#the way carlos keeps bouncing into charles??
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p1girlfriend · 1 month ago
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boobs or ass?– f1 grid preferences ── .✦
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content: just pure delicious filth-flavored preference fun
lando norris ── .✦
🍑 ass. he’s obsessed. borderline feral. literally can’t keep his hands to himself. walks by? hand’s on it. hugging? squeezes it. sleeping? grabbing it like a pillow.
“i’m a simple man, okay. ass = peace.”
oscar piastri ── .✦
🍒 boobs. quietly obsessed. pretends he’s respectful but he stares so hard. loves watching you get dressed.
“i wasn’t looking.” yes you were. also loves lying with his head on your chest like it’s the best pillow in the world.
charles leclerc ── .✦
🍑 ass, but boobs make him soft. he’s biassed. ass? feral. boobs? romantic. likes to wrap his arms around your waist and just rest his chin on your shoulder while you’re braless.
“i love all of you, but this part… this part’s mine, non?”
lewis hamilton ── .✦
🍒 boobs. aesthetically obsessed. touch-starved about it. loves worshipping every inch of your chest during foreplay. but also?
“i just like how you feel. doesn’t matter where.”
carlos sainz ── .✦
🍑 ass. like… very. he can’t help himself. you walk in wearing shorts? game over. you lean over? he’s right there.
“don’t blame me. you’re the one who brought it in the room.”
daniel ricciardo ── .✦
🍑 ass. LOUD about it. talks about it. dreams about it. spanks it just walking by for fun.
“i’m literally your #1 fan. best seat in the house.”
gabriel bortoleto ── .✦
🍒 boobs. but in the soft, gentle boyfriend way. likes when you wear tanks, no bra, comfy vibes. lays his head on your chest and falls asleep smiling. also loves making you laugh and watching them bounce a little — he just won’t admit it.
franco colapinto ── .✦
🍑 ass. secretly obsessed. pretends to be polite about it but has zero poker face. you catch him looking? he just shrugs.
“can you blame me?” also wraps his arm around your hips possessively in public like mine.
max verstappen ── .✦
🍒 boobs. but like. intensely. it’s private. personal. loves watching you change slowly. touches them with reverence.
“don’t look at me like that unless you want me to stop being nice.”
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vitalverstappen · 4 months ago
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Man's Best Wingman - C. Leclerc
summary: they say dogs are a man’s best friend, but a certain dachshund may be man’s best wingman
pairing: Charles Leclerc x veterinarian!reader
warnings: none ( i mean use of y/n if you count that)
word count: 2.6k
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It was no surprise that Charles Leclerc adored animals, specifically dogs. So, when word spread like wildfire around Monaco that he had adopted Leo, it was only a matter of time before the duo showed up in your clinic. 
You had heard about Leo from the gossip mill - Charles had been spotted walking the dog around the streets of Monte Carlo, and the photos of the two of them quickly made the rounds on social media. The sight of the Formula 1 driver, usually so composed and intense, walking around with an adorable dachshund puppy had the whole city cooing with affection. 
You had been working as a vet for a few years now, as one of the only ones in Monaco, so you were no stranger to having a celebrity walk through your doors. In fact, you had Alex Albon walking through your doors practically every month with the zoo he had. But hearing your techs swoon at the fact Charles was in your clinic, made you question how big this guy really was. 
“Y/n, Leo Leclerc is in room four for you. He’s here for his routine exam. So far everything looks good,” one of your techs said. 
“I bet Charles looks even better,” another one called, overhearing the conversation. 
Your eyes rolled, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at their remarks. “Focus on Leo, not Charles,” you teased, though you knew their excitement was understandable. 
Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you grabbed your stethoscope and walked toward room four. You were a professional, after all, and your job was to make sure Leo was in tip-top shape, not to let the celebrity connection distract you. 
As you knocked lightly on the door, you heard a soft voice call from the other side. “Come in!”
You opened the door to find Charles sitting on the exam table, with Leo happily bouncing around at his feet. The little dachshund’s tail wagged furiously as soon as he spotted you, making a beeline for you as though he’d known you for ages. 
“Hey there, Leo,” you said, crouching down to meet the enthusiastic puppy. You pet him for a second before standing back up. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I’ll be your primary veterinarian.”
Leo’s little tail wagged even harder at the mention of his name, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the sight. His big brown eyes stared up at you, full of trust and excitement. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Charles said as he got off of the exam table. His smile was easy, and you noticed how much more approachable he looked when he wasn’t in his racing suit. “I’m glad to see you’re the one handling Leo today.”
You nodded, doing your best to focus on the task at hand, though your heart was pounding into your throat. “He’s a cutie. And I’ve heard a lot about him from the clinic’s gossip mill. Seems like you two are quite the duo.”
Charles chuckled lightly, glancing down at Leo, who was now sitting patiently at his feet, as if sensing the shift in attention. “Yeah, Leo’s been a good distraction for me. Definitely makes my life a bit more fun, and I think he’s a great companion for my downtime.”
You turned to Leo, picking him up and placing him on the exam table, where Charles once sat. “He’s got a lot of energy for a little guy. Looks like he’s been keeping you on your toes.”
Charles shrugged, the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. “He definitely does, but I love having him around. Plus, he’s a great way to relax after a stressful weekend, just walking him around and enjoying the quieter side of things.”
“Sounds perfect,” you replied, settling your stethoscope into place. “Let’s make sure everything is going well with him. I’ll just start with a quick check-up, get his vitals and make sure he’s healthy.”
You focused on Leo, quickly going through the routine exam. His heart rate was normal, his coat was shiny and healthy, and his eyes were bright. After a quick examination, you looked up at Charles. “He’s in great shape, Charles. No issues at all. He’s a happy, healthy little guy.” 
Charles sighed in relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried I might be doing something wrong.”
“Not at all,” you assured him, chuckling. “You’re doing everything right. It’s clear you care about him a lot.”
You scooped Leo into your arms and informed Charles you would be taking Leo into the back room to give him his shots. What you didn’t mention was that it was also an opportunity for all of the techs to fawn over the puppy. 
Once you brought Leo back into the exam room, Charles' eyes lit up, though you were unsure if it was at you, or the dog. You gave him a few instructions for Leo’s next few weeks, including a reminder to keep up with his vaccinations. “He’s good to go! Just a few follow-ups, but nothing to worry about.”
You bid goodbye to the driver as you guided him up to the receptionist's desk. There, you gave instructions on the next exam date. 
Charles had the day of the exam circled on his calendar the minute he got home. Sure, he wanted to be a good dog dad and pay attention to Leo’s appointments, but he also couldn’t wait to see you again. 
Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that since Leo had done so well, the follow up appointments that had been scheduled were only with the techs, not with you. He went through with the appointments, but in the back of his mind, he had to find a way to see you again. And thankfully, Leo gave him plenty of excuses. 
It all started when Leo ate a blade of grass. 
Now, Charles knew that eating grass wasn’t going to kill his dog, but he was worried it might make him a little sick… and he wanted to see you again. 
So, he scheduled an appointment.
As soon as you saw Charles and Leo’s names on the schedule, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You tried to shake it off, you were just doing your job, but there was something about seeing him that made you feel a little lighter. 
As the time drew nearer, you found yourself making sure everything was in order, the clinic bustling with its usual activity. Your techs were curious no doubt - they’d fawned over the duo when they took care of the dog’s follow up appointments, and definitely talked about the “celebrity dog dad” a little more than they probably should’ve. 
“Y/n, Charles and Leo are in room three for you. He mentioned Leo had eaten some grass earlier today, but so far, everything seems normal,” your tech informed you 
You walked towards the exam room, preparing yourself to see the driver and his dog again. As you entered, you saw Charles sitting on the chair this time, gently scratching behind Leo’s ears. The little dachshund’s tail was wagging, and he immediately perked up when he saw you, jumping down from Charles’ lap. 
“Hey, Leo,” you greeted, crouching down to pet the excited pup. “What’s all this fuss about grass, huh?” 
Charles looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N. Yeah, Leo decided to sample some grass this morning, and now I’m just a little paranoid.”
You chuckled, standing up to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Dogs eat grass all the time. Most of the time, it’s harmless. But let’s take a quick look just to be sure.”
You began your routine examination of Leo, checking his belly, feeling for any signs of discomfort, and listening to his heart. Leo seemed perfectly fine, happily squirming and wagging his tail as you worked. 
“See?” you said, glancing up at Charles. “He seems to be in good spirits. No signs of anything bothering him.” 
Charles let out a relieved sigh, but there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve just been overthinking it. But I’m still getting used to being a dog dad, you know?” 
You smiled warmly, meeting his gaze. “Like I said at our first appointment, you’re going great, Charles. Leo’s in good hands.” 
He looked at you with a soft smile, and for a moment, there was a brief pause in the conversation. It was like neither of you wanted to break the moment, but eventually, Charles cleared his throat and stood up. 
“Thanks again, Y/N. Seriously,” he said, giving you an appreciative look. “I’m glad I came in today, even if it was just for a little blade of grass.” 
“It’s no problem at all,” you replied, trying to keep your composure. “Take care of Leo, and we’ll see you for the next check-up.” 
But you saw him much sooner than the next check-up. 
Only a few weeks after the grass related appointment, your receptionist came into the back area, where you and your techs were prepping for surgery. You had a busy day ahead of you, with having back to back appointments all day, and the only break you got was your thirty minutes of lunch. 
“Mr. Leclerc is on the phone,” your receptionist began, causing a bunch of oooo’s from your staff. “He said that Leo stubbed his toe and wanted to see if you had availability for today.”
You paused for a moment, wiping your hands on your scrubs as you turned toward your receptionist. “Leo stubbed his toe?” you asked, trying to suppress a smile. You could hear the excitement in your staff’s whispers behind you, but you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much Charles’ calls were starting to feel like little breaks from the clinic chaos. 
“Yeah, that’s what he said,” your receptionist replied, her tone amused. “Should I tell him to hold on or that you’re in surgery?” 
You quickly ran through your schedule in your head. It was packed, but a stubbed toe? You could squeeze that in. You didn’t want to seem like you were too eager, but you couldn’t help but feel a little excitement at the thought of seeing Charles again. 
“I can take a shorter lunch,” you said, giving your receptionist a quick nod. “Schedule him for the last twenty minutes of that half hour.” 
Your receptionist raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she turned to make the call. As soon as the door closed behind her, your techs immediately leaned in, their eyes sparking with curiosity.
“You know you two aren’t fooling anyone, right?” one of them teased. “You’re excited to see Charles again.
“And he’s got to be wanting to see you if he’s making an appointment over a stubbed toe,” another one chimed in. 
You rolled your eyes, trying to stifle a grin. ‘It’s just a stubbed toe,” you replied, but your voice betrayed you, laced with a hint of amusement. “He’s just a concerned dog dad. Nothing more.” 
Your techs exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it. 
“Uh-huh,” one of them smirked. “A ‘concerned dog dad’ who keeps calling in for the tiniest little thing. Sure.”
“Maybe you should get him a frequent flyer card,” another suggested, grinning. 
You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth growing in your cheeks. “Focus, guys. You have things to do, remember?” 
They held up their hands in mock surrender, but you could still feel their eyes on you as you turned back to finish prepping for the day. 
When the status of Leo’s appointment changed to “arrived” on your computer, it took everything in you to remain calm and composed. The butterflies in your stomach only grew as you heard Leo’s excited barks from down the hall. 
Once your techs informed you that the Leclercs were ready to see you, you made your way to the exam room, trying to keep yourself steady with every step. When you opened the door, Charles was sitting there, looking as relaxed as ever, with Leo perched on his lap. 
“Hey there, you,” you greeted Leo first, just like you always did. “I heard you got a stubbed toe this time around.”
Charles chuckled, giving you a sheepish look. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But he seemed to be limping a little, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
You nodded, appreciating his concern for his dog. “It’s never ridiculous to take care of our furry friends,” you said, your eyes briefly meeting his. There was a warmth in his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. 
You got Leo up on the exam table, gently checking his paws and making sure everything looked good. As you worked, you noticed Charles’ gaze lingering on you - though this time, it felt different. His smile was softer, more intentional, and there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 
Finally, after checking Leo’s paw, you turned to Charles. “Good news. It’s just a little sore, probably from the way he landed. No major damage.”
Charles visibly relaxed, his tension easing as he gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that.” 
As you gave Leo a few gentle pats and wrote down the instructions for recovery, you could feel Charles’ eyes on you again. There was a quiet moment between you two, one that made the air feel just a little thicker, like there was more unsaid than spoken. 
“Thank you for always being so patient with me, and with Leo, and I appreciate you squeezing us in at the last minute,” Charles said, standing up to walk toward the door. He paused for a beat, then glanced back at you with a small but meaningful smile. “Would I be able to squeeze into your schedule again sometime, for coffee or drinks?”
You felt your heart flutter as the words hung in the air. It was the question you’d been waiting for, yet the reality of it still made your breath catch in your throat. For a second, you just looked at him, the familiar warmth in his smile making your pulse quicken. 
You tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t hide the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “I think I could make some time for you,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I’m not usually this free, but for you? I’ll make an exception.”
Charles’s smile widened, and you could see a spark of relief in his eyes. He stepped back into the room, the distance between you narrowing as he moved closer. “Tomorrow? After work?” he asked, his tone a little more tentative, as if waiting for your confirmation. 
You nodded, your heart racing a little faster now. “Tomorrow works. Let’s say, six?” 
He gave a small, excited nod, clearly trying to contain his enthusiasm. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up. I’ll make sure not to keep you waiting.”
You both stood there for a moment, the air thick with anticipation, before he gave a final smile and turned to leave. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
As he exited the room, Leo wagged his tail, clearly eager to follow. You watched him walk out, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. You leaned against the exam room table for a second, trying to catch your breath, before shaking yourself out of the daze. You still had a job to do, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the thought of tomorrow played over in your mind.
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ari-ana-bel-la · 5 months ago
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Could you please do Dad!Oscar introducing his little girl to the paddock
Baby Piastri
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The buzz around the paddock had been electric ever since the news broke: Oscar and Lily were bringing their four-month-old daughter to the Australian Grand Prix. Despite being young parents, the couple had embraced their new life with warmth and excitement. Their little girl, Yn, had become the sweetheart of the paddock without even setting foot in it. The drivers had only seen pictures of her, a tiny bundle of joy with Oscar’s soft curls and Lily’s bright, curious eyes.
Now, on media day, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. The McLaren garage was filled with anticipation as Oscar walked in, his hand entwined with Lily’s. In his other hand, he gently steered a stroller, carefully covered with a blanket to shield his daughter from the sun and the ever-present cameras. The couple made their way to a shaded outdoor table, Oscar making sure to park the stroller where Yn would be most comfortable.
Lando was the first to greet them, practically bouncing on his feet with excitement.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting forever to meet the little princess!” he said, crouching beside the stroller.
Oscar chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Lily. “Alright, alright,” he said, reaching down to gently peel back the blanket.
As the fabric fell away, the small group was met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping baby, her tiny fingers curled into loose fists. Her soft, chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, her breathing steady and deep.
Lando melted instantly. “Oh my God,” he whispered, as if speaking too loudly might wake her. “She’s perfect.”
He reached out, hesitating just before his fingers brushed over her tiny hand. “Can I?” he asked, looking up at Lily.
“Of course,” she said with a smile.
The moment Lando’s finger made contact with Yn’s tiny palm, her fingers instinctively wrapped around it. Lando let out a breath of pure awe.
“I think she likes me,” he said proudly.
By now, the other drivers had started to gather, their curiosity drawing them in like a magnet. Max, Charles, George, and Carlos joined, standing around the table, their faces softening at the sight of the tiny girl. Even Fernando, who rarely got excited about much outside of racing, was watching with a rare, gentle smile.
“Wow,” Charles murmured, leaning in slightly. “She’s even cuter in person.”
George chuckled. “You say that like she’s a celebrity.”
“She kind of is,” Carlos pointed out. “I mean, the entire paddock has been waiting to meet her.”
“She looks like a mix of both of you,” Max said, glancing between Oscar and Lily. “But I think she’s got more of Lily’s features.”
Oscar grinned. “Yeah, I think so too. She’s definitely got Lily’s eyes.”
As they all spoke quietly, keeping their voices hushed in an effort not to wake the baby, a small noise caught their attention. Yn shifted slightly, her tiny face scrunching up as she started to fuss.
Lily immediately reached for her, carefully lifting her out of the stroller and settling the baby onto her lap. Yn blinked blearily, her sleepy eyes scanning her surroundings as if taking everything in for the first time.
Then, her gaze landed on Oscar.
For a second, there was just silence as she stared at him. And then, her entire face lit up in a heart-melting grin, her little feet kicking excitedly.
The collective reaction from the drivers was instant.
“Awwwwww!” Lando practically squealed. “Did you see that? She loves her daddy!”
Oscar, completely enchanted, couldn’t resist. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her soft, chubby cheek. Yn giggled in response, reaching up with tiny hands to pat at his face.
Fernando smirked. “She’s already got him wrapped around her finger.”
Oscar didn’t even try to deny it. “Of course she does,” he said, smiling down at his daughter. “She’s perfect.”
Charles, who had been silently watching, finally reached out a hand. “Can I hold her?”
Lily glanced at Oscar, who nodded before carefully handing Yn over to Charles. The Monegasque driver held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his usual composed demeanor completely replaced by adoration.
“Bonjour, petite princesse,” he murmured, rocking her gently. Yn gazed up at him with big, curious eyes before giving him a tiny, toothless grin.
Carlos nudged Max. “I think Charles might cry.”
Max smirked. “I wouldn’t blame him.”
The group spent the next half hour completely enchanted, passing Yn around as they cooed over her, each driver getting their turn to hold her. Even Max, who insisted he wasn’t good with babies, found himself holding her carefully, his expression unreadable before he finally muttered, “She’s pretty cute.”
Lando took endless pictures, sending them to the group chat with captions like “New McLaren team principal” and “Future world champion spotted.”
Yn, blissfully unaware of the chaos she had caused, simply soaked up the love, babbling happily as her tiny hands reached out for anyone close enough.
As the afternoon went on, Oscar and Lily watched their daughter surrounded by love, their hearts full. They had always known that the F1 paddock was like a family, but seeing how much everyone adored their little girl made it all the more real.
“Guess she’s got a whole team of uncles now,” Oscar mused, his arm draped around Lily.
Lily laughed. “Yeah. And they’re all completely smitten.”
Oscar looked at his daughter, now resting contently in Lando’s arms as he whispered nonsense to her with the biggest smile on his face. He felt a warmth spread through his chest.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think she’s going to love growing up here.”
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open and I'm more than happy to write them.
-💙🦋
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fastandcarlos · 10 months ago
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When He Kisses You At The Paddock For The First Time : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction
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» Max Verstappen 
It was all adrenaline as Max came out of the car, an unexpected victory left him bouncing around, rushing over to his team. He couldn’t wait to greet everyone, however when his eyes landed on you, he felt urgency like never before. It was as if you were the only two people in the paddock as Max cupped either side of your face, pressing a kiss to your lips. You could tell he wasn’t thinking, however when he pulled back and still wore a wide smile, you knew he didn’t care anymore, more than happy to introduce your relationship to the rest of the world. 
» Lando Norris 
He was sure that there was no one else around as Lando found you hanging around at the back of the garage. As soon as he saw you he pulled you along with him to a hidden spot that he had found amongst some of the equipment. “Come with me,” he whispered, encouraging you to trust what he was doing. You thought nothing of it as Lando kissed you, however you soon found that you weren’t quite alone as you thought, turning around to find Andrea looking back at you both having been looking for Lando to brief him about the car, and now, scold him too. 
» Charles LeClerc 
It was all planned meticulously by Charles, with rumours beginning to spread about the two of you, Charles wanted to take back control. You walked hand in hand through the paddock, blocking out the cameras that followed you, and as you arrived at Ferrari, Charles pulled you towards him and gave you a kiss goodbye, leaving you in hospitality for a while. His smile was wide, full of pride as journalists fired several questions his way, deciding that the kiss did all the speaking for the two of you, and firmly established you as one of the most popular couples on the grid. 
» Oscar Piastri 
The day hadn’t quite gone to plan as Oscar returned to his driver’s room where you were, unable to get his head around where things went wrong. You kept a bit of a distance with some of Oscar’s staff around, but with how frustrated he was, he simply didn’t care anymore. “Love, come here,” Oscar told you, tapping the space beside him, wanting you as close to him as he could get you before giving you a kiss, ignoring the stares of his staff around you both who had no idea that that was the direction your relationship was going in. 
» George Russell 
Everyone knew how close you and George were, friends for years, it was no surprise to see you stood at the very front to celebrate George on pole with the rest of Mercedes. However as he walked over to you, you noticed there was a different look in George’s eyes. As he came over and took his helmet off, George placed his hands on your waist, lifting you up and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. There was a hushed silence around you, no one could quite believe the two of you had managed to fool everyone for so long, but George couldn’t keep his secret any longer. 
» Carlos Sainz 
As a new face in the Ferrari garage, you had a fair bit of attention from some members of staff, with a couple particularly interested in getting to know you. Carlos tried his best to ignore it for a while, but with jealousy snapping away at him he ended up walking over and pressing a kiss to your lips when he noticed that the guy was stood next to you. Carlos took you by complete surprise, but you’d seen the look in his eye often enough and knew exactly what hint he was trying to drop, silently walking away from you again as if nothing had happened. 
» Daniel Ricciardo 
His mind didn’t think as Daniel came back from yet another successful race and found you stood in the middle of the paddock. He was used to kissing you whenever he wanted in private, and seemed to forget that you weren’t in private momentarily. Daniel bounded over to you and pressed a kiss to your lips before hurrying to pull away. “Oops,” he muttered, realising what he’d done, feeling your hand hit against his arm, knowing that with so many people around there was bound to be someone who’d seen you both. “Well, at least everyone knows I’m taken now.” 
» Lewis Hamilton 
Neither of you were aware that you had been spotted sharing a kiss until Lewis was called into a meeting at the garage. He had kissed you at the very back of the Mercedes lounge, convinced that no one would be able to see you both, but when you’re as popular as Lewis is, someone is always watching. Although the team weren’t exactly impressed, Lewis didn’t care, the only person he cared about was you and making sure that you were alright. Luckily for Lewis, you were more than alright, relieved in a way that you didn’t have to sneak around anymore. 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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natailiatulls07 · 1 year ago
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I have to say, your Charles fics where he is/acts like a father are my favorite (the marguerite series and now the recent one) i'd love to keep seeing more ❤
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Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader
Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader
Summary - It's his home race, his family are there and his win; All through Marguerites eyes
Warning - Mention of Herve Leclerc's death, mention of alcohol
A/n - I'm back oops! Sorry I haven't posted in a month, to cut a long story short alot of shit happened in my life and I took an unexpected break lol. Also @nikfigueiredo thank you babes <333
(The blue bold text is Sky f1 commentary)
Marguerite
-
26.05.2024
The atmosphere in Ferrari hospitality was tense. Well everywhere was tense but espercially in Ferrari. Charles Leclerc was leading the Monaco Grand Prix, leading his home race.
Somewhere special to him and his loved one. He grew up on these streets and to win is something he and his late had grown up dreaming.
"There's his family watching on; Alexandra is partner, Pascale is mother and of course his adopted little sister Y/n, who is the daughter of the late Jules Bianchi."
I could feel the Sky camera panning towards me and the rest of the family but I was too stressed. Alexandra was stood beside me and I didn't need to look away from the large screen to know that she was fiddling nervously with her bracelets, much like how I was fidgeting with long strands of my hair.
I watched as the laps ticked closer to 78, one by one slowly. It was really an out of body experience. Part of me knew there was people around but I couldn't care less for them, keeping focused on Charlie.
"And for the first time in 93 years, this favoured race is won by one of their own. Charles Leclerc wins the Monaco Grand Prix to achieve his dream; Victory in his home race!"
Only then did I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Once again the Sky camera is focused on me and Alexandra, but we don't care.
A soft touch shocks me out of my awe and whipping my head around, I see Alexandra looking at me with a excited smile.
"He did! Oh Marguerite, he did!" Her voice is surprisingly smoothing compared to the rest of hospitality. I just echo that same smile before wrapping my arms around her neck as I let out a shaky breath.
Behind Alexandra stand Pascale who captures my eyes, she has small tears on the edge of her water line. It wasn't hard to understand why she had tears in her eyes. I remember the day that we were told Herve Leclerc passed away, of course I was young but I could vividly remember it.
Pulling away from the hug, I feel a sudden surge of energy and excitement. In completely contrast to during the race, I start bouncing on my feet and laughing eagerly.
Turning to random people on our way out of the Ferrari hospitality. "Charlie won the race! His home race!" In return I would get sweet smile and laughs of joy.
-
"We can see Y/n Bianchi once again, I think she definitely rivaling Charles Leclerc in excitement right now. Not that long ago, we saw her excitedly talking to Jenson which was a funny thing to watch!"
We make it down to the track in time for the podium. Most of our trip down to the track was spent with Pascale and/or Alexandra pulling me away from restlessly talking to people about his win.
I look up at the podium, I watch as Carlos, Oscar and then Charles all make their ways to their respective steps. We watch as they are handed their trophies and as Prince Albert gives Charlie multiple thrilled hugs.
During the Monegasque national athems, I notice how his eyes floats down to us. Instantly the smiles on both mine and his face widens, finally feeling joy together. After the first athem, I join the Ferrari crew and staff in happily singing the Italian national athems.
"You know we need to get Y/n on to do something with the Sky f1 team because she seems like a sweet young lady and we know that fans her age love her!"
-
Whilst waiting for the team debriefing to finish; Me, Alexandra, Pascale, Arthur, Lorenzo and his girlfriend, Charlotte, were all given the now empty Ferrari hospitality to relax.
"Can you believe?! Oh I'm so happy for him!" Unlike everyone, I couldn't hold in my excitement and I was frantically bouncing in my spot between Charlotte and Alexandra. It didn't help that I was running on close to no sleep and some random energy drink.
Everyone just laughed shaking their heads softly. "Oh my god! We need to celebrate! Maybe even my first ever drink!?" I look over towards Pascale, she was practically like a grandmother to me.
She just laughs, giving me a knowning look before replying to me. "That's up to Charlie, don't ask me..."
"Up to me? What's up to me?" His voice comes out of no where, we all quickly turn to face the entrance and there he was stood still in racing suit.
I don't wait a second before rushing over to him and jumping into a hug, something we haven't done in a few years. "You did it! You did it!" I can feel the rumble of his laughter as his arms tighten around me. "I'm so proud of you!" I whisper gently.
Unknown to me, everyone in the room is tearing up. All so proud of Charlie but just in awe of the sweet moment between him and the most loving teenage ever.
"Also can I have my first drink tonight whilst we celebrate? Please!" With a pout on my face, I look up to his face but as soon as he shakes his head with a smirk, my pout turns into a frown and everyone around us just laughs knowingly.
-
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moonstruck-poet · 8 months ago
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I Missed You
Pairing - Carlos Sainz x fem!reader
Summary - You were finally attending a race after being away from him for so long. But your work didn't seem to leave your back resulting in a very pouty boyfriend.
Warnings - None!
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Your foot was impatiently tapping the ground, eyes trained on the screen, more specifically on the red Ferrari as it was completing the final three laps.
"Come on, come on," you muttered under your breath as you watched Carlos maintain the lead quite well. It was only the last lap to go and your heart was hammering uncontrollably.
Your fingers played with the wire of the headphones around your neck, one of the buds in your ear to notify you about any important calls from work. Despite wanting to devote your entire attention to the race, you couldn't just excuse your job especially since there was important intel to be acquired.
"Yes- Yes YES!" The scream erupted from your lips as soon as you saw the beautiful car bearing the number 55 finish the final lap.
He had won. Your man had just won.
"CARLOS SAINZ TACTICAL BRILLIANCE! CARLOS SAINZ, THE WINNER OF THE SINGAPORE GRAND PRIX!" Came the announcement and the garage roared in celebration.
You couldn't help it as a laugh full of absolute pure joy burst out, emotions welling up as you saw him stand on the hood of his car, his arms up as he soaked in the cheers. His head held high as he punched the air in victory.
And finally his car was parked and he jumped out, lunging forward to hug his team and they adored him back. Squeezing his shoulders and ruffling his hair as everyone yelled. Suddenly the engineers made their way and pushed you, their lady luck to be greeted by the winner.
As soon as his eyes landed on you he stilled before a radiant smile lit up his entire face and he pulled you right into his arms. Carlos buried his face into your neck, neither of you cared about his sweaty form and you squeezed him gently.
"You did it," you laughed, unable to keep the emotions at bay as you pulled away and cupped his cheeks. "You did it, love, you won!" You managed through your shaking voice and he mirrored your expressions as he nodded frantically, eyes closed as he leaned into your palms.
"I won," he whispered and chuckled when you pressed your lips to his cheek, lingering for a few seconds before looking at him proudly.
"Go get the trophy champ," you murmured in his ear and he grinned, smoothing out his wild hair and embracing him once more you said, "I love you so much, Carlos".
"I love you too, cariño. I'll be back soon I promise," he gently kissed your forehead before pulling away to make his way to the podium. He shot you a last, adoring look and a wink as he turned around to celebrate, making you laugh.
The Ferrari squad quickly hurried over to the podium and you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning to see Charles le Clerc there.
"Oh hey Charles," you smiled and immediately brought him in a hug. And when he released a long breath you knew the boy needed it. "You were so good, you know? I'm so proud".
"Thank you," he said, accepting the compliment though you knew he was feeling slightly down. "He did well," his eyes shifted to the podium and you copied his actions.
"He did," you smiled. A giddy sensation infecting your entire soul as you watched him stand in the first place and accept his prize, bouncing on your feet in anticipation for him to lift it up.
And lift he did.
A huge roar went through the crowd as Carlos lifted the trophy in the air, a bright, gorgeous smile on his face as he admired the beautiful sea of red. A chuckle leaving his lips as he heard fans yelling 'Smooth Operator' at the top of their voices. His happiness only seemed to increase tenfold when his glistening brown eyes met yours, his heart feeling heavy as he saw the love in them.
He smiled, that damn Carlos Sainz smile and you were a goner. Your insides quite literally skipped a beat as he watched you with such intensity before his attention was diverted. You cheered and clapped as he was showered with champagne, laughing at the drivers all messing with each other.
And that's when there was a vibration in your ear making you confused before realising that you had gotten a call and you couldn't help but groan. Pulling out your phone to check the name you sighed, it was your operation leader and you had to answer.
"Hey Charles," you whispered and he immediately gave you his attention. "I've got a call from work and it's urgent so unfortunately I have to take this. Can you just tell Carlos that I'll be in the driver's room?"
"Yeah 'course I'll do that," he nodded and you thanked him before walking backwards, scanning every inch of your boyfriend's elated face before turning your back on him and running back inside to attend the meeting.
====================================
Carlos Sainz had finished his post-race interview and was tired down to the bone. His suit hung low on his waist as he looked left and right in search of his girl. It had been too long, he had been away for too long and the only person he wanted to see was not visible anywhere.
He walked to his room, wanting to check there before calling and alas, his efforts bore fruit.
"Oh amor," he muttered and rushed across the lengths of the room, wasting no time at all to pull you in a well-deserved hug. "God I missed you," he sighed and tightened his grip, wanting to be impossibly closer to your body.
He was however met with silence making him pull away to look at you with a frown. You just gave him an apologetic smile and waved your phone in front of his face. He saw the name and deflated ever so slightly, trying to be subtle but of course you noticed.
"Just give me some time," you replied, feeling bad as you looked at his form.
Carlos could feel a frown again beginning to show on his face but he shook it off, instead offering you a tight-lipped smile, "It's fine, my love. Your work is important".
"So are you," you murmured without hesitation and gave him a chaste kiss, stroking his cheeks before having to pull away to share your inputs with the team. "Lo siento, corazõn," you mouthed but he just waved it off and urged you to pay attention before heading over to shower.
The small smile that was present on his lips faded away as he stepped inside the bathroom, not wanting to feel down over such a silly issue. You had your own priorities for god's sake, how can he expect you to give him attention 24/7? It was already more than enough when you had travelled in your meagre holiday of 3 days to see the race and he couldn't even let you work.
He groaned internally, having the urge to smack himself for being sulky over such futile matters. You had a job and a very important one too, the protection of Spain, his own country literally rested on your soldiers. You along with your team were the agents responsible in handling matters of utmost importance and urgency.
But it had indeed been too long and he just missed his girl, his other side came floating in. Was he wrong to want your attention after spending weeks apart, both of you being so busy that you barely had time to call each other every night.
Carlos sighed as he changed into comfortable clothes and dried his hair, not wanting his mood to spoil the rest of your evening he put on a natural smile and went looking for you... Only to find you completely engrossed in your laptop. Headphones on with fingers furiously typing as you spoke with the team.
You looked up at the noise of a door shutting and offered him a bright grin, looking at him looking all cozy in a Ferrari hoodie and sweatpants. You pushed aside your documents, placed the laptop on the table and patted the place beside you, internally happy at how excited he seemed.
He didn't waste another second before occupying the space and immediately resting his head on your lap making you chuckle softly, understanding that all he wanted at the moment was your attention and it made you feel bad that you couldn't provide him with every bit of it.
While keeping a keen ear on the ongoing conference, you took a break from typing and carded your fingers through his dark, fluffy hair and he let out a deep breath of relaxation.
"Gracias hermosa," he said softly, eyes twinkling with affection and he raised his arm slightly to caress your cheek, gently pulling you down to finally kiss you properly after so so long.
"Are you here??" A sudden voice blared through your headphones making you jerk away as you addressed your superior.
"Yes, sir. I think I'm in agreement of your decision regarding the operation. We've received enough intel and our sources have also bought the confirmation. So I suggest there shouldn't be any further delays".
As you spoke rapidly, your brain worked to formulate strategies, analysing every bit of data you had received. In doing so your attention had once again drifted away from Carlos and unknown to you, his face turned down.
The universe was really testing his patience today. All he wanted was to spend some quality time with his girlfriend, to kiss her, hug her and just be with her. But he was being denied these simple things.
And as though somebody was really testing him, you took off the headphones, rubbing your ears as they had dug into your head.
"Are you done?" He questioned quietly, voice low so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere. His brown eyes were wide as they bore into yours, searching them intently and you were about to reply when your phone rang. Again.
"I-" you wanted to explain as he got up from your lap. The minute he faced you, your heart sank.
"You're busy, amor," he said softly. "It's okay you do your work, I won't disturb you," he offered you a small smile and began walking away and you stood up immediately.
"Carlos-" you began, walking quickly to hold his arm making him turn. "Please I honestly did not think it would be so busy, I just- lo siento-"
"Shush," he cut you off and cupped your face, his kind gaze staring you down but you couldn't brush off the slight loneliness present in them. "I said it's okay, no? It's your job, you have to do it. You finish it off I'll be outside. Nobody to disturb you, hermosa," he laughed, but even a stranger could have picked on the void in it.
Before you could say anything, he pressed a kiss to the hand that was holding his before backing off and exiting the room. In doing so your heart had torn as you watched the door shut, the phone in your hand ringing again.
====================================
After a rather tedious work of another two hours you were at last free. Rubbing your eyes and shutting off the laptop you dug your fingers in your hair, massaging it in the process.
"Carlos," was your immediate thought as soon as you got back to your senses. And you quite literally sprinted out of the room, being greeted by some engineers as you hurried past them, your head moving around searching desperately for the one man who had simply craved you all day.
"He's near the track," Riccardo spoke and you thanked him, quickly rushing over to the racetrack.
Since you had been sprinting, it took you nothing less than two minutes to find him, sitting on one of the raised platforms and staring at the sky. You ran towards him, wanting to fix every mistake you had unintentionally made.
He heard the sound of feet running and looked around, his body language considerably low.
"Hey love," you greeted tentatively, walking closer to him and helping yourself up.
"Hi," he replied back, short and simple.
"Carlos?" You tried, wanting him to look at you and he did, for a fleeting moment before looking up at the stars again. "Hey come on, look at me," you whispered, gently holding his jaw to turn him fully.
But he still wouldn't meet your eyes, a small pout on his lips as he played with his fingers.
"Please mi vida. You're mad at me aren't you?"
"No".
"Yes you are. You're upset".
"It's not your fault," he shook his head and once again turned his body away from yours.
"Why're you upset then, love?"
"I just- I wanted to spend all my time with you today, especially since I won the race. But well you had work. And no I don't blame you, I don't expect you to throw your life away because of me," he murmured and your heart clenched as you took his hand in yours. "But I just.. wanted to be with you".
"I'm so so sorry," you could only apologise as you brought his hands to your lips. "I know what you're feeling and I'm so sorry I couldn't make it better. I got so caught up in everything that-"
"No please don't say that," he cut you off nervously. "I told you it's not your fault. You couldn't help that you were busy".
You nodded not knowing what else to say as you merely looked at him, wanting him to do something, anything.
"Carlos," you whispered and that was all it took for him to throw his arms around your waist and bury his head in the crook of your neck making you stumble backwards. "I'm all yours now".
"You promise?" He muttered, not caring in the slightest of how childish his question sounded. Not giving a single fuck that he was feeling extremely vulnerable.
"I promise, amor," you nodded with a smile and he pulled back, looking at you with the same pout though this time, it was clear that he was pretending and you felt your insides warming up.
"Carloos," you dragged out his name in a teasing manner, poking his cheek and trying to catch his eye. "Carlitos?" That nickname was his soft spot and you knew it all too well. And as expected he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face like a wildfire, igniting yours in the process.
And at long last you grabbed the front of his hoodie to pull him in a much needed kiss. A proper, passionate kiss. And he responded with as much, if not more vigour as he held your waist, anchoring yourself to him. Your arms wound around his neck, bringing him closer as you took the lead before feeling the need for some oxygen.
"Wow," he said, breathless as he glanced at you, cheeks a little flushed.
"You liked that?" You smirked, resting your forehead against his while your hands played with the ends of his hair.
"I loved it," he answered, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. "I missed you so much, cariño".
"I missed you too. You have no idea how difficult it was being home and just watching you through nothing more than a screen," you confessed. "I'm lucky I haven't gone insane from the amount of work we've been doing everyday".
"I'm so proud of you, you know?" He told you gently, eyes sparkling with fondness that he reserved for you and you alone. "You're doing an incredible job, love. I'm so proud".
"Thank you," you smiled at his honesty. "But it can never come near to the amount of pride filling my chest every time I see you buckled up in the car".
He laughed like a teenager drunk on love, red coating his cheeks as he embraced you, resting his cheek on your shoulder, his soft hair tickling you. While you chuckled, instantly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him close.
====================================
Thank you so much for reading!
Let me know if there are any requests <33
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boiohboii · 2 years ago
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Hi! Could you do like toddler Leclerc reader, like she’s the baby sister of the Leclercs and even tho they are quite a lot older than her they love her more than anything and are very protective and doting over her, especially Charles
The three big bad wolves (leclerc!toddler!reader)
N.B: dear anon, thank you for the request......i had this in my inbox for a while, I hope you like it.... WARNINGS: not proof read, don't focus too much on age and stuff, baby leclerc having a crush on mr carlos sainz (who doesn't), I feel like I could've written the ending in a better way of sorts..... if I missed anything please let me know....
masterlist
The three leclerc boys had fallen in love in 2016, Lorenzo was 20, Charles was 19 and Arthur was 16 when they saw their first love. It was when YN Leclerc was born. Her lips parted as hiccups left her small body, her hands laying on her mother's chest and her eyes twinkling as she looked up at her three brothers.
The three boys didn't think their love for yn could be deeper, could be so much more than their hearts dancing at the sound of her giggles, so much more than sitting on small chairs, having their nails painted bright colors and their faces smeared by their mother's make-up. They didn't know how far their love can go, how deep their feelings could be but when tragedy struck the Leclerc household the three boys swore that they'd not just die for their baby sister, they would kill for her, they would tear down worlds for her.
YN coming to races had been rare, Pascale rarely leaves her baby girl out of her sight, she always wants her within her eyesight scared of what the world might do to her little baby.
So when Charles made his way with YN on his hip, some would argue that she is too old for this, her face hiding in his neck and arms wrapped tightly around him feeling safe in her brother's arm. Lorenzo and Arthur were with them as well, just behind Charles, trying to get yn to look at them but to no avail.
"Is that baby leclerc?"
A British voice rang through the hallway as Lando ran up to Charles, pushing Arthur out of the way to take a closer look at yn, stretching his hand to squish her chubby cheeks.
"Hey!"
Lando's protest was loud and clear as soon as Charles moved yn out of his hands way
"Stay away from my sister norris"
Lorenzo's sharp tone scared the youn brit into moving away, allowing Arthur to squeeze himself back into his rightful place.
"Yn baby"
"Yes 'tur"
The sound of her small voice had all 4 men melting, wanting to wrap the little girl in a blanket and keep her away from everything bad in this world.
"Come here"
Arthur extended his hand so that he can carry yn, but Charles maneuvered away from his younger brother refusing to let go of yn
"You have to let her go man, you need to change anyway"
"No no, just for a bit"
"Charles!" His team principle came within their eyesight, looking at charles as he pouted, wanting to have yn in his arms for a bit more.
Not wanting to get fired Charles moved yn into Arthur's arms as Lorenzo kept running his hand through her hair upon seeing her yawn.
"Hey, little leclerc!"
All tiredness disappeared from yn's face as Carlos Sainz jr. entered the room, yn had a crush on him and it wasn't a secret. Her mother and Carlos found it cute, it was a silly little thing that she'll grow out of, her brothers however hated it they didn't want to entertain the idea that she should even have a crush before being 25 years old.
"No, go away" Lorenzo spoke as he moved in front of yn, trying to block her eyesight but it was too late.
"Enzo, moovee" yn whined as she tried to push lorenzo away from her so that she could see the Spaniard
"Come on man, it's just a baby crush, it'll go with time" Carlos reasoned as yn stretched her arms towards him and started fussing in Arthur's hold, wanting to be held by the oldest driver.
"Hey yn" Carlos greeted as he bounced her lightly on his hip, the two words making the little girl blush, a smile on her lips so wide that she would later complain of her face hurting
"Non! Not again! Carlos!" The heavy sound of racing boots running closer reached everyone's ears as they looked towards charles
"Leave yn alone! Give her here"
"Non! Charles, I want to stay with Carlos" tightening her grip onto carlos' shirt, yn looked at Charles, challenging him and making sure that he sees her little hands on his teammate's shirt as a way to make it clear that she's not going anywhere.
"Mon ange!" Charles whined as he stomped his feet
"Honestly, which one of you is the little kid?"
"Zip it norris"
"Be nice to landy" yn frowned at her older brother, reaching one of her hands towards Lando's hair as she patted it as a form of apology making all three leclerc brothers annoyed
"This is just unfair" Arthur complained as he watched his sister have a puppy crush on two drivers, they really shouldn't have introduced her to any of the drivers.
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eroselless · 1 year ago
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PATO - FIVE
series masterlist | part 3 | part 4
[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]
warnings: pregnancy, angst, breastfeeding, spanish and google translated french
note: Yikes, the way I wrote charles is lowkey toxic, mb lol. This part reminded me of a picture i saw ages ago about how men and women deal with breakups, dudes moving on immediately and end up being sad after a few months and women being sad for a bit and then moving on after a few months. 
Anyways, shoutout to my baby sisters for being my main inspiration behind Lucero and for helping me figure out what babies do at 13 months lol I apologies in advance if some things don’t make sense, I tried my best to imitate the way they used to speak and use that for Lucero. 
Although not necessary, I listened to this playlist while I did all my writing and editing. It’s a nice bittersweet blend. If you guys wanna give it a listen, I think it would enhance the feelings in this part :)
We’re bouncing a little with the time jumps again but as always, they have the dates so its easier to track :) Happy reading!
MEXICO, OCTOBER 2024
Charles staggers into the hotel room, chest heaving as if he’s been sprinting miles without rest. His chest constricts,  each breath coming out in shallow puffs as he struggles to recompose himself. 
“Mon cœur?” he hears come from the bedroom and he no longer has it in him to hold back. Alexandra peeks out, eyes full of concern as she approaches the sobbing man. His face is buried in his hands and he would give anything to blend into the wall he’s leaning on. Guiding him to their room, she sits him down, slotting herself between his legs as he grips tight around her middle. His tears soak through her shirt as his body wracks with loud sobs. 
Frustration, anger, sadness – they all jumble together in his mind. Alexandra runs her fingers through his hair, murmuring comforts and feather light kisses into his hairline and waits for the sobs to soften before speaking. 
"Mon cœur, que s'est-il passé?" she asks, gently pushing his face away from her torso. My heart, what happened? She cradles his face as he looks up at her, silent tears staining his face. “That little girl we met today... she's my daughter. I didn’t know.” His voice is hoarse when he whispers, full of regret and guilt.
Alexandra’s eyes widen at the admission. “Charles, comment a-t-elle pu te cacher quelque chose comme ça? C'est... impardonnable," she says, her tinged with sympathy and indignation. How could she keep something like this from you? That's... unforgivable.
Charles shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut, a few tears still escaping down his cheeks. His sobs are fading in quiet hiccups as he slowly regains his breathing. “No, Alex. It’s not her fault. I’m the one who wasn’t there, it’s all my fault. I didn’t care enough, I left.”
She’s puzzled at his confession, lost in the depth of his sorrow. “What?”  
​​*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
MONACO, DECEMBER 2022
You’re lying partially on your side, arm draped over your bare chest as it rises and falls at a steady pace. He watches as you turn away, hair cascading over your back. The sheets are wrapped just over your middle, your upper body completely exposed to the air. The soft morning light filters through the room and Charles can’t help but think of the events last night.
He can still hear your voice as it echoes through the room, begging him not to stop. He can feel the crescent moons you’ve pressed into the thick muscles of his back. The ghost of your lips still lingers on his skin, like the stain of red lipstick on the collar of a white shirt. 
He leans over your sleeping figure, dragging his nose over your shoulder and pressing a ghost of a kiss there. It rouses you just enough to murmur a drowsy protest. “Don’t go,” you whisper and reach out for him, the tips of your fingers barely catching his skin. He is already on his feet. 
"I'll be back soon," he lies, slipping out before you can say anything else. He busies himself with mundane tasks, filling his day with errands that could be left for later. He thinks of you, all on your own, in your shared apartment waiting for him to come home. As you always did. He drives across the city, glancing at his phone as your messages roll in, swiping them away almost as quickly as they came. 
The truth was, being at home was proving to be increasingly difficult as time went on. His home with you, once a sanctuary, felt like a pressure cooker ready to pop. He loved you, doted on your every move but the constant fear of his career and unrelenting scrutiny of the public had slowly started to suffocate him. He couldn’t bear to break your heart and burden you with his overwhelming amount of feelings. What if he’d never be good enough for Ferrari, good enough for you? With every moment he spent away, he kept sinking into his own mind, choosing to ignore you and your attempts at breaking down his walls. He hated being away from you but he couldn’t help but pack you away into a corner of his mind, where he knew you’d be waiting for him, day in and day out. 
He comes home late that night, the guilt of having to face you gnawing at him. It's well after sunset and the night air is cool, the breeze turning icy. He walks through the door, expecting the lights to be off but is surprised to see you leaning over the sink, rinsing off dishes. 
Your face lights up when you see him, a tender smile he knows is only for him.
“Cha, you’re back,” you exclaim, turning to face the counter closest to the wall. You pick up a plate, filled generously with a meal that he could tell you spent a great deal of effort on. It’s gone cold in his absence. 
He only gives you a small smile, pressing a light kiss to your temple. He can’t help but feel a little surprised at your good mood. But he can’t bring himself to match the enthusiasm you carry in your voice.“I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, eyes not meeting yours. “I think I’ll just shower and head to bed.”
Your smile falters as he moves towards your bedroom, hurt flickering across your face. “But.. I made this for you. You’ve been out all day, I thought we could eat together.” 
He forces a smile, trying to appease you and end the conversation quickly. “I appreciate it amour, really. I’m just really tired.”
He can feel your eyes on him as he turns away, heavy with unspoken words. If he knew then what he knows now, he would've stood in that room and held you close. He would’ve tried harder to keep you by his side. He would’ve told you that he loved you. But he didn’t. 
She’ll come back, it’s okay, his thoughts echo while he stares at the door as you run into the night. You’re his rock, his anchor. His home. Weeks trickle by slowly and he can feel you slip away as more time goes by. He eventually stops thinking that he can hear your keys jingle in the lock at the front door. Your scent no longer clings to the bedsheets and the lush scented detergent you would buy gradually runs out. He slowly begins placing your things in boxes and taking them into storage where he hopes one day you’ll come to get them. Soon enough, he erases you from the apartment completely and it's as if you were never even there.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Charles shakes his head, his breath hitching. “I would do that often when I was home. I would lavish her with affection, trying to make sure she knew that I loved her with my whole being but…” he stops, pressing shaky fingers to his lips as if his breath is completely depleted. “I would find reasons to leave, seeking comfort in anything that wouldn’t make me think of what I was feeling inside.”
"Why?" Alexandra asks softly, her hand gently stroking his back. 
"I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of losing her, of not being enough. I thought keeping my distance, both physically and emotionally, would protect the both of us, but it only drove her away."
Alexandra's heart aches for him as he confesses. She knows Charles loves her but as his emotions spill out before her, she can’t help but feel like the other woman. She feels guilty as this new feeling is born and grows quickly. He’s confiding in her and the only thing she can think of are the doubts beginning to spiral in her mind. Trying to mask her discomfort she wraps her arms around him, his body relaxing against her as his breath gets smoother. 
"You did what you thought was best, Charles. You made mistakes, yes, but now you’ve learned and can move to find a better way forward," she says as her hand rubs up and down his back. 
Charles shakes his head. "I was selfish, Alex. I was so focused on my fears that I ignored her needs. I wanted to build a life together, to have a family. I pushed her away, and now... now I have a daughter I've never met."
Alex swallows hard as tears begin to bead in her eyes. She tries not to think too much about what he’s saying. She tries not to think about how this could make or break them. Would he still want to build something with me? Have the family he’s always wanted with me? 
“But you're here now and that’s all that matters. It’s not going to be easy but you can still be part of Lucero’s life and maybe, in time find a way to make amends.” She meets his gaze once again. The whites of his eyes are now red, only making the green around his iris look more brilliant than it did before. “Thank you, mon amour. For being here, for listening. I don’t deserve you.” 
She gives him a small smile, pushing away the feelings of insecurity that are now growing in the back of her mind. “Nous allons nous en sortir. Juste… ne m'exclut pas, d'accord ? Je ne peux pas t'aider si tu ne me laisses pas entrer.” We’ll get through this. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.
“Je promets,” he nods, pulling her into his arms again. I promise. 
Charles is exhausted as he lays in her arms later that night, face pressed into her chest, snug against her heart. Alexandra lies awake in the darkness, the thought of you overtaking her mind. Her hands tenderly brush over Charles’s hair, his deep breaths tickling her skin slightly. There will always be a part of him that belonged to you. And it makes her wonder, with Lucero and you beginning to take your places in his heart, would there still be room for her? 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The sun gently peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir from your sleep, eyes heavy as you turn to the sound of Lucero’s cries. You begin to pull yourself up, pushing the sheets off of you. You hear a string of tsks next to you, Carlos gently pulling you back to bed.
“Tu quedate aqui,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “Yo voy por ella.” You stay here, I’ll get her.
You mumble a slurred ok, nodding with eyes still very heavy as you settle back down. Eyes still puffy with sleep, you settle on now propped-up pillows. Pulling at the straps of your sleep shirt, you slip the top off. You watch hazily as Carlos moves to Lucero’s makeshift crib, his steps quiet and measured. He coos at her and you can see her little hands reach out for him, legs kicking in frustration. “Buenos días, mi patito,” he says, cradling her close. “Ya vamos con la mamí, no te preocupes.” Good morning, my duckling. We're going with mummy, don’t worry. It makes your heart flutter as he stares at her with his gentle eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand as it goes to poke at his chin. 
He makes his way back to the bed, watching as you adjust yourself in your spot. Lucero babbles, her initial upset fading into a groggy murmur as she nestles into the crook of Carlos’s neck. Her thumb catches on her lip as she tries to suck on it.
Carlos chuckles as he watches her latch onto it, gently pulling it from her mouth. “No, señora,” he says teasingly. No, ma'am. “No thumb-sucking, little miss.” His gaze is warm as he hands her to you. 
The room fills with a peaceful silence as Lucero latches on, her small body relaxing in her mother’s arms. She holds on tightly, almost insatiable as she feeds. Carlos climbs back into bed, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze is fixed on the two of you, eyes soft as he sees how devoted you’ve become to your little one, the love and connection strong between you. 
He can’t help but feel a sense of awe as he continues to watch you. He can’t help but admire how far you’ve come, the bond between you and Lucero beautiful and pure. The feeling of protectiveness and devotion to the two of you grows every day. He catches him thinking of the babe as his own, his daughter. She meant everything to him and he can’t bear to even imagine his life without her in it. Yet, he knew that Charles had a right to be a part of her life too, no matter how much it hurt to have to share that role. It's a thought that fills him with warmth but follows with a pang of bittersweet reality. 
With Lucero’s cries ceased, you gaze down at her. You're engrossed with how peaceful she looks, her little nose pressing into the flesh of your breast, little hands holding you as close as she can. Her eyes are beginning to droop again as her tummy fills up. She sighs in her stupor, pausing briefly before continuing.
You can feel Carlos’s gaze on you. He looks at you in adoration, fingers ghosting over Lucero’s chubby legs. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, sitting up as he does. Taking a deep breath, he breaks the silence. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” he asks gently. “And what comes next?” 
The question hangs in the air briefly, heavy with the weight of this new reality. You take a deep breath, mind coursing with different thoughts and emotions. “Not really, no.” You confess with a dry chuckle. If you could stay in this moment, just the three of you, you would without a second thought. “But we need to.”
He takes another deep breath, nodding. His expression is thoughtful as he threads his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his lips. “I know,” he says quietly. “I was thinking… If we’re going to do this, maybe we should also think about involving Alexandra.”
You blink in surprise, your eyebrows furrowing. “Alexandra?” you repeat, voice uncertain. 
Carlos nods, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I know its complicated, but she’s a part of Charles’s life. If he’s going to be in Lucero’s life, she might be too.” 
Your expression is still a puzzled one as you respond. “I hadn’t thought about that,” You admit. “Do you think it's a good idea?”
Carlos sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I think we should at least be open to it. Lucero deserves to know everyone who loves her. And I’m here, i know it’s not the same but I feel that because of that, she should be there too. We can’t ignore that.”
Your heart aches slightly at the thought, fear and hope swirling in your chest. “I’m scared, Carlos,” you say, voice beginning to tremble. “I don’t want to make things harder for her.” 
Carlos leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I know,” he whispers, eyes trained on her little figure, still sucking away. “But we need to think about what’s best for her in the long run. We’ll take it slow and be there for her every step of the way.”
Your eyes begin to fill with tears, your grip on Lucero tightening slightly. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if it hurts her?”
Carlos’s eyes soften, and he cups your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure she’s okay,” he says firmly. “We’ll protect her. But we can’t shield her from everything. She deserves the chance to know her family, even if it’s complicated.”
You nod slowly, heart heavy with the weight of the decision. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll try. But we have to be careful. We have to make sure it’s what’s best for her.”
Carlos smiles, his eyes filled with love and pride. “We will,” he promises. He presses his forehead to yours.“We’ll figure it out together.”
Lucero had finished feeding, her eyes now drifting closed as she snuggles against your chest.  You look down at her daughter, feeling a swell of emotion as you cradle her closer. Her jaw trembles slightly, a sign she was tired once again. “I just want her to be happy,” you whisper, voice breaking slightly.
Carlos wraps his arm around you, pulling the two of you close. “She will be,” he says gently. “She has you. And she has me. And now, she has a chance to know her father too.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
BRAZIL, NOVEMBER 2024
The sun is high over Sao Paolo when you arrive to the paddock. The air is electric with excitement, spectators slowly filling up the stands around the track. Their conversations create a gentle buzz that echoes above the garages. 
Carlos makes his way into the paddock, smiling at photographers and journalists as they wait for his entrance. They don’t miss the small body he holds in his arms and the woman that trails closely behind him, fingers intertwined with his. 
Your eyes scan meet the people waiting for you to enter, a delicate smile gracing your lips. Once in the Ferrari garage, you take release a breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding back. 
“Are you sure this was a good idea?” you ask Carlos as you’re settled in the back of the garage. A sudden wave of nerves washes over you as you can see a couple photographers clicking away around the garage. “Bringing her here?”
Carlos leans on one of the tables with you, nodding, fingers gently brushing over her wispy tufts of brown hair. “She seems to like it,” he points out as she squeals happily, pulling at the wire that connects to the big headphones Fred passed to her as you entered. “Besides, it’s good for her to see where Charles and I spend so much time.”
You smile, the concern still evident in your eyes. “I just don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.”
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Carlos says, fingers going to lovingly pinch at your arm. You know he’s referring to her but the look on his eyes makes you think he might mean you too. 
Lucero spots the red car being worked on and babbles excitedly as she sees the garage technicians checking around the car. 
“Cah-loh!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of wonder and determination. “Sí, Lu, un carro,” you correct gently. Yes, Lu, a car. Her attempt at say carro was endearing, the R sound still elusive for her baby tongue. Car. “Es rojo. Puedes decir, rojo?” she claps her hands, ignoring your request. Its red. can you say red? 
Carlos chuckles, leaning down to kiss her head. “Lolo’s going to drive el carro rojo, mi amor.” he says to her, pointing to himself and adding a soft vroom as he begins to imitate a car with his hand. He makes almost a flying motion with his hand in front of you before gently whooshing it towards the bubbly baby, tickling her tummy. She giggles, managing to grap his hands and pulls at his fingers. She holds them up to her face, a soft gargle of buh buh buh falling from her lips.
Lucero catches the eye of Charles as he makes his way into the garage, his eyes lighting up as he approaches you. He’s wearing those god-awful bleached jeans again, the odd stripes something you always teased him about. You just don’t see the art yet, he’d often say.
He gives Carlos a side hug before hesitantly leaning over you and wrapping his arms around you. It sends a wave of nerves through the both of you. He lets go quickly before he can think much of it and crouches slightly to meet Lucero’s eyes. 
“Bonjour, ma petite amour,” His voice is soft as he speaks to her. Hello, my little love. There’s an eager smile on his face, one that masks the nerves that were bubbling just beneath the surface. It’s one you recognize. 
Lucero looks at Charles, suddenly clampering into your arms, tucking her face into your neck. Charles’s heart clenches at the sight. “Muñeca, dile hola a Cha,” you say, his nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. Doll, say hi to Cha. 
You poke gently her little tummy, pulling her attention to her father. He smiles at her as she peeks out from behind your hair. You guide her hand gently towards Charles and she meets him in the halfway, her little fingers wrapping around his. “She’ll warm up,” you reassure. “It’s a lot for her, all these new faces and places.”
Charles nods, a slight flutter of uncertainty vibrating through his chest. “I understand,” he says. “I’m just happy to see her.”
Carlos observes the exchange, emotions swirling in his chest. He can’t help the protectiveness and understanding that bubble up as he sees this. He moves away from the table only to have Lucero reach her arms out for him. 
“Vienes conmigo, estrellita?” he asks as she pulls away from you and Charles, oblivious to the emotions of the adults around her. Are you coming with me, little star? She points excitedly at the car again, prompting Carlos to get near it. Buh buh buh she tries quietly.
“Bah bah,” she finally manages, voice loud as she proceeds to bury her face into Carlos’s shirt. He lets out a giggle as she does so. “Baba, bluum.” he looks at her with wide eyes, bouncing her in his arms. He glances over at you, jaw slack as he identifies what she’s trying to say. 
Charles’s smile falters momentarily. She means papa, he thinks. He masks his broken-heartedness quickly and turns to you. “She seems to really like the cars.” He comments, trying to keep his otne light.
“She does,” you say, glancing between the two men. “Maybe she’ll be a driver someday, like her father.”
“Maybe,” Charles says, his voice sounding like it’s far away. The word father hangs in the air, shrouded in a veil and he’s not sure if you mean Carlos or him. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Unraveling the Ferrari Enigma: Carlos Sainz Arrives with Mystery Woman and Baby, Spotted Again with Charles Leclerc at Brazilian GP
In an unexpected twist at the Mexican Grand Prix, Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz was seen arriving hand-in-hand with a mystery woman and a baby, sparking widespread speculation and intrigue within the F1 community. The woman, identified by sharp-eyed fans as Y/N L/N, the elusive former girlfriend of Sainz’s teammate, Charles Leclerc, has rarely been seen publicly, adding to the mystique surrounding this revelation.
Y/N L/N, who maintained a low profile throughout her relationship with Leclerc, has remained a figure of intrigue among fans and the media. Leclerc, known for his privacy regarding personal matters, never publicly acknowledged L/N, making this unexpected appearance alongside Sainz and the child even more startling.
Adding to the speculation, L/N and the baby—whose identiy remains undisclosed—made a second appearance at the Brazilian Grand Prix, further capturing the attention of the F1 world. Observers noted that not only were L/N and the child seen with Sainz, but they were also frequently spotted around Leclerc, intensifying curiosity about the current dynamics within the Ferrari team.
The repeated public appearances of L/N and the child have ignited a flurry of questions regarding their connection to Sainz and Leclerc, and what this means for the Ferrari drivers off the track. Could this development cause tension between Sainz and Leclerc? With the high stakes of the racing season and the close-knit nature of the F1 community, the unexpected appearance of L/N and the baby has undoubtedly raised eyebrows and sparked numerous questions.
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a/n: Hi friends! If you’ve gotten this far, thank you so much for reading! Any feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated, they seriously keep me so motivated <3
What do you guys think about this little news item? I enjoyed coming up with the one I made back in part 2, I thought why not make one for this part? Should I keep adding them in every now and then?
tags: @kravitzwhore @janeh22 @apollosfavkiddo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sltwins @bwormie @marshmummy @honethatty12 @staplerrrr @smithieandy @loloekie @musicheaux @jeondeluxe111 @dessxoxsworld @xoscar03 @emryb @yl90 @poppyflower-22 @a-distantdreamer
strike through => tumblr won’t let me tag you!
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rickybobbydan · 9 days ago
Text
4. Legend in the Making
Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!OC Driver
Summary: Monaco is the pinnacle of Formula 1. It's draped in glamour, diamonds, and cameras. Solana continues to fight, making space in a team that relies too much on tradition and not enough on the data.
Warnings: Misogyny, team tensions
Words: 6.2k+
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Chapter 4 – Legacy in the Making Monte Carlo, Monaco – May 2016
Monaco may be the crown jewel of the Formula 1 calendar, but for Solana Villarosa, it feels more like a crucible.
The surface glitters. Superyachts sway in the harbor like idle gods. Champagne flows on balconies draped in silk and gossip. The terraces are lined with sequins, sunglasses, and old money. Everywhere she turns, there is a camera, a question, or a smile sharpened like a blade. But behind all the glamour, she knows the truth.
This place is not built for mercy.
The streets of Monte Carlo are narrow and brutal. The barriers do not forgive. The corners leave no room for correction. It is a circuit made to punish hesitation, and Solana walks its perimeter with her Ferrari jacket zipped up and her chin tilted forward, her entire body humming with focus.
This is where legends are not only born but also tested.
Ferrari enters the weekend behind Mercedes in both championships. The pressure from Maranello is unrelenting. Their updates have been slow. The media is already whispering about a mid-season slump. And Sebastian is feeling it. His voice over the radio has grown increasingly sharp. He questions every gear ratio, criticizes tire behavior, and drills engineers on track evolution models like he is chasing ghosts he cannot catch.
The tension spills through the garage like oil on concrete.
Solana keeps her emotions tightly wound. Her braid is pinned flat beneath her team cap, her sunglasses reflect the brilliant Mediterranean sun, and her expression is unreadable as she stands on the pit wall during FP3. She watches the cars glide through the swimming pool chicane with clinical precision, dissecting every throttle input and every twitch of oversteer like a tactician studying the terrain before the battle.
A voice interrupts her quiet calculus.
"You’ve raced here twice, right?"
It is soft. Familiar.
Charles Leclerc stands just behind her, arms folded across his chest in a way that almost conceals the nervous bounce of his foot. He is dressed in team red as part of the Ferrari Driver Academy, still a test driver, waiting for his future to arrive.
This is his home track, but even home can feel foreign when the stakes are this high.
Solana does not take her eyes off the circuit. "Twice. P4 both times."
Charles exhales slowly. "That must be...frustrating."
"It is." She allows a smile to touch the corner of her mouth, fleeting and sardonic. "This year I either stand on that podium or I take the barrier with me."
He lets out a laugh, this one was more genuine, his tension softening just slightly. "You’ll get there."
"I need to." She finally turns to look at him. "I’m running out of ways to pretend fourth place still feels like progress."
They fall into silence. Around them, the pit lane hums with tire blankets, engine whines, and engineers murmuring into radios. But between them, the quiet settles differently.
There is something else unspoken hanging in the air. Something deeper than track data.
The name they do not say is still there.
Jules.
Charles lowers his gaze. "I miss him. Sometimes I wonder what he’d think... seeing all this. Me. You. Here."
Solana’s voice softens. "I think about that too. He’d tell you to go out there and scare them a little."
He smiles, the emotion still thick behind his eyes. "That sounds like him."
"He’d also tell you that you belong," she says quietly. "And he’d mean it."
Charles looks at her for a long moment, his brow drawn with something like gratitude. "You carry him with you every race, don’t you?"
She nods once, slow and steady. "He was the first person in this paddock who told me I was good enough. And he meant it. Before the headlines. Before the wins. When no one else had the nerve to say it out loud."
He hesitates, then says, almost too softly to hear, "I think you’re better than good enough."
Their eyes meet. She sees sincerity in his, and something a little more fragile beneath it. She nods again, her voice quieter now. "Thank you, Charles."
Just then, her earpiece crackles. Another call from the garage. Sebastian again. Another complaint. Another briefing she cannot ignore.
Solana exhales through her nose and pats Charles on the shoulder, a gesture both comforting and firm. She turns back toward the garage, her stride collected and assured.
Charles watches her go.
He thinks of all the things she carries, the expectations, the history, the grief, and how she walks with it all, as if it were weightless, not because it is light, but because she has no choice.
He realizes something else too.
Maybe the hardest racers are not the loudest or the most dramatic. Maybe they are the ones who wear their ghosts like shields and still manage to carry someone else along for the ride.
And maybe that is what makes them unforgettable.
Race Weekend – GP3, Grit, and a Win Monte Carlo, Monaco – May 2016
The red and white of the Monegasque flag billows gently above the podium, caught in the breeze coming off the harbor. Below it, Charles Leclerc lifts the trophy with both hands, his face flushed with joy, disbelief, and the kind of exhausted triumph that takes more than a race to earn. The crowd roars for him, his people, his city, his moment.
From a private balcony two stories above pit lane, Solana Villarosa watches with her arms folded across her chest. She does not cheer. She does not wave or call out his name. Her expression remains composed, but her eyes follow every motion with quiet intensity. A smile plays at the corner of her lips, restrained but deeply proud.
She doesn’t see just a victory. She sees the culmination of years, of weight, of quiet grief finally given flight.
As the national anthem fades and the photographers begin to scatter, Solana turns away from the spectacle. She slips out through a side door, unnoticed by most, and takes the narrow steps down to the paddock level. The crowds thicken, voices rise in celebration, but she walks through it with purpose. She knows where she’s going.
The ART Grand Prix garage is still humming with energy. Mechanics exchange claps on the back. Team members gather around screens replaying the final laps. Charles stands near the back, still in his red and white race suit, curls matted with sweat, champagne clinging to his collar like a second skin. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps, and when he sees her, his entire frame seems to exhale.
He smiles, but it is the kind that trembles at the edges, still caught between disbelief and emotion. There is a glassy look in his eyes, the kind that only comes from doing something you weren’t sure you were strong enough to finish.
Solana doesn’t wait for him to speak. She steps forward and wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, pulling him in without hesitation. His helmet is still half-clipped at the base, her chin resting just above the latch.
“You did it,” she whispers, her voice low and steady. “God, Charles. You really did it.”
He doesn’t answer at first. His breath catches against her shoulder.
“I kept hearing his voice,” he says finally, so softly it’s nearly lost beneath the noise of the garage. “Through every lap. Every damn turn.”
She tightens her embrace, her voice steady despite the ache rising in her chest. “He was with you.”
When he pulls back, it’s only far enough to meet her eyes. His expression is raw, open in a way few people ever get to see. “Do you think he’d be proud?”
Solana lifts her hand and cups the side of his face, brushing a damp curl from his temple with her thumb. “Pequeño...Jules would be crying like a baby right now. Then he’d tease you for your twitchy exit on Rascasse and tell you to brake two meters later next time.”
That makes him laugh, and the sound cracks through the moment like sunlight through a storm cloud. It is wet and real, and for the first time all day, his shoulders drop from where they’ve been held in tension.
“Merci,” he murmurs. “For everything. For believing in me when all I had was a last name and a dream people kept reducing to a ghost story.”
She smiles, softer now. “You’re more than his shadow, Charles. You always have been. You’re your own fire.”
He lowers his gaze for a moment, emotion thick in his throat. “I want to keep making him proud.”
“You already are,” she says. “And whether you know it or not, you’re making me proud too.”
Charles nods, blinking hard, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his fire suit. “I just wish he could see it.”
Solana leans forward again, resting her forehead lightly against his, her voice a breath. “He does. You carry him every time you put on that helmet. He never left you.”
They stay there for a moment, unmoving, while the celebration pulses around them. Solana holds the moment for him and lets him exist in it fully without pressure, without expectation.
Then, gently, she pulls back.
“Now go shower,” she says, wrinkling her nose playfully. “You smell like champagne and existential crisis.”
Charles laughs again, this time with less weight on his chest. “You sound like Daniel.”
Solana lifts an eyebrow. “You trying to insult me, Leclerc?”
He grins, finally relaxed. “You’re both trouble.”
She taps his helmet and steps away. “Only the kind worth knowing.”
As she turns to leave, Charles watches her go, his eyes lingering on the figure who had taken him in when grief was still fresh and belief in himself was fragile. She had never tried to replace Jules, never treated him like an obligation or a project. She had just been there. Constant. Fierce. Human.
And he knows, deep in his bones, that whatever comes next, whatever victories, heartbreaks, titles, or trials, he's already been given the greatest gift a young racer could ask for: someone who reminded him not just to race, but to believe.
Not because of his name.
But because of who he was becoming.
Qualifying Drama Monte Carlo, Monaco – May 2016
P4. Again. Ahead of Sebastian Vettel by two places. On the surface, it should have felt like a personal victory. Another marker laid down. Another lap that proved she belonged.
But as Solana Villarosa stepped out of the SF16-H in the glinting Monaco sun, unzipping her suit halfway and tugging off her gloves, the garage didn’t celebrate. The cameras did. The fans did. But not Ferrari.
The cheers from the grandstands were muffled by tension in the air around her. Her engineer handed her a water bottle without meeting her eyes. A few mechanics nodded stiffly. Marco, ever diplomatic, gave her a brief pat on the shoulder as if to say “well done” without actually saying it. It felt like permission wrapped in secrecy.
Sebastian didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
He stood behind the car, helmet off, jaw tight, a faint flush on his neck that had nothing to do with heat. His eyes skimmed over her like she was a smudge on the edge of a photo—visible, but inconvenient.
It didn’t matter that she’d outqualified him again. That her pace was clean, aggressive, and surgically efficient around a circuit that punished even the slightest misstep. In the unspoken code of Ferrari, Sebastian was still the sun around which the team was meant to orbit.
And Solana? She was a moon pulling gravity in the wrong direction.
Later that evening, as the paddock wound down and the noise gave way to night, the tabloids began to circulate.
Ferrari Tensions Rise: Villarosa Overshadows Vettel Again. Is Ferrari Backing the Wrong Driver? Queen Takes King’s Crown?
She read none of the articles. She didn’t need to. The headlines were enough.
Sitting in the back of the team truck, parked just beyond the paddock gates, she folded the tabloid and tucked it under her thigh like it might vanish if she kept it out of sight. Her helmet rested on the seat beside her. Her body was still humming from the adrenaline of qualifying, but emotionally, she felt emptied out. Not drained, exactly, just scraped raw.
She knew better than to read the comments.
The next afternoon, the drivers’ parade rolled through the streets of Monte Carlo in a procession of polished classic cars. Solana sat beside Lewis Hamilton in the backseat of a 1950s convertible, the leather seats hot beneath them, the sun relentless overhead.
The crowd surged around them in a mosaic of color. Flags waved in every direction, Scuderia red, Mercedes silver, streaks of Dutch orange rising like fire from the terraces. The air carried the smell of sea spray and motor oil. Fans screamed their names, held up signs, and leaned over barriers with phones outstretched.
Solana kept her sunglasses on, lips curved into a polite smile, one hand raised in a slow wave. Her other rested in her lap, fingers twitching slightly, a tell she couldn’t shake.
Lewis nudged her knee with his.
"You alright, Sol?" he asked, voice quiet beneath the roar of the crowd.
She nodded, then hesitated.
"The storm doesn’t scare me," she said.
His brow lifted slightly, amused but perceptive. "But?"
She shifted her weight, eyes still on the coastline beyond the circuit.
"Being ignored does."
There was a beat of silence between them. Lewis turned toward her, his expression unreadable behind dark lenses.
"They’ll ignore you until you win too much to be ignored," he said, voice low enough that the cameras wouldn’t pick it up. "Then they’ll resent you for that too."
Solana exhaled, a short breath through her nose. Her hands were still, now folded tightly in her lap.
"I didn’t come here to make enemies," she said. "But I didn’t expect it to feel this...lonely."
Lewis looked at her for a long moment. Then he leaned a little closer, just enough to speak directly without the microphones catching it.
"You’re not alone," he said. "You’re just ahead."
She finally turned to him, and for the first time since qualifying, the knot in her chest began to loosen. The words landed exactly where they needed to.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He offered the slightest shrug, the corners of his mouth tilting upward. "Just don’t forget who you are. Or why you’re here."
She didn’t answer right away. She just looked at him, really looked, and saw not just the reigning world champion beside her, but a man who had fought every step of the way for recognition, for belonging, for space to simply exist without apology.
They exchanged no more words, but something passed between them, an understanding built not on shared victories but on shared battles.
Solana turned her gaze back to the crowd, the roar of voices swelling around them again.
And in that moment, she knew exactly what she was racing for. Not just points or podiums.
She was racing for visibility, for permanence, for the right to exist in a world that still didn’t know what to do with someone like her. This wasn’t just about the win. It was about the right to be seen. And she would keep fighting for it, lap after lap, until there was no one left who could look away.
Race Day – Precision in Red Monaco – May 2016
Monaco does not forgive. The circuit clings to the cliffside like a dare, its barriers as close as breath, its corners as tight as memory. There is no margin for error, no room to breathe — only the rhythm of risk. For most, race day is chaos. But for Solana Villarosa, it is clarity.
From the moment the lights go out, she dances the SF16-H through Sainte Dévote with clinical precision. While others scramble for grip on a track still drying from earlier rain, she holds her line with the quiet confidence of someone who has memorized this place corner by corner, breath by breath.
Ahead, Daniel surges off the line from pole, controlling the pace with methodical brilliance. The Red Bull sticks like it’s wired to the asphalt, and for the first third of the race, it is his to lose. Hamilton presses from second. Rosberg fades. And Solana, tucked in behind the frontrunners, watches the storm build.
The rain threat recedes, the track dries. And then, the pit window opens.
Daniel dives in. But something goes wrong. A delay. No tires ready. Seconds bleed away — seconds that should never have been lost.
Solana is still out on track when it happens, but the Ferrari radio crackles with confirmation. Red Bull fumbled it. She knows what that means before her engineer says a word.
By the time she comes in for slicks, her stop is seamless. She exits pit lane just behind the recovering Ricciardo, but crucially, ahead of the midfield chaos. Rosberg has fallen back. Bottas, Pérez — all behind.
The new top three is set.
Hamilton leads. Daniel, furious but still composed, is second. Solana is third, a breath behind them, but unshaken.
The final laps of the race are relentless. Monaco’s walls blur past her in gold and shadow. Her tires wear thin, but her focus never does. She is not trying to catch Hamilton or Ricciardo now. She is protecting something harder to win, her space on the podium.
When the checkered flag falls, it is a quiet sort of triumph.
A Monaco podium. Finally.
As she pulls into Parc fermé, her fingers remain wrapped around the wheel for just a moment longer. Not out of disbelief, but reverence. For the race. For the silence. For what it cost to get here.
She climbs out of the car, the roar of the crowd rising like surf over stone.
On the podium, Hamilton raises his bottle first, face glistening with sweat and spray. Ricciardo stands beside him, expression taut. The frustration simmers behind his eyes even as he smiles for the cameras. Solana takes her place at their side, third on the step, but steady, composed, and complete.
This time, she does not feel like a guest in their story. She feels like a chapter.
Later, with the crowd beginning to drift and the champagne still dripping from her sleeves, she finds Max Verstappen by the railing near parc fermé. His arms are crossed, his Red Bull jacket slightly unzipped, and he wears the crooked grin of someone who’s seen enough today to be impressed.
“See that?” she says, her voice casual as she approaches. “You’re not the only one doing something historic this month.”
He smirks. “You’re not just any driver. You’re writing your own damn legacy.”
She shrugs, but the pride in her eyes gives her away. “Not bad for a girl in red.”
Max raises his brows. “Not bad? You made the Monaco podium on merit. Held off the midfield. Kept your cool while everyone else lost theirs.”
She nods toward the podium, where Ricciardo still lingers near the edge, speaking to his engineer with tight shoulders and a hard-set jaw.
“It’s a brutal sport,” she says. “Even when you’re perfect, something out of your control can take it all away.”
Max follows her gaze, his voice quieting. “He should’ve won that race.”
“I know,” she replies. “But today wasn’t about who should’ve. It was about who survived it.”
He exhales, nodding slowly. “You looked like you belonged up there.”
“I didn’t come to Monaco to survive,” she says. “But maybe I did both.”
A voice from the Ferrari garage cuts across the paddock, calling her name. Urgent. Always something else to answer for.
Before she goes, she glances back at Max.
“Keep your head straight in Canada,” she tells him. “The second win’s the hardest.”
He grins. “Lucky for me, I’ve got a legend to follow.”
As Solana walks away, the crowd still murmuring her name, the Riviera sun slipping low behind the buildings, she lets it settle. Not just the result, but what it means.
This was not just a podium.
It was proof. A claim. A promise.
Not just to the world, but to herself.
Private Moments – After the Podium Monaco – May 2016
The apartment is quiet when they return, the kind of quiet that feels sacred rather than empty. The windows are cracked open, letting in the salty air that drifts in from the harbor, thick with the scent of the sea and champagne residue still clinging to the Monaco streets. The low murmur of yacht parties carries in on the breeze, laughs, clinking glasses, the low thrum of house music, but none of it reaches them. Not really.
The lights are dim, a soft amber glow spilling across the hardwood floors, and somewhere near the kitchen, an unopened bottle of champagne waits beside two flutes they never bothered to fill. It had been set out in celebration, but neither of them had touched it. They didn’t need to.
Solana stands at the small vanity tucked into the corner of the bedroom, the gold from her earrings catching the light as she slides them out one by one. Each soft clink as they fall into the ceramic dish feels like another layer being shed. Her braid has mostly unraveled, loose strands curling down her back like ivy left to grow wild. Her body aches—the dull throb in her lower back, the fire still winding through her thighs from every millimeter of precision Monaco demanded of her—but none of it matters. There is a quiet hum in her bones, something solid and earned, the kind of warmth that only comes after you’ve taken something back that was never meant to be handed to you.
Behind her, Daniel appears, silent on socked feet, already out of his race gear and wearing an oversized Red Bull hoodie with the sleeves pushed halfway up his arms. His hair is damp, curling slightly at the edges, and there’s a gentleness in his expression that’s reserved only for her.
He wraps his arms around her from behind without saying a word at first. His chin finds the curve of her shoulder, and he exhales into the crook of her neck like the rest of the day has finally caught up to him too.
“That was magic out there,” he says eventually, voice thick with something more than awe.
Solana closes her eyes, the tension in her shoulders beginning to unwind beneath his touch.
“It felt like it,” she murmurs. “Like Monaco finally gave me something back.”
He presses a kiss just beneath her ear, unhurried and reverent, his lips warm against her skin. “No one could touch you today. Not even close.”
She turns in his arms, slow and deliberate, wrapping hers around his waist as her forehead finds its place against his chest. The beat of his heart, steady and familiar, grounds her more than anything else could have.
“I needed this one,” she whispers, barely louder than a breath.
“I know,” he says, and he means it.
They stay like that for a long time. No rush. No need to speak. The hum of the city outside fades to nothing as their breathing falls into a rhythm. The room doesn’t need music or conversation; it holds them in the kind of silence only shared with someone who understands the cost of what you’ve just done.
When he finally takes her hand and leads her to bed, it isn’t with urgency. It’s something quieter. Something reverent. They move together in the dark, unburdened by expectation, skin to skin like two people who have nothing left to prove. His hands trace shapes on her back, slowly, like a man committing scripture to memory, not for worship, but for understanding.
There's no ceremony to it, no spectacle. Just love that feels like relief, safety, like choosing one another even after the world has taken its pound of flesh.
Later, when they're tangled in soft sheets and shadows, Daniel brushes the hair from her cheek. His fingers trail along her jaw, then settle just beneath her chin as he looks at her with the kind of clarity only night and truth allow.
“You looked otherworldly up there,” he says quietly. “Not just fast. You were untouchable.”
Solana turns toward him, her face half-lit by the moonlight spilling in from the balcony, eyes still alive with everything the day demanded of her.
“This was for every little girl watching who thinks she can’t. It was for Jules,” she says.
Daniel swallows, his hand finding hers and guiding it to rest against his chest, just above his heartbeat.
“He’d be proud of you,” he says, and there is no doubt in his voice. Only certainty.
She nods, the ache in her throat rising again. “He's with me every time I race.”
For a moment, the room is quiet again. Then he brushes his fingers slowly down her arm, his touch light, anchoring.
“And this?” he asks, his voice a little softer now, a little more vulnerable. “Us?”
She leans in and kisses him, slow and deep, her lips brushing his with a tenderness that says more than words ever could.
“This is for me,” she whispers.
And in that quiet room in Monaco, with the sea murmuring in the distance and the city finally asleep, Solana Villarosa lets herself be held; she's not Ferrari’s rising star here, she's not a symbol or a headline, she's not the girl outqualifying legends. She's just Solana.
A woman who has survived every weight this world has dared to throw at her.
A woman who has learned how to win, and still remembers how to love.
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legendary-69420 · 6 months ago
Text
The Melody Between Us 2 : Singing Our Truth
Chapter 10 : Part 2
(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3 )
racing hearts
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The Driver's Room at Ferrari is usually a place of rest, but today it had a different energy. Mark, ever the source of unexpected distractions, had somehow found an electric guitar amidst the usual clutter of racing gear. “No one ever told me Ferrari had a hidden music corner,” he joked, strumming a few playful chords. Charles glanced up from his phone, raising an eyebrow at the guitar. "How the hell does he keep finding this stuff?" He thought.
"Really? You’re going to start with that now?" Charles smirked, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Mark's grin was mischievous as he plucked the strings, the soft hum of the electric guitar filling the room. "It’s better than staring at your race data all day. Trust me."
With a playful glint in his eyes, Mark began strumming the opening chords of Die With A Smile, his deep voice breaking the stillness of the room. The way he sang was raw, powerful—a little haunting, like if the devil himself had a voice. Charles, for his part, didn’t miss a beat. His voice blended seamlessly with Mark’s, their harmonies fitting perfectly in a way that felt natural and electric, like the sound of their bond growing.
The two of them sang, leaning into the melody, faces so close that Charles could feel Mark’s breath on his skin. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this—singing together had become their thing. But this time, there was something different in the air, something unspoken.
When the song ended, Charles had a hard time shaking the warmth from his chest. The chemistry between them was undeniable. There was something in Mark’s voice that did things to him, a gravity he couldn’t resist, even if he tried. But it wasn’t just Mark’s voice—it was the energy they shared when they sang. The intimacy was deeper than he wanted to admit, and he couldn’t help but feel more drawn to him.
A few days later, the scene replayed itself. This time, the song was Electric love. As they sang together, Charles couldn't help but feel like Mark was confessing something through the lyrics. But, as usual, Mark didn’t seem to be thinking about anything serious—he was just lost in the music, his smile radiant as always. To Charles, though, there was a sense that Mark's lyrics held a different kind of weight.
But the dynamic was still light, carefree. Singing was their way of connecting, without the baggage of expectations or anything else weighing them down.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Charles walked into the common area a few days later, only to find Mark and Carlos, guitar in hand, deep into a Spanish duet. "Me Gustas Tú". The song, playful and flirtatious, had a vibe that made Charles's chest tighten. He tried to mask his feelings, but the sight of Mark and Carlos, so at ease with each other, sparked a pang of jealousy he wasn’t expecting. They laughed as they sang, the room alive with energy.
Charles hung back for a moment, watching them, until Mark turned to him with a wide grin. "What’s up, Leclerc? You’re looking like you’ve just seen a ghost."
He smiled weakly, trying to shrug it off, but the jealousy still lingered in his chest. Why did it feel different when it was Carlos and Mark? He couldn’t help but feel that this—singing together—had always been their thing, Mark and his, not anyone else’s.
But then, as if to put his heart at ease, Mark did what only he could do. With the next chord strummed, Mark jumped up and started doing the iconic Macarena dance, his energy bouncing off the walls. Carlos joined in, both of them laughing.
As Mark and Carlos continued to sing together, the atmosphere shifted in a way that Charles couldn't ignore. At first, it felt like a joke—just another of their playful moments. But as the song progressed, Charles realized the lyrics, the rhythm, the easy way they interacted… it was all too familiar. Mark was having fun, but there was something in the way Carlos looked at him, the closeness of their voices, that sparked a pang of jealousy in Charles.
But as the song ended, Mark turned his head, his eyes meeting Charles's with a familiar glint in them. "What do you think, Leclerc? You gonna join us next time?" he teased, his tone playful, but there was a softness to it that Charles couldn't ignore.
Before he could respond, Mark picked up his guitar again, playing a few quick chords. He flashed a mischievous grin at Carlos. "Actually, I think we should do something a little different now."
Without missing a beat, Mark strummed the opening chords to a song he knew well, one that Charles had taught him the first time they'd sung together. A soft smile curled at the edges of Mark's lips as he began singing songs that had became their personal anthem. As he sang, his voice was steady and confident, but his gaze stayed locked with Charles’s—full of something deeper. The moment felt like a declaration, a reminder that no matter who else was around, Mark still preferred singing with him, still chose him. Even in front of Carlos.
Charles’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t need anyone to tell him—it was clear. In the midst of the fun, Mark was sending him a message.
That night, the internet exploded again with reactions from fans who had seen the impromptu performance. The videos spread like wildfire, and the comments rolled in:
"These (Charles and Mark) two have more chemistry than any internet couple!"
"WOAH, Mark and Charles singing together? Why do I feel we disturbed their privacy and shouldn't have seen this?"
*"AAAH! Mark and Carlos singing *Me Gustas Tú* together? That was basically a confession #Marlos confirmed."*
"What the hell is with Mark having a chemistry with everyone on the grid?!?! #Marlos ."
"Guys, stop shipping Mark and Carlos when you haven’t seen the full clip… Mark still chose Charles over Carlos."
"Wait, Mark and Carlos singing together? But did you see the way Mark looked at Charles after? It’s clear who he prefers!"
*"The chemistry between Mark and Charles is undeniable. Who else feels like they’re *a thing* and just don’t know it yet?"*
"Mark literally chose Charles over Carlos in the middle of a song. #CharkOverMarlos"
*"I can’t be the only one who noticed the shift when Mark picked up the guitar and started playing *Beautiful Things* with Charles, right?"*
"Mark and Charles are basically the definition of ‘together without being together.’ The energy between them is something else."
*"I can’t get over how Mark just serenaded Charles in front of Carlos. Like, that’s *true* love, people!"*
*"I don’t know how anyone can still ship *Marlos* after seeing that clip. Mark’s heart is with Charles, end of story."*
As Mark looked through the comments later that night, he chuckled to himself. His fans were picking up on something he had known all along.
The connection between him and Charles had always been special, but in this moment, it became clear—it wasn’t just the music. It was the unspoken understanding, the closeness that had blossomed over time. And as they shared their music, their laughs, and their quiet moments, Mark knew that Charles would always be the one he turned to first.
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(Dividers by @omi-resources)
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onboardsorasora · 1 month ago
Note
Charles, no longer an a first year hire, loves to brag to the others who came after him that once he went on a business trip to Vegas with daniel during his first year
He spent the entire weekend as Daniel’s arm candy and was constantly naked at Daniel’s beck and call
Max in particular is the most annoyed because that meant Charles had a week of uninterrupted daniel time meanwhile max was working at some other company completely unaware that his once upon a time academic rival was getting dicked down by the guy he wanted for himself
Bestie you genius!!!
Every time Charles brings it up, Max is livid. He doesn't want to imagine Charles bouncing on Daniel's cock with the whole of Vegas backlit out the window. Doesn't want to think of Daniel's face slack with pleasure while Charles sucks him of on the private jet
And he sure as fuck doesn't want to think of Daniel moaning Charles' name when he comes
While Max was getting valuable work experience at a tech start up, Charles was getting dicked down by the man of Max's sexual fantasies. Life is just not fair.
And not only that, he has Lando attempting to compete with him. As if he's trying to milk Daniel's cock for the last few months of his first year and maybe get invited to continue fucking around privately or something. He can keep Carlos from Finance, Daniel was Max's!
They were his friends but in this game of sitting on Daniel's cock, Max wasnt interested in any competition. Getting up from his desk, Max made his way to the C suite, Daniel was probably feeling a little lonely. Maybe Max could offer to warm his cock while he took a call or something
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ari-ana-bel-la · 5 months ago
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Heyy Babes Can you please write Dad!Lewis where he loves to spoil his baby and someone questions him about it in an interview or smth like that. Thank youu
Spoiling her rotten
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The paddock was buzzing with energy as the drivers gathered around, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation before qualifying. The Ferrari garage was unusually lively today, and it wasn't because of strategy discussions or mechanics making last-minute adjustments. No, the source of the excitement was a tiny, giggling little girl currently waiting in the Ferrari hospitality with her grandparents.
Three-year-old Yn, Lewis’ daughter, was a little bundle of energy, and everyone who had met her agreed on one thing—she was the most spoiled child in the world. But no one really minded. How could they? The sight of Lewis, the seven-time world champion, carrying around his daughter like she was the most precious thing in existence was something no one could resist smiling at.
“He spoils her so much,” Max muttered, shaking his head fondly as they all stood near the Ferrari garage, chatting before the session.
“I think it’s adorable,” Carlos admitted, taking a sip from his water bottle. “She’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”
“You mean the most spoiled?” Lando chimed in. “Have you seen the way he looks at her? If she asked for the moon, I think he’d find a way to get it for her.”
Lewis, who had just approached the group, rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the proud smile on his face. “Of course, I spoil my princess. She deserves it.”
The teasing only increased at his statement, with George dramatically placing a hand on his heart. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Charles, who had been quietly listening, chuckled. “I think it’s nice. She’s only three. It’s good that she has a dad who loves her that much.”
Lewis shot Charles a grateful look before turning his attention back to the rest of the group. “You guys just don’t get it. When you have a little one who looks at you like you’re their whole world, you just want to give them everything.”
Before anyone could respond, a small voice called out, cutting through the noise of the paddock. “Daddy!”
The drivers all turned to see Yn running full speed toward them, her tiny legs moving as fast as they could. Her little Ferrari team shirt looked oversized on her small frame, and her curly hair bounced with each step. But what stood out the most was the stuffed pink bunny she was clutching tightly in her arms.
Lewis crouched down just in time to catch her as she jumped into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “There’s my princess. Did you have fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”
Yn nodded eagerly before holding out the bunny for everyone to see. “Look! Daddy got me a bunny!”
The drivers all leaned in to admire the toy, but it was Charles who gave the biggest reaction. He gasped dramatically, eyes wide as he gently touched the bunny’s floppy ear. “Wow! That is the cutest bunny I’ve ever seen.”
Yn beamed, clearly pleased with his reaction. “It’s soft!” She pressed the bunny to her cheek before holding it out to Charles. “Feel it!”
Charles obediently ran a hand over the stuffed animal. “Oh, it’s very soft. What’s its name?”
Yn scrunched her nose in thought before shrugging. “Bunny.”
The drivers burst into laughter at her simple but effective choice of name. “A very good name,” Charles approved, nodding seriously.
Lewis kissed the top of her head. “See? I told you Bunny was a great choice.”
Yn giggled before resting her head on Lewis’ shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Lando, ever the instigator, smirked. “Okay, but let’s be honest, honey—how many stuffed animals do you already have at home?”
Yn lifted her head, thinking hard before holding up four fingers. “This many.”
Lewis sighed. “She has way more than that.”
George grinned. “And yet, you keep buying more.”
Lewis huffed. “Like I said, she deserves it.” He bounced Yn slightly in his arms, making her giggle again. “I’ll spoil her as much as I want.”
Charles shook his head with a small smile, watching the interaction fondly. “I think it’s sweet.”
Yn turned her bright eyes on Charles again. “Do you have a bunny?”
Charles chuckled. “No, but I think I need one now.”
Yn gasped. “You can get one! Daddy will buy you one!”
The group exploded into laughter at her confidence, and Lewis playfully poked her side. “I spoil you, not the other drivers.”
Yn pouted before reaching for Charles’ hand. “I share Bunny with you.”
Charles placed one hand over his heart, the other one on hers. “I’m honored.”
Yn grinned, clearly pleased with herself before snuggling back into Lewis’ arms. The drivers continued to joke and tease, but there was an undeniable warmth in the group. No one doubted for a second that Lewis’ little princess was the most loved child in the paddock.
And if Lewis wanted to spoil her forever, no one would stop him.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey, loves. I hope you enjoy this story. My requests are always open and I'm more than happy to write your story.
-💙🦋
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thewritingofspencerrose · 1 year ago
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Adoption?
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general masterlist | Freefall: A Series
inspired by Ollie's rookie debut and him attaching himself to Charles for that race weekend
"I want to adopt him."
"Mon amour, we can't just adopt an 18 year old who's father is actively in the garage," Charles tries to explain, although I will officially take none of that.
"Ollie!" The poor kid jumps upon hearing my voice, not expecting to be acknowledged during this little downtime. He smiles, though, regardless of the scare, and makes his way over to Carlo, Charles, and me.
"Hi Ms.Earnhardt," Oh he's adorable.
But it doesn't stop me from crossing my arms, standing with a pose of disappointment. "Ollie, we've talked about this last season. You don't need to call me Ms.Earnhardt, Lynnleigh or Lynn is good enough."
He's blushing now, brightly nodding along. "Right, yes, Lynnleigh. And hi Charles, Carlos, glad to see you're out of the hospital!"
Oh he's so sweet.
"Ollie, can I ask you a question?"
"Mon amour, no-"
Charles gets no time to finish his thought, because I know it'll just be him trying to stop me. "Can Charlie and I adopt you?"
And here comes the look of shock on the two men and the boy's face.
"Can you- what?" Ollie isn't the only person to pause, Carlos' thick brows raising in question while the Ferrari crew around us slow, giving me the look of an animal in a zoo.
Peculiar and entertaining.
"Can Charlie and I adopt you?" I repeat, smiling brightly as Charles pulls me under his arm, shaking his head as his hand clamps down over my mouth.
"I'm sorry about her, it's the American in her."
Ollie just laughs awkwardly at his dismissal, "Uh, I mean I do have parents."
Moments like these, I curse Charlie's strength because it genuinely does make removing his hand from my mouth more difficult, no matter how much I adore his strong arms wrapped around me.
But I manage, his arm dropping to rest around my waist and link with his other hand on my hip.
"Ollie," I start, making sure my voice is soft and mellow. "I don't mean for us to legally adopt you, kiddo. I mean like, can we be your paddock parents?"
"So- you don't want to adopt me adopt me, just like, actually no, I'm still confused. What's happening?"
"In exchange for one hug every race, I will bring you snacks and keep you entertained if you get bored. And Charlie will mentor you."
"When did I offer this?" Charles's question is whispered in my ear, not out of refusal but instead of confusion.
He gets a kiss in return, no answer, and just nods, accepting this consolation.
Glancing back to Ollie, he looks excited and my heart jumps.
"So I get to keep my parents and have an extra pair for race weekends?" Oh this is so going where I want it to.
"Exactly!" I exclaim, tapping Charles's chest and getting an oomph. "See! He gets it!"
"Yes, yes, mon ange excité (my excitable angel), I can see he is understanding your crazy." Cue another tap to his stupidly toned chest.
"Ignore Charles, he doesn't get it," I dismiss, the young boy chuckling brightly, curls bouncing as he nods.
"I think I'd enjoy this," The teen agrees, putting his hand out to shake my own while Carlos guffaws at what he's seeing. "You're got yourself a deal!"
I can't help the cheer the slips out as I shake his hand, quickly turning around to look up to Charles. "Charlie, we've acquired our first grid kid!"
Kissing my lips, he can't help the smile that takes over seeing how happy this makes not only me, but the rookie who had been vibrating with nerves over his rookie debut. "Would you look at that."
It's then that Ollie's father walks by, the teen seeing him and getting even more joyful.
He's pulling us into a group hug before I can even process what's happening before running away, following his father.
"Dad! I have new paddock parents!"
"Vous êtes adorable (you're adorable)."
"I don't know what you're saying, but I love you too."
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coimbrabertone · 9 months ago
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The Best F1 Season For A Non-Contender?
Well, the biggest story coming out of the 2024 United States Grand Prix is without a doubt the Verstappen/Norris thing.
To recap, Lando is coming after Max hard, gets run on the backstraight after run on the backstraight, but keeps going to the outside and can't pull the move off.
Finally, on lap 52, Lando has a good enough run that he's ahead, on the outside, but ahead. So what then?
Well, Max Verstappen is on the inside so he just divebombs to get the apex, goes wide, pushes Lando wide with him, and Lando has to pass around the outside in the runoff.
He's finally ahead.
Except no, fuck you, this is F1 and fun isn't allowed.
So the stewards are investigating this move where no contact was made, nobody got hurt, and there was enough runoff all around to land an Antonov AN-225 in.
And Lando gets the penalty. Lando.
Why? Overtaking off track.
Lando is 4.1 seconds ahead at the end of the race, gets dropped behind Max in the standings, everyone on social media is pissed. Some people - who are wrong - think that Max had the right because he was in front at the apex, others think Lando should've just given the position back and retaken it on track, which probably would've been the smart play in retrospect.
It's also kinda the racing equivalent of cuckolding though, isn't it?
Like, are we really watching for someone to have to give up a position to avoid getting a penalty?
"Ah yes sir, you drove me off track like a prick sir, but here's the position sir, have a good one sir."
Ridiculous.
Anyway, I'm sure this is the 97th different place you've heard about this incident, so I'll leave it there. Instead, I'm gonna talk about something overshadowed by all the petty bullshit going on between these two championship contenders.
And that's the fact that Charles Leclerc is quietly putting together a dream season.
First, he wins the Monaco Grand Prix. Winning Monaco is already a feather in the cap for an F1 driver, but it's also his home race, so that might just be one of the most special wins imaginable. Especially when you consider how miserable Charles' luck at Monte Carlo has been before now.
Then, he wins the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari for the second time, no less. He's won his own home race and he's won his team's home race, what more could you ask for in a season?
Well, the first race weekend back from his birthday on October 16th, Leclerc goes and leads home a Ferrari 1-2 at the United States Grand Prix. Now, I'm an American so the USGP is a special event for me - I wrote a blogpost all about its history last week - but I recognize that isn't the case for the Monegasque Leclerc.
Still, a GP win is still an amazing birthday present.
What a way to bounce back considering he was disqualified last year for plank wear as well.
So, that's three wins on the season, each one having something special about it. Does that make it the best season ever for a non-contender?
Well, that's a difficult question.
First things first, what do we consider a contender? In a way, everyone is contending for the championship, so they're all contenders.
Is it a potential shot at the championship then? Eh, probably not, because Leclerc still potentially has a chance at winning the championship.
So how about this: being a contender is having a realistic chance at the championship. So the championship leader and the direct challengers.
This year, I'd argue that's just Max and Lando, since Max has had the best car for years and started the season with easily the best car, while Lando has benefited from a recent surge by McLaren.
For another example, in 2007, I'd argue that Raikkonen, Alonso, and Hamilton were all contenders, but Massa was not.
So how about Massa's three-win season that year?
Well, he won Bahrain, Spain, and Turkey.
Two places without much connection to him, and then a track he already won at the year before.
In that respect, I'd argue 2006 was a more meaningful season for Massa. His first year in a Ferrari, he's far off Alonso and Schumacher, but he takes his first win at Turkey and then gets to win his home race at Brazil, solidifying his position as best of the rest.
Button 2010?
Eh, he's the reigning champion going into a good team like McLaren and ends up dropping away from the championship pack after Korea, and only takes two wins to his name: Australia and China.
I can't think of a reason those races would be special for him.
What about Button in 2011? Is he a contender that year? That's actually hard for me to say. He's second, he was painted as the challenger to Vettel, but he finished more than a hundred points off. Is that much of a rivalry?
Then again, can we really say 2011 only had one contender?
I'm not sure.
Canada, Hungary, and Suzuka are a decent set of tracks if you're gonna take three wins in a season, especially given how Canada went down, with it being Jenson's career drive.
That one could count then, I reckon.
How about further back in history?
What about 1966, when Ludovico Scarfiotti did literally two races - Germany and Italy - and won the latter. An Italian winning the Italian Grand Prix in a Ferrari has got to be special, right? Especially when you consider that this is the last time an Italian won the Italian Grand Prix. Not just in a Ferrari, but at all.
I suppose it's also as close as F1 has ever gotten to that 2006 Valencia Grand Prix in MotoGP where Troy Bayliss returned to MotoGP, filling in for the injured Sete Gibernau at one race at Ducati.
A race with Bayliss proceeded to win.
Troy hadn't won any races in full seasons with Ducati in 2003 and 2004, nor in his partial campaign with Camel Honda in 2005, but he comes back in 2006 as a replacement rider for one race and goes on to win that thing.
It's a wonderful racing moment, and Scarfiotti at Monza in 1966 is probably as close as F1 ever got to that.
Oh here's one.
Jody Scheckter in 1976. The whole world is watching Hunt vs. Lauda, McLaren vs. Ferrari, and here's Jody Scheckter in a six-wheeled Tyrrell casually winning the Swedish Grand Prix, taking four second places, and ending the season as best of the rest.
The Swedish Grand Prix was a great race for these one-off weird winners actually. Scheckter in the Tyrrell P34 in 1976, Jacques Laffite in the Matra V12 powered Ligier in 1977, and of course 1979 with Niki Lauda winning in the fan car.
Ooh, speaking of 1977, I think we have a contender!
...A contender for non-contenders? Yes actually.
Mario Andretti in 1977. He's got the Lotus 78, the first ground effect car in Formula One history, and it's not quite ready to win the championship, but it's still going on a tear.
Winning the USGP West at Long Beach, a home race for Andretti. Then winning at Spain and France, and finally winning the Italian Grand Prix, the other race Mario could call home. That sounds like an awful good season to me, potentially even better than Leclerc this year. He also finished third that year, so it lines up there as well.
How about this? We'll see if Leclerc can win another race or two this year, and if not, then I'll give it to Andretti. 1977, the best championship season for a non-contender.
Feel free to leave any notable seasons I missed in the comments below, I'm eager to hear what seasons y'all can come up with.
P.S
In other news this weekend, we had the Australian Grand Prix in MotoGP. Jorge Martin won the sprint and Marc Marquez the main race. The sprint was pretty uneventful save for a few scary crashes right at the end - particularly Bezzecchi and Vinales in turn one, with both riders thankfully walking away okay - while the race saw a pretty dramatic battle between Martin and Marquez at the end.
I don't exactly cheer for either guy, so it was a bit meh for me, but at least Phillip Island put on a good race.
As for NASCAR...quite frankly I didn't watch this weekend. I was watching F1 and after that I had a headache and I was mad about the Max/Lando stuff, so I just didn't want to bother with it. I hear Logano won though, which means he goes on to the championship four. Cue up the even year memes.
Even Penske tweeted a joke about that.
Penske tweeting jokes. Heh, that's a new one.
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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 2 years ago
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The Taste of Champagne - Carlos Sainz
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Ah Monza. The most Ferrari of all weekends on the calendar. You were excited, and so was Carlos. But you were also really nervous. You both knew that Max would prove difficult at the start, but he had put it on pole the previous day. 
Carlos had been stressing about it all evening and all morning, and it was understandable. The majority of the fans that you could see in the stands, from the garage, were dressed in scarlet as the flags with the prancing horse were waved around. 
So many donned the '16' or the '55' of the Ferrari boys, and they wanted a win just as much as Charles and Carlos did. But, a win wasn't expected. That was pretty much reserved for Max at this point. But that didn't mean they couldn't put it on the podium. 
Before you let him have the time to himself to focus before the race, you thought you'd reassure him. "Hey, how you feeling?" You asked, standing beside him. 
"Scared, excited, nervous," he nodded, turning to look at you, "So a mix of everything, really," watching as his car was getting ready to be taken out onto the grid. "Well, no matter what happens out there, I'll be proud of you. And, most importantly, they'll be proud of you," you said, motioning to the crowds in the stands.
"They adore you, Carlos. They're just glad to get to see you race. Even if you came last they'd be cheering you home," you told him, watching as a small smile sprawled across his face. 
"Well then, I've got to give them what they want," he smirked, pulling his race suit up and threading his arms through the sleeves. He zipped it up, but your hands found their way to the velcro that fastened the neck straps on.
You pressed the pieces together, then pulled him in by the neck for a tender kiss. "Good luck, but you don't need it," you smiled, leaving him to get in the zone for racing.
"Thank you," he said as he watched you walk away to your spot in the garage. As everyone set off for the formation lap, everyone expected the five red lights to be going out any minute, but then the camera panned to Yuki Tsunoda pulling over and you heard his radio saying there had been an engine failure.
The cars all lined up on the grid, waiting for the race to start, but it didn't come. Race control sent the cars out on another formation while they decided what they were going to do with Yuki's car. They all got back into their grid spots, but there was still no race start in sight.
You sat there as the drivers were asking what was happening, and the teams could only tell them what they knew, and that wasn't very much. You saw as the mechanics were all lining up at the end of the pit lane to go out and stop the cars from overheating. 
In your ears, you heard Carlos saying that they would have to do another formation lap, and the engineers couldn't do anything but agree with him. You were panicking slightly, since you didn't want him to be put off by the chaos of this happening. 
Typical, it had happened on the one day that Carlos was on pole and he needed to concentrate more that ever. But, you knew he'd keep his cool, he'd been doing this for long enough. Eventually, the mechanics all scurried back to the garages, exhausted from running around the place like maniacs. 
They were sent off onto the third, and hopefully final, formation lap of the race and your heart was jumping out of your chest in anticipation and nerves. The five red lights lit up, and went out. Max lunged for Carlos, Charles lunged for Max behind.
Carlos managed to stay in front as you bounced your legs nervously. For fourteen whole laps, Carlos managed to stay in front, and you couldn't be prouder of what he had already done. He had defended brilliantly, but Max managed to slither around him. 
Everyone in the garage audibly gasped in disappointment, but his car was quicker. You thought that maybe Charles could keep Checo back, but he had DRS and eventually sailed past him. You heard Checo over the radio, saying Carlos needed to leave the space.
You couldn't help but giggle at it, but you were also scared that Carlos could possibly get a penalty. But, once Checo had scooted around Carlos, he stopped complaining. You were all gutted that the Ferrari 2-3 had been taken away, but you couldn't wipe the smile off your face at seeing Carlos in a podium position. 
As the race slowly got towards the end, Charles decided he thought it would be fun to try and joust with Carlos for the P3. Everytime he tried to lunge down the inside, you audibly winced. At one point, they nearly made contact and you thought your heart was going to jump out of your throat. 
The nerves you felt almost made you feel ill, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. You heard the radio beep in your ears, and you thought one of them was going to say that they had gotten damage from the other and couldn't finish the race. 
Thankfully, it was the sweet sound of Carlos, telling them to 'Bring it home!'. You couldn't help but repeat the words as him and Charles hurtled down the main straight, practically side by side. 
You took your headphones off and started cheering, but you needed to see Carlos as he pulled into the Parc Ferme. You were stood there, next to all of the Ferrari mechanics as the cameras were fixed onto Max. 
As you waited for him, you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming sense of pride that he had done it. He didn't had a break through the whole race, and he had done absolutely brilliantly. After hugging the engineers, he spotted you and walked straight up to you. 
"You did phenomenally!" you shouted over the noise, throwing your arms around his neck over the barrier. "That was exhausting," he laughed, pulling out of the hug.
"It might have been, but you hear that?" You said, stopping talking and gesturing over to the stands. "Max may have broken the record, but they're all cheering for you," you said, unable to stop smiling. "I am so proud of you," you gushed, pulling him for another hug.
"Go on, go and get ready for your podium," you smiled, watching as he went to go and do his interview with Nico.  You ran to get a good spot under the podium, and cheered with everything you had as e was announced and walked out onto the podium. 
The fans were screaming with you, and you wanted to frame the moment. He had raced so well this weekend, and you couldn't have been happier. Just getting to see him smile as he stood there, in the striking scarlet of Ferrari, was all you ever needed. 
As the Dutch national anthem played, he found you in the crowd and sent you a sneaky wink as the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Even after being with him for a few years, you never got used to the little things that made you fall in love with him all over again. 
Carlos was the last person to be presented with his trophy, and you couldn't help but think it was because he was the hero of the hour in Monza. You could tell by the smirk on his face that he was lapping up every second of it. He loved to be in the spotlight, and he completely deserved it. 
He was motioning for the crowd to cheer louder, and louder they did cheer. He was their hero of the day, and he knew that. Hoisting the trophy in the air, the fans cheered, but none of them were as zealous as you. You jumped and clapped for him,  waiting for the champagne to be popped open. 
Carlos sprayed it at Checo and Max, before turning over to the crowd. He shook the bottle over everyone, and you felt some of the droplets land on you from the spray. The look of pure joy and elation on his face was beyond priceless, and you wanted to freeze time and stay there forever.
Eventually, they walked off the podium and you knew you would find Carlos in the motorhome. You struggled to shuffle through the hordes of delighted Ferrari fans and found yourself in the very crowded paddock. 
It took a while, but you were in the Ferrari motorhome and your eyes were wandering around the place. "Y/N, driver's room," Charles told you as he walked by. He knew why you were there - well, everyone did. 
You pretty much ran there, and you didn't even bother with knocking on the door. You wasted no time in flinging your arms around his neck and hugging him as hard as you could. Pulling back, you couldn't help but notice how good doing well looked on him. 
He was practically glowing, his hair was ruffled to perfection and champagne was still practically dripping off him. "Well hello to you too," he smiled, putting his hands on your waist.
"You have no idea how proud of you I am right now," you said, moving your hands to his face. "You physically could not have done any better," you gushed.
"Thank you, I tried my best," he chuckled, looking down at you. Having you that proud of him made his heart flutter in his chest. After all, everything he did was for you, and having you there was better than any trophy he could ever get.
That smile on your face was nicer, more special, more decadent than any champagne or win. "You're brilliant," you told him, pulling his face closer to you. "Not as brilliant as you are," he said, stealing your lips with his. He tasted like champagne and victory, and there was simply nothing that could compare to it. 
"You taste like champagne," you smirked against his lips, lapping up all of it. Sure, it was good on a normal day, but it tasted even better with success tied to it. "Tonight, you can have as much as you want," he said, pulling you back in. 
Without breaking the kiss, Carlos picked you up and into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pushed the door closed, and victory had never tasted sweeter.
A/N - I love this man so much it's not even funny. He brought it home, he looked incredible while doing it, and he made us as proud as we could have possibly been. Vamos querida!
|masterlist|
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ofeliaxoxo · 2 months ago
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about charlos **** **** – that one snippet you wrote bounces around my brain constantly like woah.
i also think the shame and kinkiness and feralness are kind of part of the fun of it. i love the idea that charlos are both the kinds of guys who have had LOTS of really fun and hot but not all that freaky sex in their lifetime. then they start messing around with each other and get all kinds of weird about it (see also the whole biting thing, loved that in your charlos and in general)
and then charles (who really has to be the initiator with this, because come on 👀) has this one thing he's really weird about. like he knows it's weird. he'd never bring it up with a girl – but somehow carlos finds out because charles keeps dropping less than subtly hints semi-on purpose... carlos is not super into it initially but as nr1 charles manager he indulges him and says yeah sure let's try that. he's cool about it. starts planning.
and ultimately it would be a peak intimacy moment for them. and also really hot and depraved 🙃
I feel like you literally read my mind like these are my thoughts EXACTLY. Like idk what it is about Charles but he Screams that to me and now in fairness it’s my thing in general but it’s him specifically that I diagnose with This idk why. It just works in my head
I have the exact same scenario for them like this would be well into the established relationship. I like the idea of them experiencing sexual firsts together that are more like pushing the boundaries of what they thought they wanted or it was ok to want. I’m very into the idea of them gradually getting more specific with it. Like they start off having very “typical” sex or like keeping things to a certain dynamic but the more their relationship progresses the more they develop their idiosyncrasies and the things they like. I like to imagine them sort of discovering things as they go and being knocked sideways by how hot they find something (control freak Carlos enables So Much thinking in my mind….of many different flavours. Embarrassingly I have devoted much thought to my own version of established relationship charlos)
So Charles is like This Is Weird As Fuck no one could Ever accept this but then once Carlos finds out he’s like well I’ll try anything (with you specifically) once. And Charles is so desperate for it which Carlos finds unbearably hot
It’s very romantic to me like on Charles end the idea that your partner will still be into you with all your weird things, like an acceptance thing, and then for Carlos the idea of still being so into someone, so it’s like even if it isn’t my thing necessarily I’m into it because it’s you. Carlos starts off being like ok I’m doing this for Charles but then he gets way more into it than he expected, and the second time they try it he’s the one who initiates it which is very reassuring for Charles.
OKAY look away!! Don’t look at me here! but imagine. They’ve tried it once and Only once. The scenario from my snippet maybe, which was at home and planned and very controlled. Now they’re at a party they’re wearing suits everyone’s drinking. Charles puts down his drink and tells Carlos he’s gonna go to the bathroom. Carlos says no don’t and gives him back his drink. He’s like…Oh….and finishes his drink…there’s such a thrill in it for them the rest of the evening and once they get home Carlos pins Charles fully clothed back against the wall of the shower a thigh pushed between his own…Charles is begging like no im serious I can’t hold it and Carlos is like I know just let go but Charles is trying so hard to hold on he can’t believe Carlos is this ok with it…ok well you know what happens next…
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