completely disregarded you after the race. Charles zoned out for a second, something he often did when you raised your voice. All of these fights sounded the same, it didn’t matter what the current problem was. The biggest problem was always your relationship in general. The two of you should not have been allowed within ten feet of each other.

He promptly cut you off, “Y/N you are the absolute last person I want to see when I finish a race.”

“Well suck it up because I’m going to be around for a while,” your jaw tightened as you spoke. The lines in your forehead were making a reappearance. You were always scowling at him, Charles couldn’t remember the last time you looked relaxed.

“That doesn’t mean I need to put up with it.”

“Yes it fucking does,” you retorted. “I’m here for Carlos and here for Ferrari. You just so happen to be part of this fucking team so unfortunately for both of us, we can’t just avoid each other all season, Charles.”

“Well we can fucking try and you can start-” he gestured towards the door, “-by getting the hell out of my hotel room.”

You tugged at the roots of your hair, inhaling a deep breath, “Oh my fucking god-”

“Can you please control her?” Charles turned his line of sight towards Carlos. Carlos looked like he didn’t want to be dragged into the middle of this, but now he had no choice.

“Control me?” You yelled. “Oh you pretentious, arrogant fucking bastard-”

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos stepped forward, cutting you off before you could start swearing in French. He reached for your hand and you were harsh in pulling it away from him. The last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, though.

“No, mate you’re doing it wrong,” Charles interjected. A wicked smirk on his lips as he stared at you but spoke directly to Carlos. “You can’t grab her like that, she doesn’t like it. She’ll only listen if you go for the throat, choke the words out of her-”

Now Carlos was getting involved. You made a swing towards Charles, aiming for his face but Carlos grabbed you and pulled you back, his arms tightening around your waist and using his strength to his advantage, something he didn’t like doing with you. He practically pushed you towards the door before squaring up with Charles himself, nearly chest to chest.

Carlos was fuming over what Charles had said. He knew your relationship was toxic, but he couldn’t believe that after months, almost a year, of it being over, Charles could still say something so degrading, so disrespectful.

And Charles was smirking. He thought this was entertaining. He knew Carlos wouldn’t hit him. He knew Carlos wouldn’t let you hit him. He also knew that you weren’t going to be able to get the last word in, something you thrived on.

“I’m not wrong,” Charles said quietly, eyes darting towards you for a brief second as you stood with your arms crossed by the door. Charles gestured towards his own neck, “Give it a try sometime. She likes it.”

“How about you just stop talking about her, yeah?” Carlos suggested, with an underlying bitter tone that wasn’t usually present when he opened his mouth. “Don’t talk about her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her.”

He made the mistake of looking at you right when he said that and Carlos raised his hand to push on Charles’ chest, forcing his attention away from you.

He didn’t want to fight with teammate, but he was going to stand up for you no matter what. Time and place, he decided, and right now, Charles had to be put in his fucking place.

“She’s not worth it, mate,” Charles chuckled.

“It’s the other way around, mate.” Carlos mimicked. “You’re not worth it. At least Y/N was able to figure that out.”

They both flinched when the door slammed. Carlos turned over his shoulder to see that you were no longer standing there. You stormed out of the room. Charles tried to tell him to just leave you be, you did this all the time, but Carlos wasn’t Charles.

He followed you out and found you furiously pressing the elevator button, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. Carlos knew better than to reach for your arm at this point, so he settled for putting his hand on your waist and stepping forward until his chest was against you. You felt the tension in your shoulders dissipate when he slowly snaked his arm around your stomach, pulling you against him.

You dropped your head to his shoulder, eyes closed and you whispered, “I hate him.”

“I know,” Carlos pressed a kiss to your temple.

What a fucking difference. Usually you were screaming ‘I hate you’ and you’d hear those three words repeated back. Sometimes in French. Sometimes in Italian. Once, Charles took you by surprise and screamed it in Spanish. Whatever the context, whatever the language, whatever the fight, you’d always hear it back.

You raised your hand to press your palm against his cheek. Carlos hugged you tighter against him and you stayed like that until the elevator doors finally opened on the twelfth level.

You pressed the button to take you to the lobby and Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing the room you shared was on the tenth floor.

“I need air,” you answered his wordless question. “Just for a minute. I need to take a walk.”

“I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late,” Carlos was worried for your safety and that was such a foreign concept to you. When you told Charles you need to go for a walk he would say ‘I don’t care’ or ‘don’t come back’. He wasn’t concerned about what could happen to you when you stepped outside.

You extended your hand out to grab his, giving him an assuring squeeze, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Carlos walked you to the doors of the lobby, not letting your hand go until he had to. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and slid the extra room key into your jacket pocket. He then took hold of your face, tilting it upwards so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“I love you, mi cielo,” he kissed your lips feverishly. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

Mi cielo. My sky. My heaven. Carlos started calling you that soon after you started dating. When you asked what it meant, he said that he was calling you his own personal slice of heaven right here on earth.

That’s when you knew you loved him.

You assured him once more you’d be fine before stepping outside, letting the midnight air hit your cheeks. Your jacket was thin, but you didn’t plan on staying out for very long. With your hands shoved in your pockets, you made your way down the sidewalk, replaying the last few minutes in your head.

You really did hate Charles.

Everything about him infuriated you beyond reason.

You couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude. How he couldn’t own up to his own mistakes, in his personal life, in your relationship, on the track. Charles just couldn't be wrong. All of his problems were always someone else's fault.

You remembered the first horrible fight you got into. You had bickered here and there, all couples did, but when he returned home after a race weekend and you showed him the text you got from Pierre, one that read ‘did you and Charles break up?’ you lost it on him.

He cheated on you. Why the fuck else would Pierre be asking you that? There were no photos, no proof, and Pierre refused to go into detail, but you knew. You could practically smell the infidelity on him as he walked through the door.

When gaslighting you into thinking you were crazy didn’t work, Charles tried to blame you for his actions. He tried to say that you didn’t pay him enough attention, that you should be joining him during race weekends so he didn’t feel tempted to seek affection somewhere else. It was your fault he cheated.

And you loved him, well you thought you did, so you started accompanying him more often.

God did that just make things worse.

Everything was a constant downhill in your relationship. There was no silver lining. There were good moments, but they were always overshadowed by the impending dark clouds. It was never easy for you two.

And you weren’t perfect either, you could admit you had flaws and contributed to your relationship falling apart. You didn’t trust Charles, as much as you wanted to, you never did. There was no solid foundation for you two to ever stand on so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the cracks started forming.

You became annoyed with every little thing he did, or said, or even the way he looked at you. Qualities of his you used to admire soon because the reasons why you struggled to be in the same room as him.

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats. It was unhealthy and everyone around you saw it.

His team was probably ecstatic when they heard you broke up. They didn’t have to worry about a blow up in the garage or Charles being in a bad mood during meetings.

No one could have expected you’d show up again with Carlos.

The team walked on eggshells, watching to see if you and Charles would return to your ways, bickering, arguing, yelling.

But that didn’t happen during testing. Nor did it happen during the first race weekend, or the second. There were only petty comments made behind the others back, but nothing that caused the two of you to get into each other's faces again.

You thought maybe you could work with this. Just having to see Charles. As long as you didn’t talk directly to him, everything would be fine. That’s what the whole team was hoping for, at least.

And then this bullshit after the race happened and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore. You needed Charles to understand where you were coming from, why he couldn’t just brush you off in front of the public eye like that.

There was so much more you wanted to say to him too, you wondered why you even stormed out.

Going for a walk and getting air wasn’t helping. If anything, the anger stirred inside of you and the more time you spent not letting it out, the more worked up you became.

Maybe that’s why you found yourself hitting button 12 instead of 10 when you returned to the hotel. You needed to get one or two more things off your chest and then you’d be fine, then you could go back to Carlos.

You knocked on the door, politely this time. Not like it mattered because he probably looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall.

The door swung open. Charles rolled his eyes after checking to see if Carlos had followed you up. When he realised that you were alone, he pushed the door open some more, just enough for you to step in.

“I take it you’re not done?” Charles’ assumption was correct, but it was a little surprising that he invited you in without you needing to cause a scene. Maybe he had more he wanted to say to you as well.

He grabbed the remote off the edge of the counter and paused the movie that was playing. You recognised it instantly. He was watching The Princess Bride. One of your favourite movies.

There’s no fucking way he was just scrolling through the tv guide and came across it. He had to purposely search and pay for it.

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at the television, completely ignoring his question, “Princess Bride?”

He shrugged, “It was just on.”

Bull-fucking-shit.

“I thought you hated this movie,” you recalled the number of times you tried to get him to watch it with you and he never would.

Charles shrugged again, “Well you seem to like it.”

“So you’re just now giving it a chance eight months after we’ve broken up?”

“Would you rather I not watch it?”

“I would have rathered you watched it with me when I fucking asked you too!” It only took ten seconds for you to raise your voice at him. “Jesus, Charles, when I told you it was my favourite movie you went out of your fucking way to never let me watch it.”

“You’re being dramatic. I never did that.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” He had heard it so many times during your fights.

“Stop giving me a reason to.”

And just like that, you had fallen back into your previous cycle. Pointless, stupid, meaningless fights. Over a movie for fucks sakes. But you were both so easy to piss off. No one worked you two up quite like the other.

“Why are you here?” Charles asked, shifting the conversation back to you. “Shouldn’t you be with Carlos?”

You caught the lingering jealousy in his tone. The way he waved his hand to the side, acting as though you dating his teammate didn’t bother him, when in reality it did.

But Charles also caught the way your breath caught in your throat. He noticed how you shifted your balance from one leg to the other, something you only did when you were nervous. You may not have been a good pair, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know you.

“Carlos has no idea that you’re here right now, does he?” Charles didn’t even have to ask. He knew the answer.

Maybe that’s why he stepped forward slowly, eyes raking over your body like they had done so many times before. Maybe because he knew Carlos didn’t know your whereabouts, Charles felt confident enough to step around you and tug at the sleeves of your jacket until it was no longer on your body. You didn’t know why you let him. You came here to yell at him some more and in a split second, in the blink of a fucking eye, the atmosphere shifted.

Charles reached for your wrist and you reacted like you did every other time someone touched you, by flinching away and putting some space between your bodies.

But that wasn’t going to work with Charles.

He paid no attention to your reserved tendencies and just grabbed your other arm instead, gripping your wrist and turning you to face him before you could react fast enough. You attempted to pull away, you even pushed on his chest, but Charles was unphased. He just waited a few seconds, letting you think you’d win this and then he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around so your back was pressed against his chest, your arms crossed over your body like an X.

Charles dipped chin so his mouth was right by your ear. His breath was hot against your skin. There was no doubt in your mind that he could feel your heart racing through the clothes on your back.

“Mon amour,” Charles spoke so softly, but you didn’t let his gentle tone fool you. Neither did you let his name for you affect you the way it used to. “Let’s stop fighting, oui?”

“Don’t call me that,” you pulled against his hold but his grip was too tight.

Charles chuckled and you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, “What would you rather I call you? Mi cielo?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he calls you that,” his lips travelled dangerously close along your skin. You could feel goosebumps rise over every inch of your skin. “You were always picky about pet names, but Carlos doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Don’t-”

You lost the last of your argument when Charles suddenly let you go, only to pin you against the nearby wall instead. His hand went to your throat, keeping you in place without applying any pressure. Before you could push him off of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and placed them above your head.

This was a position the two of you had found yourselves in more often than not.

But you were broken up now. You were with Carlos. You loved Carlos. Charles had absolutely no fucking right to be trying to pull a move like this.

And you had no right to be enjoying it.

“Answer me,” Charles’ eyes darkened. “Does Carlos know what you like? Does he know how to turn you on, mon amour?” He leaned in, his lips hovering right over yours, “Does he know you still think about me?”

“Let go of me,” your voice was barely audible, like you had to convince yourself to say the words and even then, you weren’t even sure if what you were demanding was what you really wanted.

Charles noticed how you avoided each of his questions, which in itself was a good enough answer to all of them.

When he released the hold on your neck, you expected his other hand to follow. You weren’t surprised, however, when his grip on your wrists only tightened. His fingers trailed down your side, stopping to push up the hem of your shirt. You shivered under his touch and it gave Charles a bit of an ego boost, the confidence he needed to go further.

You wanted him. Even if you said you didn’t, the way you reacted to the faintest touch told him otherwise.

He needed to hear it though. He’d tease you until the sun came up, he’d done it before. What Charles wanted was to hear you beg. He wanted you to tell him how desperate you were for him, how these last eight months without him had been unbearable.

He had no idea what your sex life with Carlos was like. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Charles knew he would always be the best fuck of your life. No one would ever take that title from him.

He undid the button of your jeans, all while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d put up more of a fight or not.

You were the one that showed up here, alone, after an argument.

You may have been broken up, but if there was one thing Charles knew, it was recognising a fucking pattern.

He then dragged your zipper down next. He traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them to see what colour they were.

Of course they were red.

“For Carlos,” you told him, reminding him that you had a boyfriend. You wore a matching lingerie set for your boyfriend. “He likes me in red.”

“Of course he does,” Charles tossed that thought aside, “It’s a shame he won’t be able to enjoy them.”

He slipped the tips of his fingers past the seam. It was embarrassing how your back arched off the wall. Charles made sure your legs were spread by keeping a knee pressed between them and he looked pleased with himself as his hand travelled further down your panties.

His hand rested just above your clit, he didn’t need to go any further to know you were soaking. Charles knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on, to leave you craving him. His nose brushed against yours and if you tilted your chin up the slightest bit, your lips would connect.

But Charles dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck instead, the spot where your throat met your jawline. You craned your head upwards, automatically giving him easier access as his teeth grazed your skin.

Charles knew your body better than you did. He knew that the second he took your earlobe between his teeth, your breaths would become staggered. He knew that the tighter he held onto your wrist, the more you gave in, you always gave in. He knew that the moment his fingers brushed over your clit, a helpless whimper would pass through your lips.

Charles knew the pattern by heart. He knew you.

So when he did all of that and Carlos’ name didn’t cross your mind, you knew you were screwed. You should have been trying harder to push Charles off of you. You shouldn’t have even showed up here in the first place.

He started massaging your clit, slowly yet confident in his actions and you were absolutely throbbing. Charles didn’t like gentle so the fact he was taking his time right now, purposely trying to work you up even more, only pissed you off further.

Charles dropped his mouth, moving to suck on another sensitive part of your neck. He debated leaving a mark, something you’d struggle to hide when you eventually, inevitably, returned to Carlos.

“Charles,” you swallowed, legs shaking as he focused all his energy on your clit. Rubbing the nub beneath the pads of his fingers.

“Oui, mon amour?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, it was an act. Nothing about this, about him, was sweet. He lifted his head, nose brushing against yours as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Tell me what you want.”

It took a second, but you managed to form a single coherent thought, forcing the name out through clenched teeth, knowing just how much it would get under Charles’ skin.

“Carlos.”

Charles had the audacity to laugh. His lips hovered over yours, barely touching, but close enough that you found yourself trying to lean forward to connect them.

“Wrong answer.”

Without warning, Charles’s hand dipped further and he plunged two fingers inside of you. He watched with a smug look on his face as your jaw fell open and a helpless inhale was all that came from you. You attempted to clench your legs together but Charles made sure that his knee kept them apart as he slowly started to slide his digits in and out.

“You always take me so well, don’t you?” His praise sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core. He kissed your jaw softly, “So tight, Y/N. Does Carlos not know how to fuck you?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer. And it wasn’t like you were in the state of mind to give him one. Charles curled his fingers inside of you and your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to get as much out of this as you possibly could.

He was relentless with his fingers and stubborn in the way he held your wrists above your head when all you wanted to do was touch him. Each time his fingers entered you it was driven by fury and lust, a dangerous combination that you knew so well.

He was purposely keeping his lips off of you now, wanting to watch you crumble from just his fingers alone. He’d tease you with his breath hitting your lips, or grazing his mouth along your jaw, but he wouldn’t give you what you desperately wanted.

This was a game to him. Bring you to the edge until you had no choice but to beg.

He added a third finger without so much of a thought, loving the way your walls clenched around him. Charles wished he didn’t have to use his fingers to fuck you, but he could be patient. He could play the long game tonight.

And then he stopped, his fingers deep inside you but refused to move them. You swallowed and attempted to rock your hips against his hand, but Charles wouldn’t budge.

“You’re too quiet,” he said, head slightly tilted. It was true, though. There were no helpless moans or whimpers coming from the back of your throat. No pleas to go faster, harder. You were biting your tongue and holding back.

It was because you didn’t want him to know how desperate you were. It was the last bit of pride you were holding onto, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe you just don’t turn me on the way you used to.”

He laughed cruelly as he started his assault on your pussy again, curling his fingers and getting just the right angle, knowing what you said was bullshit. Charles smirked, “We both know that's a lie.”

“Fuck me,” Your head fell back against the wall, your legs were shaking. Charles was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Ask nicely and maybe I will.”

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

“That’s fine, mon amour,” Charles dragged his thumb over your clit and that familiar sensation started to build in your centre. “I will happily watch you cum all over my fingers again, and again, and again, until you forget your own name.”

He rammed his fingers in you again, picking up his pace.

“Or better yet,” Charles left a delicate kiss right below your ear, applying more pressure to your clit, “Until you forget his name.”

That should not have been what did it for you, Charles dragging your relationship through the dirt, but the second those words left his mouth you were gone.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. What was worse was the strangled moan you failed to keep back that was music to Charles’ ears. You pulsed around him and he continued to fuck you with his fingers through it all, not letting up until you were shaking and even then he just brought them to a halt and left them inside you.

Charles released the grip he had on you and your wrists were sore and tender. You didn’t have to look at them to know how red they were, and in all honesty, the pain you’d feel tomorrow was the last thing on your mind.

You were breathless, staring up at Charles and trembling each time one of his fingers brushed against your sensitive walls. He leaned forward, once again hovering his lips over yours, both of you wondering who would make the move to close the gap once and for all.

Him fingering you was one thing. It was pure sexual tension built up over the course of god knows how long. But by kissing him, this moment would become so much more intimate. Less lust, more desire. A kiss was supposed to be shared with the person you loved, it was supposed to make you feel safe and adored.

And you didn’t love Charles.

But you kissed him anyway.

With his hand still down your pants, you took that daring step to press your lips against his. It was rough and frantic and your tongues were clashing as you held onto the side of his face, relishing in the feeling of his stubble beneath your fingers.

Charles didn’t let you enjoy this for very long. He pulled back, keeping your jaw between his forefinger and thumb as he forced your mouth open. His thumb traced along your lower lip and as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, past your aching folds, you recognised the deviant look in his eyes.

Charles brought his fingers, soaked with your juices, up to your lips. The sight of you licking yourself off of him turned him on more than anything else ever could. This was a mess he created and you were cleaning it up, without so much as a verbal instruction.

He forced his fingers into your mouth, suppressing a moan when your tongue swirled around his digits. He could see the tears well up in yours as he pushed them as far back as his knuckles would allow, getting off on the control he held over you.

That’s all it ever was. Charles needed to be in control. You wouldn’t have had a problem with that if that desire of his didn’t extend past the bedroom, but it always did.

Charles pulled his fingers out of your mouth when he noticed you struggling to breathe around them.

It was safe to say that neither of you what to do next. This wasn’t like all of the other times you fought and made up with sexual acts. You weren’t supposed to be his to fight with anymore. You shouldn’t have caved as quickly as you did.

He wasn’t holding you anymore. Nothing was keeping you from pushing him away and heading towards the door. You could storm out of here and pretend like none of this happened, like your boyfriend's teammate wasn’t just knuckles deep inside of you.

But you didn’t leave.

You stood with your back against the wall, eyes locked on Charles as the same thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t want you to leave. The longer he kept you here, the more time you spent away from Carlos. Fuck Carlos, he thought. Fuck his teammate for stealing you from him.

Charles still wanted to hear you beg.

All it took was a microscope raise of his eyebrows and you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Charles feverishly reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, swearing under his breath when he saw the red lace bra you had on. That you wore for Carlos.

It had to go.

Before he could rip the material off of you, you grabbed his shirt and peeled it off his body. If you were shirtless, it was only fair that he was too.

And then it was a race to see who could get the others clothes off fastest. Charles’ lips attacked your neck as he pushed your jeans down as much as he could, relying on you to step out of them and kick them to the side. You unzipped his joggers and he stepped out of them, hearing him groan when you palmed his painfully hard dick through his briefs.

He cupped your panties, feeling how soaked you were through them. He had half a mind to fuck you against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted that easily.

Charles had to fight with himself to step away from you and when he did you were confused. You stood with your back against the wall as you watched him walk backwards towards the bed, the outline of his cock constricted against the thin material.

He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread as they hung off the end of it. His palms rested against the blanket as he leaned backwards and nodded his head, gesturing you to follow.

And you did. Of course you did. Charles was intoxicating as much as he was toxic. You couldn’t get enough and for that reason alone, he would be the death of you.

You stood between his legs, arms draped over his shoulders as Charles took in the sight of your body, your curves that he had had memorised, the red lace that was giving him a headache.

He reached around you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. Your fingers became tangled in his hair as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching it until you moaned in pleasure, or pain, or both.

Charles kept his hand on you, continuing to fondle and show attention to one of his favourite parts of you as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts.

He was being uncharacteristically slow. Something that never lasted, but you didn’t let yourself think about it as Charles took your other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like he had done so many times before. When he grazed his teeth over you, your knees momentarily buckled. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs again and you needed him to do something about it.

You dropped your knee to the edge of the bed, ready to straddle him, but Charles had other plans in mind. He stared up at you, devilishly handsome, dark hair pulled in all sorts of directions, an unruly sight that was making you want to drop to your knees.

And you probably would have, had he not spun you around and pulled you to sit on his lap. Charles could feel how wet you were as you soaked through your underwear and onto his bare thigh. He used one hand to force your legs apart as the other found your neck, not yet applying any sort of restraint but it was only a matter of time.

You were so focused on what Charles had in store for you that when he gave you a second to compose yourself, you found that you were staring directly at your own reflection. There was a mirror across from the bed. Charles wanted a show.

The sight of you settled on his thigh, his hand around your throat as the light caught the bulging muscles in his arm almost made you cum again. He was watching you, eyes glued to yours in the reflection.

“You’re going to ride me, chérie, understand?” Charles raised his lips to your ear, dragging his teeth over the lobe and you shivered in response. You could see his sly smile in the mirror, “You’re going to watch yourself as you get off just from my thigh.”

All you could do was nod. You weren’t in any position to argue, nor did you want to.

So slowly, you started rocking your hips back and forth atop his leg, clenching where you could to feel any bit of friction. You found a steady pace, one that seemed to suffice as Charles watched silently, jaw locked and eyes never leaving yours.

You wished you didn’t have your underwear on still, but that was half of the tease. Charles knew how desperate you were to feel his hard thigh against your folds, bringing you to the edge, but he also knew that you wouldn’t last if that was the case. He needed you to work for it.

He grabbed your chin and roughly turned your face towards him, temporarily pulling your eyes off of the mirror.

And then he was kissing you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue diving inside of your mouth like he owned it. His suppressed groan only encouraged you to rock your hips faster, which you did. The ache between your legs was borderline painful as you became overstimulated, desperate to find that second high so soon after your first.

Charles wasn’t going to help you at all. The most he did was trail his hand up your body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your sensitive nipples until you cried out against his lips. Your body had been tense since you first stepped into his hotel room and now you were feeling all of your energy being sapped. And he hadn’t even fucked you.

“Please,” your helpless whisper against his lips earned you a wicked smirk in response.

“Please what?”

His dick was rock hard against you and you wanted it inside of you. It wasn’t fair that he was making you wait for it when you knew he was just as desperate to fuck you.

You hadn’t even noticed you stopped moving until Charles landed a light slap to your cheek, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

You fell into that rocking motion again. His grip on your breast was tight and it took all of you not to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you either had two choices. Look at him or look in the mirror.

You opted for the mirror, looking at how dishevelled you were. Faded mascara under your eyes. Red marks on your neck from where Charles held his grip. The girl in the mirror was desperate for a release, swaying back and forth on Charles’ thick thigh.

It was the worst possible time for Charles’ phone to start ringing.

“Leave it,” your voice almost caught in your throat, but you were in no position to be making any demands. Charles kept one hand on you as he reached backwards, grabbing the phone he had left on his pillow before you showed up.

The glint in his eye was unmistakable. His smirk, mischievous. Usually Charles didn’t have a problem letting his calls go to voicemail, but he wasn’t about to do that and you knew why when you caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name on the caller ID.

Your heart sank to your stomach, but Charles sliding his hand towards your core was a good distraction.

“Don’t,” now you were begging, but for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t answer it, please.”

“It could be important,” Charles’ tongue slid across his teeth. “I suggest you stay quiet, mon amour.”

And then he answered it, bringing the phone up to his ear, “Carlos, what’s up?”

You probably could have stayed quiet had Charles not dropped his hands past the seam of the red lace once more. He wasted no time in rubbing his fingers over your clit and you inhaled a sharp breath, watching him with worried eyes through the reflection.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” you could hear Carlos through the receiver. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your staggered breathing, “but you don’t know where Y/N is, do you?”

Charles looked so calm and collected as he answered. You wanted to slap the smug expression off of him, “No, why would I know?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you how believable he sounded. Charles knew how to lie, he did it frequently throughout your relationship. This was the first time you were part of his lie.

And then he slipped his finger inside of you again, something that he wasn’t originally going to do, but with Carlos calling, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He wanted you to squirm, to make a sound, to do anything that Carlos would hear and leave him questioning when he hung up the phone.

You brought your hand to your mouth to silence yourself and Charles’ devious smile only grew.

“She went out for a walk a while ago and she isn’t answering her phone now. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

You had completely abandoned your phone in your jacket pocket. It was sitting right by the door to the hotel room, forgotten about.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charles plunged a second finger inside of you and started to scissor them. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you could taste blood. Charles wasn’t going easy on you, he wanted you to be struggling right now.

You had stopped rocking, trying to gain a little bit of control as Charles kept you angled against his chest to keep his fingers in you. He wanted to feel you dripping all over his thigh. He wanted his fingers to glisten when he pulled them out.

“She could be lost-”

“Mate,” Charles cut him off harshly, simultaneously picking up the pace with his fingers. He so badly wanted to tell his teammate that you were safe, in good hands, falling apart on top of him. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re better off without her.”

Leave it Charles to degrade you to your boyfriend while he rammed his fingers inside of you so hard you could feel it in your stomach.

Carlos, bless his soul, you didn’t deserve him, scoffed into the phone, “Just let me know if you see her, okay?”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, meeting your stare in the mirror and taking a second before answering, just to bring you a little bit closer to the edge. Your legs were shaking, you could feel yourself climbing closer and closer to your release. Charles’ fingers in you, the attention he was giving your clit, the way he stared at you like he was challenging you to say something while he was on the phone, all of it was overwhelming in the best, and worst, ways.

There was no singular thought in your mind except his fingers, and how good they felt, and how badly you wanted to cum. You clenched your walls around him and Charles momentarily forgot that Carlos was waiting for a response. The quietest groan passed his lips and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, will do,” Charles couldn’t hang up faster. He threw his phone to the side and focused all of his attention on your pussy. Dragging his fingers through your folds, rolling his thumb over your clit.

With his other hand finally free, he raised it to your neck once more. You barely had time to take a breath before you could feel the sides of your windpipe becoming constricted under the pads of his fingers. The lack of oxygen gave you a headrush. Charles was taking complete control as you continued to sit on his lap and fuck his fingers for the second time, all while watching in the mirror.

“You’re the worst,” you spoke through clenched teeth, dragging your hand up to tangle your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

Charles was unaffected by the words he had heard so many times before, “I told you to be quiet.”

A gasp left your mouth when he tightened his grip on your neck. You still attempted to find your voice “You- fuck, you didn’t want me to be quiet,”

He chuckled, “You’re right.”

His abuse on your clit became heavier as he pulled his fingers out of you agonisingly slowly. He nudged his leg against you, instructing you to get back to riding his thigh, you weren’t supposed to have stopped.

“I can’t help it that I love the sounds you make for me,” he was practically growling. “I wanted Carlos to hear, he’s probably never heard them before.”

You stayed quiet, feeling all logic leave you as it became increasingly harder to catch your breath or keep your eyes on him.

Charles loosened his grip for a split second, just to give you a break, “Answer me when I talk to you. Carlos doesn’t know how to make you feel this good, does he?”

You shook your head, stammering out a quiet, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” his hand tightened around your throat, constricting your airways once more.

The only sound that filled the room was your occasional whimpers between breathless moans of pleasure. Charles continued to praise you quietly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked getting off from riding his thigh. It was the praise combined with his suffocating grip that brought you to edge but it was the way he feverishly rolled his thumb over your clit that pushed you over.

You came undone on his lap, your panties absolutely soaked as your pussy convulsed while waves of pleasure coursed through you. Charles let go of your throat and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, pulling on his hair as you rode out the rest of your high.

Charles waited a few seconds before taking your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, it was one of those rare gentle moments you two shared between rounds.

“You think you have one more in you?” He asked, barely moving his mouth from yours. You couldn’t speak, but you could nod and you felt his lips curve into a smile, “Good girl.”

He flipped you around and got you situated at the top of the bed, your head falling back onto the pillows. Charles finally discarded the last bit of red lace you wore, they were absolutely ruined at this point, and he pulled his briefs off as well.

If you had the energy in you, you would have reached for him, attempted to give him a half-assed hand job or possibly taken him in your mouth, but all you could do was lay there and watch as he fisted his hand around his already hard cock.

Charles pushed your legs apart until you were on full display for him. You were staining the hotel sheets with how wet you were, not like either of you cared.

None of this mattered, it was all fucking stupid. The way the two of you ended up crawling back to each other after eight months of moving on was stupid. The way you found yourself desperate for him to fuck you after fingering you twice was stupid. The way Charles wanted to stare at you just a little bit longer because he knew this opportunity would never come again was stupid. All of it.

Charles shifted towards you, dropping his body on top of yours but using his arm to keep himself propped up. You could feel the tip of his dick run through your folds, teasing you, because that’s all he seemed to know how to do.

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Charles whispered, staring down at you with a look that was filled with lust and loss, a combination you hadn’t seen before with him.

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” you retorted, not about to take the sole blame for the situation you found yourselves in.

“I’ll always let you in.”

There it was. The sprinkle of good hidden beneath the cascading tsunami of bad.

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, swallowing when he inched his cock into you slowly, taking his goddamn time because he knew how much you hated it.

“I mean it.” Charles’ voice was hoarse as you watched his features tighten. He pressed his forehead against yours, sliding out again right before you could feel all of him. “We could have been good together, Y/N, we could have worked through our problems. Instead you ran directly to Carlos.”

You didn’t entertain that idea for a second. The two of you would have never been on the right terms. Years of couples counselling couldn’t fix what went wrong. You were each other's worst nightmare, your own individual walking red flags that should have been avoided at all costs.

But that was Charles’ favourite colour and you looked the best in it.

“Carlos loves me,” you said, which was most definitely the wrong thing to say as Charles dragged the tip of himself over your centre again.

He laughed, of course he laughed. Carlos loved you and yet here you were, about to let your ex-boyfriend, Carlos’ teammate, fuck you because you couldn’t work out your issues in a healthy way.

“And where is he now, hmm?” Charles asked, eyes darting all over your face. “More importantly, why aren’t you with him, chérie?”

You didn’t have an answer. Which was better for Charles anyway. He didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind about what was to come next.

With no warning, and a quick snap of his hips, he rammed his dick inside of you. Despite how many times he had fucked you before, you never seemed to get used to his size. Charles stretched you out, making you gasp in relief of the feeling of finally being full. You loved his fingers, but they just didn’t compare.

“Carlos can’t fuck you like I can, that’s why,” Charles answered his own question as your nails grazed his back before clenching onto his bicep. He kept at this steady pace for less than a minute, watching as your face twisted in pleasure, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out suddenly. He would always fucking do this.

“Charles,” you groaned, mostly due to annoyance but your tone carried a delicate plea. That’s what he wanted after all, for you to beg for him. You swallowed your pride, you had no choice, “Please.”

“Please, what?”

You were throbbing for him and his dick teasing your entrance did nothing to help.

“For the love of God, Charles, just fuck me already.”

That was as close to a beg as he was going to get.

Charles slammed back into you, so hard and fast that a scream left your throat. God you hoped these walls were soundproof. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out.

Your body couldn’t take it after already coming twice. Your legs shook beneath him as you clawed his back, digging your nails so deep into his skin you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood.

Charles knew your body, he knew what angles to go from to hit all the right spots. Searing pleasure mixed with the pain from overstimulation had you helpless, but this was what you wanted.

You looked up at him, recognising the familiar animalistic stare in his eyes. Charles reached above you to grip onto the headboard, his pace never faltering. You don’t know what came over you as you brought your hand to his cheek, but you watched as his gaze softened for that brief second.

Charles liked it rough, but you still craved that bit of tenderness to balance it out. Even as you took your anger out on each other, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. You wanted to swallow his breaths and pretend that for a minute, everything was fine.

You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him before you could think twice about it. His tongue fought yours and you felt his thrusts becoming unsteady. A sound emerged from the back of his throat as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow and you swore you could have came for a third time right then.

Charles dropped his face to your neck when he felt himself starting to experience something other than lust and jealousy. He didn’t want to be craving you again, he didn’t want to fall back into this cycle.

“I fucking hate what you do to me, you know that right?”

“I know,” you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, body quivering when he kissed the spot below your ear. “And you know I hate you, right?”

“Oh I know,” He accentuated his words with a particularly hard thrust that had you reeling and it was only a few seconds later when you were seeing stars for the third time that night.

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. Almost like the entire world around you paused while waves of euphoria crashed through your entire body. Charles continued to fuck you through your high as you screamed his name, holding his body tight against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him as you shook with pleasure. Everything about you felt numb as Charles continued his violent thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall. He didn’t plan on slowing down, desperate to fuck the literal living daylight out of you for one last time, before you had to return to Carlos.

His dick twitched inside of you, followed by a string of French and English expletives under his breath against your skin. And then he was cumming too, releasing everything he had inside of you.

His body shook before he collapsed on top of your already exhausted body. Your heavy breaths were synchronised as you loosened your grip on his hair, switching to gently twisting your fingers through the dark strands instead.

Charles hummed into the crook of your neck and you braced yourself as he pulled out, wincing at how empty, and sore, you suddenly felt. You half expected Charles to stand up and go to the bathroom to give you the opportunity to leave without saying anything. You wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was blunt and told you to go back to Carlos.

But he rested his head on the pillow next to yours after pulling the covers over your bodies. He then turned your face gently so he could admire you and your post orgasmic glow. All lust behind his eyes had faded, replaced by something else now. Something you were never able to put a name to, something you once convinced yourself was love.

It was longing. A yearning desire for what used to be, what could have been. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You knew the right move would be to get up and leave. You fucked your anger out. Carlos was worried sick about you. You needed to leave.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Not as you watched Charles’ eyelashes flutter softly until they closed, his hand still resting on the side of your face. You turned slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, and climbing out of bed did cross your mind.

You probably would have, had Charles, in his half-asleep state, not muttered, “Stay.”

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep as well, the two of you facing each other throughout the duration of the night. At one point, his hand found your waist and that’s where it stayed. Charles lovingly touched you more in his sleep than he ever did while awake.

You could have stayed in that bed for hours with him, but you had a rude awakening when you heard your phone ringing from the bedside table. Charles groaned, having woken up too, but he just waved the call off, letting you deal with it.

Your eyes were still shut when your hand fumbled around the surface next to you until you found what you were looking for. You barely registered what you were doing or what time it was as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

You cleared your throat, “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Carlos saying your name in response jolted you awake. Your eyes widened when his accent flowed through the phone, the concern evident in the way he said your name.

“Carlos,” you sucked in a breath. “I-, I’m sorry, I was out-” you didn’t even know what time it was. You were struggling to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t go back to the hotel room, something that he would believe, but nothing came to mind. “I didn’t- I mean-”

None of what you were saying made any sense, but as it would turn out, you didn’t need an excuse. There was a more pressing issue at hand.

His heavy breath had your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and you couldn't have prepared yourself for the next words to come out of his mouth.

“Why are you answering Charles’ phone?”

this is so long im so sorry, if you made it this far..see u in hell

masterlist here

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #holllandtrash #nsfr #im so sorry #f1 requests #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader

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briancampbell0706 · 8 months

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Comprehensive vs. Third-Party Insurance: Which is Right for Your Campervan?

When it comes to insuring your camper van in the UK, one of the crucial decisions you need to make is choosing between comprehensive and third-party insurance. Each option has its benefits and considerations, and understanding the differences can help you determine which type of coverage aligns with your needs.

Comprehensive vs. Third-Party Insurance: A Guide for Camper van Owners

**1. Comprehensive Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: Comprehensive insurance provides a high level of coverage, encompassing damage to your camper van, third-party liability, and additional benefits like theft, fire, and vandalism protection.

Benefits:

Camper van Protection: Comprehensive insurance covers repairs or replacement costs for damages to your camper van resulting from accidents or unforeseen events.

Theft and Vandalism: This coverage extends to theft or vandalism incidents, offering financial protection for losses.

Peace of Mind: With comprehensive insurance, you have broader coverage, providing peace of mind during your travels.

**2. Third-Party Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: Third-party insurance covers damages and injury claims made by third parties involved in an accident with your campervan. It does not cover damage to your own vehicle.

Benefits:

Legal Requirements: Third-party insurance is often the minimum legal requirement for campervan owners in the UK, ensuring compliance with regulations.

Cost Savings: Third-party insurance typically comes with lower premiums compared to comprehensive coverage, making it a more budget-friendly option.

**3. Temporary Campervan Insurance:

Coverage Explanation: For campervan owners seeking temporary coverage, options like temporary campervan insurance provide flexibility for specific trips or seasonal use.

Benefits:

Customized Coverage: Temporary insurance allows you to tailor coverage based on your needs during specific periods.

Cost-Effective: If you use your campervan sporadically, temporary insurance can be a cost-effective solution.

Conclusion: Choosing between comprehensive and third-party insurance for your campervan involves weighing your priorities, budget, and the level of protection you desire. While comprehensive insurance offers extensive coverage, third-party insurance may suit those looking for a more budget-friendly option. Additionally, temporary campervan insurance provides flexibility for tailored coverage during specific periods of use. Ultimately, selecting the right insurance type ensures that your campervan adventures are not only enjoyable but also well-protected on the roads of the United Kingdom.

#camper van temporary insurance #campervan insurance temporary #short term campervan insurance #temp campervan insurance #temporary campervan insurance #temporary insurance for campervan #temporary motorhome insurance

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spidersophie · 1 year

Text

COWORKERS IN LOVE

lando norris blurb

lando norris x mclaren racing engineer!reader

writing & social media extras

a/n: english is not my first language, i wrote it in a rush of inspiration, so there might be some mistakes — if so, don’t be scared to correct me in the comments!

update: thanks @ryntro for giving this fic a proper title<3

"well done, lando, what a brilliant weekend for you and mclaren. another podium of the season, and the first ever win in your career. how are you feeling right now?" will buxton asked in his post-race interview, pointing a microphone towards the british driver.

"oh my god, mate, i don’t even know what i should say" lando exclaimed, grinning like a little child that just got a new toy. "i’m quite overwhelmed by the crowd and all the emotions, so i don’t think i’m able to say anything more than i’m so happy to be in this place, and to score my first ever f1 win in silverstone, alongside the people i love and an amazing team."

"sounds like you were really enjoying today’s racing. in the commentator’s booth everyone was pointing out the brilliant communication between you and your racing engineer. was that one of the keys of today’s result?"

"yeah, definitely," lando smiled even wider as will mentioned y/n, "even though she’s new into this role, i can already tell she was born for this. she’s doing such a great job, working with her is a pleasure, i hope for more podiums and wins with her by my side, i love her- i mean i love working with her" lando corrected himself quickly, but not quickly enough for will not to hear his whole rambling and not quietly enough for the camera man not to record his whole speech, including the l bomb.

"shit, i wasn’t suppose to say that, was i?" he asked partially to himself, partially to charlotte who was standing behind him with a panic rising in her eyes. "i guess that’s all for today" he added, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, meaning that yes, indeed he should end that interview.

"do you hate me?" that was first question lando asked y/n as he walked into the mclaren’s motorhome. "fuck, i can’t believe i actually said that. you’re definitely mad at me. i won’t be surprised if you quit your job by the next race weekend, cause it’s kinda awkward, considering we’re meant to stay on professional terms."

"lando norris, can you just stopped walking circles around and try to calm down?" y/n grabbed brit’s wrist, forcing him to look at her. "i’m not mad, more like surprised, cause we haven’t really decided what we’re gonna do with everything that’s started happening between us. and you know, i didn’t really expect hearing i love you in the middle of an interview, but i guess i’ll live with that." she lifted lando’s hand and placed a quick kiss to it. "we’ll figure it out, okay?"

"okay," lando stepped towards y/n and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer towards his chest,"so that means you’re not going to resign?"

"as long as zak doesn’t mind," y/n said, inhaling the familiar scent of lando’s hoodie. "but no more l-bombs from you in the middle of interviews. let’s give poor charlotte a rest."

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scuderiasundays · 1 year

Text

time after time

summary: years of yearning ending in a fiery release 🧨 written with lennon stella's cover of "time after time" (one of my all-time favorites) on repeat!

words: 1315

a/n: those b/w milan photos gave me the final push i needed to get this out into the world! the first time i've written anything this long so i would appreciate any and all feedback 🫶🏼

September 2012

"I bet you could convince my mom to let me go." It was a picturesque night in Madrid as the words slipped out of his mouth. Gathered around a table adorned with colorful tapas, Carlos and his friends celebrated his and Y/N’s birthdays over Gambas al Ajillo and pints of Estrella Galicia. Sat across from Carlos was Y/N, his best friend who he had grown up alongside. The aspiring Formula 1 driver had been away for months, leaving behind his beloved hometown. Tonight, their tight-knit group had unanimously agreed to refrain from discussing anything related to motorsport, but Carlos couldn't help but come up with hypothetical situations that ended in successfully persuading his mother to allow him to race in Macau, a city an astonishing 10,497 kilometers away.

Would Y/N ever gather the strength to say no to those velvety brown eyes? The evening had quickly gone by, and Carlos and Y/N bid farewell to their friends, commencing their walk back to the Sainz residence. “Mama, look who I’ve brought home.” Reyes’ face lit up upon Y/N’s arrival at the front door. If ever a motherly instinct surged within Reyes, it was when she witnessed the two little ones growing up, sensing deep down they were destined to end up together. Reyes had been like a second mother to Y/N and had always gotten her a birthday gift of her choosing. “So, what shall it be this year?” Reyes beamed. “I want to use this year’s wish for Carlos, if that’s alright. He’s worked tirelessly this season and it would kill me if he didn’t get to race in Macau.”

“Carlitos put you up to this, no?” Reyes chuckled. Drawing Y/N into a warm embrace, she assured Y/N that Carlos could race at the Macau Grand Prix, so long as he stopped pressuring his best friend to speak on his behalf. To make up for her son’s foolishness, Reyes allowed Y/N to blow out the candles on the birthday cake she’d made for Carlos since she had virtually used up her birthday wish on him. Y/N closed her eyes, silently praying that this would be the year Carlos would come to his senses and realize she’s been madly in love with him this whole time.

July 2020

"You're not coming to Mallorca this summer?" Y/N could sense Carlos’ frustration seeping through the phone. It wasn't that she didn't want to go, of course she did. Summers in Mallorca were pure bliss. The refreshing gazpacho Reyes prepared, the laughter-filled board game sessions with Carlos' grandfather, and the exhilarating late-night padel matches with Carlos, Ana, and Blanca. There was cause for additional celebration this summer as Carlos had made it through the treacherous F1 silly season unscathed, securing a seat at McLaren. However, a mixture of the demands of residency and an unspoken truth kept Y/N from wanting to spend even a single moment with the man she had termed “Summer Carlos.”

Summer Carlos was carefree, bronzed, and exuded warmth. Summer Carlos was the Carlos who had drunkenly kissed her three summers ago, leaving her heartbroken when he acted as though nothing had happened the following day. The memory still stung, and Y/N wasn't sure if she was ready to face those emotions once again.

July 2022

Caco, Carlos' older cousin, had graciously invited Y/N to join them at the Silverstone Grand Prix. After managing to secure a weekend off from work, Y/N was euphoric escaping the sterile confines of the hospital. As she walked into the motorhome, a mix of emotions swirled within her. It had been months since she had last seen her best friend. Her job kept her tethered to the emergency room, while Formula 1 had taken Carlos across the globe.

The initial words that escaped Carlos' lips were, "You look pale, like you could use some Mallorcan sun." Y/N couldn't decipher whether he genuinely wanted her there or not. The uncertainty lingered, leaving her unsure of where they stood after all this time apart.

Eager to avoid being in anyone's way, especially Carlos', Y/N decided to take a stroll around the paddock. Lost in her thoughts, she ran into Lando, Carlos' former teammate, who recognized her immediately and approached with a friendly smile. "How've you been, Y/N? We miss you over at McLaren.” Y/N had tended to Lando after his Eau Rouge crash during qualifying in 2021, forging a close bond between them.

A faint smile appeared on Y/N's face as she replied, "Maybe I'll seek refuge at McLaren's hospitality this weekend since it seems like Carlos doesn't want me here." Lando chuckled in his characteristic way, the sound putting Y/N at ease. "You and I both know the man is terrible at expressing his feelings. He's probably just yearning for you because you've been too busy saving lives. Trust me," Lando reassured her. "I'm running late for a meeting, but I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Y/N's mind was filled with curiosity, trying to make sense of Lando's words. Carlos pining for her? It seemed impossible, given their history and the distance that had grown between them. Yet, a flicker of hope ignited within her, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Carlos' aloofness than she had initially assumed.

Y/N's phone buzzed, and her heart skipped a beat as she read Carlos' message: "You and me in my driver's room now." Her hands shook as she knocked on the door, waiting for his response. "Come in," he replied, and as she entered, she couldn't help but notice how he made the fiery Ferrari red his own.

"You can't just waltz back into my life whenever you feel like it, Y/N. Race weekends are sacred to me, and you showing up out of nowhere is a distraction. It's not like you even care about me or my career anyways. When was the last time you watched a race, hmm? Dr. Y/N is always too busy at the hospital."

Y/N wouldn't allow Carlos to lash out at her like this, not after all the sacrifices she had made. Countless sleepless nights on call, choosing to stay awake to watch Carlos race in distant cities. Collecting every article featuring him since his karting days, carefully preserving them in a special scrapbook. Being there for him in his darkest moments, answering late-night calls when the pressure almost crushed him.

"You can't push me away that easily. We both know I've always been there for you, to the point where I didn’t even know who I truly was when you reached Formula 1 and left Madrid," Y/N said. "I only bury myself in my work to avoid facing the emptiness that hangs over the city when you’re not around."

Carlos felt a pang of pain as he witnessed his best friend break down in front of his eyes. Had he truly misunderstood everything all along? Y/N's words pierced through his heart. "I’m all yours. I always have been," she said, her tears dampening her sleeves.

In an attempt to console her, Carlos whispered softly, "Don't cry, princesa. Mama will kill me if she finds out I made you so upset."

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle through her tears. “Well, go out and win this race for me, and I'll promise not to snitch.”

“For you, anything,” he said.

“And for the first time in Formula 1, Carlos Sainz is victorious! He wins the British Grand Prix!” The electrifying announcement filled the air as Y/N ran from the garage to the podium. As Carlos emerged from the car, his eyes searched for one face in particular. With both hands, he gently caressed Y/N's face. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against hers, years of longing exploding in a passionate release. The two of them radiated a golden glow, as if destiny herself had brought them together, time after time.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fic #f1 x you #carlos sainz fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz angst

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chrisevansonly · 11 months

Note

Oh, what are Matteo Leclerc's greatest fears? And how'd his parents react when he gets a nightmare because he fears that he will disappoint them?

(you can answer this with the format you see most fit 😊 i absolutely adore this series already and cannot wait for more)

this little note at the bottom made me smile thank you love! let me answer this in a little headcannon format 🤍

Matteo being a generally anxious kid has a few fears and one of them is crowds. Yes despite his father being in F1 and the boy being used to the energy and chaos that is the paddock on race weekends, he doesn’t always handle them the best.

Usually he’s in your arms or Charles’s if he can be, and you often spend a lot of time in Ferrari Hospitality or Charles’s motorhome

Matteo is also afraid of the dark, he has two nightlights in his room that give him enough brightness to see which helps with his fear, you and Charles don’t know where that’s from but you make sure to support him through the fear and help him work on it!

Another thing he fears is thunderstorms, Monaco can get pretty bad ones, and as soon as the first crack of thunder hits he’s already in your room and snuggles between you and Charles.

In terms of nightmares if he ever does get one you’ll know because you can hear his little sniffles in the hallway before he opens your door, he’s only ever had one where he’s screamed himself away and you and Charles in a panic rushed to his room

He will come to your side fist as to not bug his father his eyes usually teary and frightened

“maman h-had bad dream c-can i stay here?” he’ll mumble softly

You never say no, allowing your little boy to climb into bed and settle between you and Charles, who usually will wake up and roll over to cuddle Matteo to his chest softly whispering reassurances in his ear

If Matteo is ever scared or has a nightmare he’s really good at being vocal about it so you and Charles always know how he’s feeling and how you can figure out to best support him🏎️

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formulapookie · 1 month

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Under the stars

rosquez

they aren't good, not even on speaking terms as of now, not been on fucking terms for a while, but the lingering presence of vale is something heavy to Marc right now.

Of all people it was his side of the garage the one glued to that neon yellow monstrosity of Bezzecchi's garage.

And Vale wasn't fucking shutting up, constantly talking to his rider and telling him how to correct or change a certain something in a certain corner.

He was sick of it, hearing that pointy voice on the other side of the thin wall and not being able to see him.

For how much of a shield or shell he ould build there would have always been a little crack that let Vale through his armour into his chest.

Nestled there like a virus, ready to attack.

He gets up and exits the garage, he needs space, air, quiet.

There's a place where he could go, and even if it is, was, their place it's not like Vale is going to go there.

They didn't even look at eachother earlier in the morning at breakfast.

Or well, Vale didn't look at him, Marc's eyes glued themselves to his curls more than once, always looking away before being spotted.

He breaths in the humid air of the ring, the smell of fuel and the sound of engines managing to calm his mind, untaunted by Vale's voice.

"Where you listening to my tips as well? Could benefit you after the stupid mistake you pulled yesterday in the sprint"

Oh fucking hell. Can't he just have ten minutes to himself?

"I think I manage well for myself Vale, I remind you I have eight Championships, how many does your kid have?"

"No need to insult my rider thank you"

Marc doesn't answer, he doesn't want to, they shouldn't even be talking, let alone discuss.

"You don't talk to me for two years and the first thing you tell me after all this time is an insult, what a way to do things Vale"

"More of a provocation than an insult"

"Oh fuck off Vale what do you want? Me not to fight your precious champion too much next year? To let him win if he wants? To gift him the championship like you think I did with Lorenzo?"

He shouldn't be like this on front of Vale, it's too much skin exposed, too many thoughts said.

He knows Vale compared him to a shark that bites harder if he smells blood, but right now Vale would be much more adequate to the metaphor than him.

"As I already said Pecco doesn't need you in the garage to show he's a Champion, so no, didn't come here to talk to you about him" "Then what do you want? I came here to not hear you talking and you managed to disturb me anyway" "You came here and didn't think that maybe I could come here too?"

Marc's heart skips a beat, a breath gets caught in his throat. Why does it have to happen to him? Why does Vale manage to always sting him when he's not prepared?

"I don't see why you would" "Don't act like an idiot Marc, you know why"

No he fucking doesn't, because Vale has not uttered a word to him for two whole years, they haven't woken up in a random motel together in a year and a half, so he doesn't fucking know why he would.

"No"

Vale scoffs, walking closer to him, now there's roughly a meter between them.

"It's our place no? You called it like this after the first time we came here, you told me we should've had an 'our place' in every track"

Marc didn't think he remembered, words spoken by a lovestruck kid between the sheets of Vale's motorhome, words that still cut too deep even now.

"I agreed that we should've because we couldn't spend too much time in my motorhome and not raise suspicions. And then we went there again for the whole weekend, you sat on that edge and told me you wanted to see the stars, so I shut off the lights on the building and you watched them"

Why is Vale doing this? Why is he talking about that night with that fondness in his voice? Marc doesn't like this, he hates it he - he can't hate it.

He's caught in a trap of lasers and blades and he doesn't know how to get out from the maze that is Valentino's speech.

"I still don't understand why you would come here"

Somehow Marc manages to keep a steady and neutral voice, despite his will is to cry at the memory Vale just revived.

"Because I knew you'd be here" it's the first time tonight, this year actually, that they make proper eye contact, staring into each other's souls for a seconds which seems and eternity.

Marc feels like drowning in the ocean Vale's eyes are, Vale feels like he's wondering in an ancient forest if he looks long enough.

"And I feel like I owe you an apology. Fuck ok more than just an apology, I owe you so much more"

After years. Years. He spent wondering if he would ever hear these words they're finally here.

"I was wrong. About a lot of things, especially those regurding you and your - you saying you were a fan of mine, that I was skeptical whether or not you had posters of me at your house, despite I went there and saw them. I was an asshole. I wanted to hurt you as much as I could and I said the most stupid and hurtful thing I could think of, I knew that if I publicly doubted of you then you would’ve let go”

“You’re apologising?”

Marc doesn’t believe it, can’t believe Vale is actually saying these words to him, in reality, right here right now.

“Yes. And don’t get me wrong, I’m still angry about the 10th, but I was a dickhead about it and a whole other bunch of things”

There’s a tension in the air, uneasiness between them.

It’s not normal to be in this situation, both vulnerable and bare in front of the other.

It’s like they’re saying “my heart is here, if you want to stab it do it now, i’m defenceless”

“Marc I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just needed to say I’m sorry because I’ve been sorry for a long time but I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared to look stupid or weak. I don’t care now, I just had to make sure next year there’s no resentment in the garage”

Marc has tears in his eyes.

He wants to let them all out, wants to curl up in a ball and let himself be consumed by years of torment and suffering.

“I was a kid Vale. I - fucking he’ll I was Celestino’s age. What would you do to someone if they did what you did to me to Celestino?”

“Probably I’d punch them. Probably I’d keep them as far as possible from him and tell him to never interact with them again. I am not an idiot Marc I know I have no right to expect you to forgive me. But I just ask for no resentment”

“I forgave you already. I forgave you the week after you said those things about me. A week after you called me a liar I had already forgiven you. I just wanted to hear these words back then”

Vale is honestly dumbfounded. Because yeah he knew Marc didn’t hold the type of grudge he held for him but.

Forgiving him after a week? That was just insane.

“You have really zero self preservation sense eh? That’s why you race like that still”

“I forgave you because I was in love with you Vale. I hoped that if I just loved you enough, that’d be good for the two of us, I thought I could love enough for both. Thought I could get over you going me those nasty looks and just calling me when you wanted to fuck. Because I had enough love for two”

And Vale didn’t think he could feel more shitty than he did when he had that mental trip months ago when he realised how actually cruel he had been, and how he had to apologise.

He hadn’t told Uccio, obviously.

Or Pecco. Or Luca. Or any of the people he knew.

“I thought you felt - ok not the same as me but I thought you hated me at least a little bit. I am sorry. Really. I know I should’ve apologised long ago, that this I’m doing now it’s basically useless but you had to hear it from me”

And now tears just can’t be held by Marc anymore.

He’s not crying desperately but tears stream down his face, quietly, like a mountain river.

“I know I should tell you to fuck off and go back to you garage and tell you I don’t give a fuck about your apologies”

Now Marc is breathing normally again, eyes locked with Vale’s, there’s not a layer of lies in it.

“But I just can’t. I want to be honest with you, I was - still am - hurt by what you said. But I am so fucking stupid and still love you so much and I forgive you”

Vale wants to cry too now, Marc hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still that lovestruck kid he fell in love with ten years ago. And it sickens him, because he can see who he hurt.

“Can” Marc’s voice gets interrupted by a sob, light now completely down at the track, just the moon making its appearance.

“Can we watch the stars Vale? I miss them”

“Si. Ill go turn the lights off, you stay here and we watch the stars ok?”

Marc nods, he’s scared, of course he’s scared.

He’s scared Vale will run away again, that he would leave him alone up there, that he will make fun of his helpless reaction with his friends.

But Vale takes 5 seconds to shut off the buildings lights, leaving just the many stars to light up in Marc’s eyes.

“Im sorry. I will go away if you want. When you want”

“No Vale no please. Please don’t go. Not again I don’t want you to go away again. Watch the stars with me”

And Vale does just that, sat beside Marc, heads touching, thousands of words still to say, millions of apologies still to be done.

But now, in this fragment, it’s just them.

Them and the stars.

#alice writes #rosquez #uuuuuu I don’t know I was falling asleep and decided to write something #got this out of my brain #its rushed? yes #it’s probably bad? also yes #but eh got no time to check it so enjoy #:))#motogp rpf #motogp fic

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vinvantae · 1 year

Text

Unmasked

Part 8/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 3.6k

**********************************************

Yourusername tagged Charles Leclerc in their story

It was the first race of the season and the official ‘hard launch’ of yours and Charles’ relationship, from this point you were allowed to start posting clear images of each other - but you had been begging the team to have a proper meeting about your reveal but Mattia kept pushing it, delaying and delaying until it was too ‘inconvenient’ because of the race weekend and the focus would now be on the upcoming race instead of you. Instead, you were told to just keep your head down and focus on your performance on and off the track as both Charles’ girlfriend and as Thirty.

Your jaw felt tight as you pulled your Ferrari polo over your head, Charles humming softly behind you as he gathered his things for the day - in seemingly much higher spirits than you. The car had performed well during testing and so his hopes were high for a good result in the first race. “Are you nearly ready to go, y/n?”

“Yeah, of course. Just need to grab my bag… I dropped most of my stuff off at the motorhome yesterday.” You smiled, taking his hand as he offered it to you. “You ready for quali?”

“I’m actually buzzed.” He said, grinning and pulling you closer. “Starting the season off with a new car and with the best girl at my side?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Charles, I’ve been at your side for years.”

He playfully narrowed his gaze, lifting his hand to cup your jaw - leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You know what I mean, don’t be a tease. I’m sorry that they keep dismissing your meeting, I know it must be getting frustrating.”

“You have no idea.” You sighed softly. “And I want to talk to them about us as well… I don’t know if they’ll want to handle this differently now there’s real feelings involved.”

“Well, either way I’m here for you. I know I say this a lot but I like you and regardless of what they say I can see a future for us.”

“Those are some big words, Charles… you really think about the future like that?” He could tell your voice was timid, that you were unsure.

The Monaco native simply nodded. “Not to scare you off or anything. I know it’s quick to say it but I’ve always felt strongly for you and this whole situation has just cemented it for me.”

“It doesn’t. I’ve just… I’ve just been alone for so long it feels strange to have someone who wants to stay in my life long term…”

The fact your admission didn’t shock Charles broke his heart- having the career you did, didn’t allow people to get close and those who were lucky enough to be in your life, like your father, were nowhere. He wanted to be that person for you, the person you could always turn to even if the rest of the world seemed to turn its back.

“Well, you’re stuck me with me for as long as you want me around.” He spoke softly, almost as if he was scared that his voice could break you if he raised it.

You gave him a gentle smile before the two of you head out to the paddock for qualifying day - they wanted to use you and Charles coming together as a distraction from the Thirty rumours, so you complied. You knew biting back would just result in them pushing your meeting further and further but you just couldn’t afford to get sued either. You were under their thumb, so for now you had to let them play their cards before you showed yours.

Although you knew yours and Charles' relationship was F1’s worst kept secret, you were surprised just how many people seemed to care when you stepped into the paddock hand-in-hand. Your teammate seemed used to it, chatting idly away to you as you made your way to the Ferrari motorhome but you couldn’t help but sense every single pair of eyes that fell on you.

“Look at the lovebirds, so cute!” You turned at the sound of Carlos’ voice - his Redbull teammate not too far behind. “I approve of this pairing.”

“That fast, huh?” You teased.

“I’m just surprised it took you so long.” Max chimed in. “We’ve all known each other for nearly 2 decades at this point… so if anything, this is slow.”

“Carlos didn’t know us.” You corrected. “It was really nice to spend time with everyone in Bali though, I felt really welcomed.”

The two Redbull drivers both gave you kind smiles, your childhood friend went to speak again but they were ushered away by their coaches - wanting to get them ready for free practice. You would have to disappear into your mask for the next few hours, put on your persona - visor down, race suit on. Charles gave you one more kiss on the cheek before ushering you into the motorhome, making it seem as if you were simply a couple spending some time apart. But you were subtly guided into your driver's room to get ready yourself.

You just wanted this weekend over with.

*********************

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You and Charles sandwiched Max on the grid when the race finally rolled around, the Champion’s teammate beside you on the second row. You knew Redbull were going to be tough to beat, their car seemed significantly better than last year and with Mercedes seemingly struggling the fight was going to be between you and them. Your third championship was within reach and you were going to fight tooth and nail to get it - not letting your relationship with Charles sway that. Sure, you wanted him to win his first but at the end of the day, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that feeling again.

It was dark as you sat in the cockpit of your car, eyes flickering across the track in front of you as the team worked on your car. Your race engineer repeated race strategy over the comms to you and you simply nodded along - tapping your fingers on your steering wheel.

Charles walked past your car and patted the halo lightly, sending you a smile before heading to his own car - race helmet hanging from his fingers. His fireproofs clung to his figure and you couldn’t help but study his figure; his broad shoulders into his little waist - it was crazy the way some of these men were built and the Monegasque was no exception to that. There were many times during your trip that you wanted to throw caution to the wind and just have your way with him. But you needed to behave, as much as you wanted to enjoy these new feelings with him, getting another Championship was at the front of your mind.

As the cars circled the track in the formation lap, your mind cleared of everything - it was the first race of the season and you were determined to make it the best one yet. If you were going to take your helmet off some day soon, you had to make sure everyone remembered why you had the seat in the first place. You deserved to be here and you had to prove that to yourself and everyone else.

You pulled up to your grid spot, angling your car in just a way to get the best start. And with one more deep breath, the lights began to count down.

“It’s lights out and away we go.”

The first race of the season and you’d got a 1-2, the absolute perfect start - it couldn’t have gone any better, especially with both Redbull cars not finishing the race. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Charles wrapped you up in a hug - his strong arms squeezing you tight. “We did it!”

You held in your laughter knowing there were cameras nearby that could pick up audio and gave him a squeeze back. A warm touch was placed on your shoulder and you turned to see the kind eyes of none other than Lewis, the Redbull DNF meant he was joining you both on the podium - he’d been one of your biggest rivals the last few years but he always had nothing but kind words to say about you, even in during your toughest battles.

“Amazing race today, Thirty. Just saw a clip of your overtake on Checo before he went out, so smooth.” He smiled, his gaze flickering across your helmet.

It took everything in you not to thank him, so you simply gave his hand a firm shake. He gave you an understanding smile and went back over to his team. You could see the media hoping you’d come over for a post-race interview but before you could even think about it you were ushered straight inside to wait for the podium. Their fear you would reveal the secret was becoming larger each day, especially with the speculation - so any time they could get you away from the press they would.

“You didn’t say anything out there did you?” Your handler spoke up, you shook your head. “You didn’t do anything that would give you away?”

They were the standard questions he asked after every race, but more than ever they irked you - you’d been doing this for years, they just never trusted you. You bit your tongue and nodded again, wanting nothing more than to take your helmet off and run out on the podium.

“Good. Now, you know the next bit - go out, get your trophy, champagne and then back to your room.”

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, the worst part of it all was not being able to celebrate with your team after the race. Share your achievement with the people who had helped you get there. It broke your heart. Sure, they had Charles’ win to celebrate this time but when it had just been you on the podium you watched them all cheer without you. This time however, you were caught a little by surprise when on the podium, Charles’ hand came up to rest on the side of your helmet - it was just for a moment but the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. And with no nearby mics to pick up any audio he leant in and whispered.

“Champagne in your room after this.”

You were so glad to be wearing your helmet because your cheeks flushed as dark as your race suit. God, I wish I could kiss you right now. You were brought back into the moment as your visor was coated in champagne by Lewis, the Brit smiling big as he tipped the bottle over your helmet. You returned the favour by spraying him directly in the chest - savouring the moment of celebration before you were locked away.

It was then you decided to put your toe across the line, as the three of you stepped off the podium and out away from the cameras - you turned to Lewis, approaching him before your handler could haul you away. “Thank you. For everything… I-”

Before you could get another word out, your handler grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away - not before you managed to get a look at Lewis’ reaction. His face had split into a big smile. “Thank you as well!”

You were practically shoved into your room by your handler, who slammed the door behind you. “What the fuck was that? You know the terms of your contract, y/n. Are you trying to get sued?!”

“All I said was thank you.” You said calmly, finally pulling your helmet off. “The media knows I’m a woman so what’s the harm in saying thank you to Lewis? I could still be anyone.”

His jaw clenched. “You better hope he says nothing or else this will have big consequences.”

He left the room in a huff when you didn’t respond, simply slumping on the sofa - letting your head roll back onto the back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you finally took a moment to yourself to be happy with your result. P2 in the first race of the season. If this is how the rest of it was going to be then maybe your third championship really was possible.

“Knock knock.” Charles pushed open the door just enough to come into the room with a bottle of champagne, locking it behind him. “As promised… felt wrong celebrating without you.”

Your teammate sat beside you, offering you the bottle of which you took a large sip. “That was, uh, cool what you did… with Lewis.”

“Could’ve fucked my entire career but-” You shrugged. “Honestly, fuck it. I’ve raced him my entire career… I would’ve said more if-”

Charles chuckled and draped an arm across your shoulders, letting your head rest against him. “You said plenty. You have no idea how much that meant to Lewis, he was absolutely buzzing. Giggling like a little school girl.”

That made you smile. “Oh, good… I really… I don’t regret doing it, I know Lewis understands what I’m going through - I trust him to keep his cool around the press even if I don’t have to ask.”

“Cheers to that.”

You tilted your head to look at him, his green eyes already directed at you. His hand came up once again but this time could rest on your skin - his thumb brushing across your cheek before he pressed a chaste but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you savoured the feeling, chasing his lips as he pulled back - just enough where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“...be mine?”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Am I not already?”

He scoffed playfully. “You’re such a tease, mon amour… please, be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Mhmm, pretty boy. Love when you beg” You giggled softly, pressing your lips to his. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Charles.”

You weren't sure what response you expected but he simply rested his forehead against yours, his hand still resting on your jaw - a small, soft smile on his face. “I really like you, y/n. And no matter what happens with your career, I’ve got your back. You’ve been through hell and back for this team and I won’t let them tarnish your reputation.”

“Thank you… and just for the record, I really like you too.”

A knock on the door summoning Charles to the media pen brought you both back to reality, and with one more kiss he left the room - allowing you to turn on the TV just in time to catch none other than Lewis in front of the camera.

“Congrats on your first podium of the season, Lewis, how are you feeling?”

He nodded eagerly. “Really good, I’m really happy - I know the Redbulls not finishing definitely played its part and we have some work to do with the car but yeah I’m very happy with the result.”

“You had some nice words for Thirty after the race, did they give you anything?”

You chewed nervously at the skin around your fingers but just as you predicted Lewis simply shook his head. “Nothing. They’re as elusive as ever.”

“Thank god.” You mumbled, finally deciding to strip out of your race suit and back into your polo shirt - putting your admin disguise back on before your handler finally decided to send someone to let you out of your room.

When you entered the garage, you started helping pack away - post-race was always the most frustrating for you. To blend in they insisted you do the extra work, but you were exhausted - you’d just done nearly 60 laps of a grand prix and then they expected you to do grunt work too? It was almost as if Charles could hear your internal monologue because he came up behind you, leaning across your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“My girl… let’s get you out of here, hmm?” His voice was low. “You’ve worked hard enough.”

You let out a sigh of relief, turning to face him. “You read my mind, my hero.”

He lent in and kissed you, his hand finding its home on your jaw - feeling bolder about his affections now you were official outside of the contract. You had almost forgotten that this had all started off as fake but was now very real. He wasn’t kissing you because he had to, he was kissing you because he wanted to. And you were still trying to wrap your head around it all - but while you did, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you locked eyes with your PR manager who gave you a thumbs up.

“I almost don’t want to tell them it’s real.” You scoffed lightly, taking his hand to tug him out of the garage. “Let them just think we’re really good actors.”

The Monaco native chuckled softly from beside you, squeezing your hand. You were hoping to escape from the paddock, so you kept your head down - your Ferrari cap blocking your face but alas, you were walking next to Charles bloody Leclerc so it was never going to be easy. He was very quickly distracted by some fans at the barriers, stopping to sign and take photos. You waited patiently, playing the role of a good girlfriend, but let your eyes scan the rest of the paddock.

You turned your head when you felt eyes on you - Lewis’ intense gaze had fixated on you from across the way as Bono spoke to him. The cogs turning in his brain were almost visible - like he was putting the pieces together. You gave him a shy wave and he gave you a two finger salute before nodding towards a small passage between two of the Mercedes motorhomes.

“U-Uhm, I’ll be back in a second, Charles.” Your boyfriend acknowledged you with a simple smile, allowing you to slip away towards the former Champion.

It felt bizarre, sneaking into a darkened alleyway with Lewis Hamilton but you were intrigued by what he had to say. There was barely a foot between you as you stood with your back to the wall, his eyes studying you through long lashes. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“...it’s you isn’t it.” His voice was quiet, eyes boring into yours. “You’re Thirty.”

You pressed your lips into a line and he raised a challenging brow, daring you to deny it. “How did you figure it out?”

His smile alone was worth it. “I could never forget your voice… I can’t believe it’s really you.”

There was a different look in his eyes, as if he was really seeing you for the very first time - his rival, his fellow driver. “I… I have so much I want to say to you, y/n. Maybe we can have a proper talk sometime? I’ll give you my number…”

You were collecting Champion’s phone numbers like pokemon cards at this point - after giving you his number and making him text you so he had yours he placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, not too dissimilar from the one he’d given you after the race. “It was nice to meet you for real, y/n. Don’t be a stranger.”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath before you returned to Charles who had finally drawn away from the fans to offer you his hand - frowning a little when he saw the clearly exasperated look on your face. “Everything okay?”

You dragged him back to the car, letting out a deep breath - the driver still staring at you with concern. “Lewis knows.”

“...fucking hell. I saw him in the media pen, he didn’t say anything. Reckon you can still trust him?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t think I have a choice.” You chuckled nervously. “So that's you, Sebastian, Max and Lewis… Do you think anyone else is suspicious of me?”

“If they are, they’ve not said anything to me.”

The car park was slowly beginning to empty as the rest of the grid made their way to their cars and bikes. You studied each of them, Fernando, Esteban… Yuki… Valtteri… any one of them could suspect you but you’d never know. You let your eyes return to Charles who still had a worried look on his face, so you lent across and pressed a deep kiss to his lips - this time he was the one chasing you as you pulled back; his chest rising and falling and the green of his eyes almost hidden in its entirely by the depth of his pupils.

“How about…” You said, feeling breathless yourself. “...we go back to our hotel and celebrate our podium.”

His eyes widened a little. “You mean-”

“Oh, I mean…”

You lent in, your hand brushing up his thigh as you whispered absolute filth into his ear - you could practically feel his heart racing as you cupped the back of his neck to kiss him once again. Charles had to fight every urge to pull you into his lap and take you right here in the car park but you deserved more for your first time together. He moved back again and started the engine. you gave him a playful smile.

“Take me home, Winner.”

****************

Gif credit @yesloulou

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