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#charles leclerc fanfic
thef1diary · 3 days
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Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL
Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.
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© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission
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Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.
pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles
wc: 3.1k
Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp
"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.
You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.
He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.
The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.
Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.
However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.
Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."
"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.
"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."
Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.
"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."
This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"
"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."
"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.
While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.
"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.
Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.
It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.
Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"
"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.
Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."
He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"
Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."
You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"
You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.
He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"
"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.
You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.
That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.
Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.
"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."
You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.
There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.
"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."
Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.
"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."
You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."
Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.
Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.
Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.
You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.
Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.
Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.
While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.
Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.
Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.
"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.
"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.
Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.
You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.
Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.
Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.
"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.
His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"
Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.
Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.
Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.
Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.
Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.
"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.
You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.
However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.
He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.
Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."
Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.
Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.
Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.
Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.
Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.
Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.
Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.
With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.
Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.
Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.
Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.
It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.
Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.
You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.
Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo
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landonfour · 2 days
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xii
part eleven - part thirteen
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ your life turns upside down when the worst thing happens. Charles takes this as his cue to make amends but lando doesn't appreciate any of it.
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ sorry but not really but you have to love a little chaos <3 also, I don't like how this turned out but that's because I've had to redo it twenty times today because tumblrs a little bitch and won't let me safe stuff that's in my drafts so I hope you enjoy it 💀
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y/nusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 763,679 others
y/nusername week 12. 🇬🇧
view all 1,452 comment's
oscarpastry the bracelets 😭
norrizz still not over zoë and lando their little fistbump before the race 🥺
↳ norry4 that's his lucky charm for sure
mclaren our boys! 🧡
notrell my girl is looking fire but there's no simping lando in sight :(
charles_leclerc ma princesse ❤️
↳ chilisainz I know this is probably about zoe but something tells me this is about y/n too 💀
yukisan no you're right, he's got y/n on his mind as well 🤡
chilisainz that's probably why lando has been shooting daggers at Charles the last couple of days lol
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
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lorarri · 1 day
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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚🇾🇪 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ it's very well documented that you and your teammate don't get along so when you are forced to spend off season together let's say things get interesting ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ charles leclerc x fem! ferrari! f1 driver! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ this was actually super fun to do but god was finding an fc a pain so enjoy! ❩
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❨ series masterlist | main masterlist ❩
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BOSS MAN
okay so the team have decided that you and charles will spend winter break together to try and improve on your relationship
as to avoid the two of you take each other out
again
this is not up for discussion
FAV EMPLOYEE
alr great talk
better start looking for a new driver
cuz I will probably end up killing him by the end of this
yourinstagram . 10min ago
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seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 79,379,469 others
user replied to your story!
omg enemies to lovers arc has begun
user replied to your story!
the way I just know this is about charles
user replied to your story!
forced proximty yummy
landonorris replied to your story!
try to bring him back in one piece
no promisses
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DICKHEAD
if it makes you feel any better I'm not happy about this either
MISS ANGER ISSUES
and somehow even with that information
it still fails to make me feel better
DICKHEAD
so we are staying in monaco right?
MISS ANGER ISSUES
umm no?
why would I wanna stay in white man country
DICKHEAD
cuz we have to spend time together???
MISS ANGER ISSUES
well I'm going back to yemen for the break so...
come or don't not my problem
DICKHEAD
isn't most of the food spicy out there
MISS ANGER ISSUES
you lack of strength when it comes to eating spice is not my problem dude
like I said come or don't
I don't care
DICKHEAD
...fine when are we catching a flight
MISS ANGER ISSUES
in 4 hours
DICKHEAD
wait that's not enough time for me to pack
DICKHEAD
welp
sucks to suck better start packin mr monaco
yourinstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc landonorris 78,379,480 others
yourinstagram yemen is where my heart is
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user she def took this after she killed charles
user lando def checking in to see if charles is dead or nah
user my queen has returned home
user she def tried to kill mr monaco with spicy food
user that coffee is most likey made with charles tears
user okay no more talking about charles can we talk about how good-looking Y/N is
user charles in the likes fred must have forced him to put on the friendly act
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yourinstagram and charles_leclerc . 3hrs ago
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seen by landonorris lewishamilton 76,380,429 others
user replied to yourinstagram story!
we see you with the matching stories miss thing
landonorris replied to yourinstagram story!
took you guys long enough to fall in love
ikr
user replied to charles_leclerc story!
that flower and that hand look mighty familiar sir
user replied to charles_leclerc story!
glad you and mother finally decided to get together
charles_leclerc
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liked by totowolff landonorris 78,480,482 others
charles_leclerc she hated me now she loves me :)
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TOTO
you owe me 1 million euro's fred
FRED
stfu toto
why can't you be wrong for once in your life
TOTO
cuz I'm the best
FRED
if that were true I shouldn't have been able to take lewis so easily
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─ requested by . . .
@cialovesklopp ─ heyy, so as request for Yemen i wanted to ask for a Yemeni! Driver for Mercedes x Lewis (or ferrari x Charles) where they maybe can’t stand each other at the beginning but then they’re forced to spend off season together to get along and they visit readers home country and then it’s just soft launching and everyone’s surprised because they all remember how they couldn’t stand each other (and there’s Toto who bet on them with the other team principals and he wins like lots of money because he was sure they would fall in love after that trip) 🫶🏾🫶
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leclerc-hs · 2 days
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soft bath tub sex blurb - cl16
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leaving this here.....xoxo smut under the cut!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“That’s it.” He groaned as your walls squeezed his cock tightly. The repetitive slap of your skin against his echoed the walls of the bathroom as he pressed your chest over the edge of the bathtub. The water spilling out of the tub with each thrust of his hips, he couldn’t find it in himself to even care. Not with the soft little moans escaping past your lips.
You whimpered softly, the contrast between the cool edge of the bathtub and the warm water creating goosebumps that rippled across your skin, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine.
His strokes were slow but calculated. Hitting that spot deep inside your tummy just right.
“M’so in love with you.” He mumbles against the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending tingling sensations to your spine as he leaned over, enveloping your body in his embrace like a cocoon. “Ma jolie fille.” My pretty girl.
 His hands fisted your hair as he fucked into you, your pussy clenched around him with each profound statement he made.
“Une si bonne fille.” Such a good girl.
“Tu vas tout prendre, hm?” Gonna take it all?
The hand wrapped in your hair pulled your body up, pulling your back flush with his chest as he leaned back on his knees. His other hand trailed down to your waist, sliding you up and down his cock, guiding your movements.
“S’il te plait,” Please. You turned your head to the side, catching his gaze as his fingers tightened around the flesh of your hips, a silent testament to the struggle within him, as if he were desperately holding onto his own resolve.
“Yes, mon ange.” His voice was soft and gentle in your ear. “Squeeze m’cock. Cum all over me.” He begged as you picked up the pace of your hips.
“Show me how good you feel, mon ange.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 days
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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {9}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You finally find out just how perfect your boyfriends are as birthing partners. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, all the birthing glory one can expect (it’s not a pretty thing irl) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go One
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You woke up to too much warmth but the thrill that shot through you washed away all lingering sense of sleep. Charles and Lando were curled around you having arrived home sometime during the night, replacing the giant Pokemon teddy that was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor beside Lando. 
“Lan,” you whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. A deep groan exhaled with a snore before he slowly blinked his eyes open and found you grinning down at him. “There’s my Winner.”
His smile was drowsy as he rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms so your head could rest on his chest. His steady heartbeat thumped against your ear and you didn’t realise how quiet the nights had been without hearing that sound beneath your head. 
“Did it for you, babe.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm, I had to do something big to make sure you didn’t forget me while we were gone.”
“Showoff.” You giggled and draped a leg over his, cozying up as much as you comfortably could. “I missed you.”
“Missed you. Glad to see you are in one piece too. I knew my little girl would wait patiently for us to get home.” Lando carefully unwrapped himself from you and shuffled down the bed, brushing up the oversized Quadrant shirt you had stolen from his new merch line. “You can come out anytime now, sweetheart. The sooner the better, if you are ready. Please be ready.”
Lando waited a moment to see if he would get a kick in response but there was nothing and he sighed as he flopped back onto the pillow. “Silent treatment already.”
“She’s probably still sleeping,” you said as you kissed his disappointed frown. “You should go back to sleep too, baby.”
You carefully climbed over him but he caught your hips and trapped you straddling him. You couldn’t see clear enough in the dim light but you were sure his eyes were darkening as he hummed happily. “Can’t sleep with you teasing me like that.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was trying to get up to go pee.” You wiggled enough for him to bite his lip before swinging your leg off and dashing to the bathroom while he groaned at the loss of your body. 
“That wasn’t very nice,” you heard him whine as you closed the door. You would not miss the rapid fire bathroom breaks that came with the last trimester, that was for certain. 
The relief of emptying your bladder was short lived as you wiped and the loud sound of disgust you made had a thump sounding on the bedroom floor before quick feet sprinted into the bathroom, busting the door wide open. Lando squinted against the bright light before finding you still sat on the toilet with the tissue paper still in your hand. 
“What’s wrong? Is that blood? Shit, Charles!”
“Stop!” you hissed before he woke your mother up from her room down the hall. “It’s not…blood…at least I don’t think so…”
Charles skidded into the bathroom looking absolutely dishevelled as he tried to take in what he was seeing. “Amour, what’s wrong?”
“I think I’ve lost my mucus plug.”
“Mucus plug…” he murmured, rubbing his tired eyes as he mentally scanned the pregnancy books he had read with Lando. 
“Yes!” Lando shouted, his hand turning to an enthusiastic fist. “That means you might be going into labour soon.”
Charles’ eyes widened with excitement and they embraced each other with a laugh, proudly chatting about how their daughter was a good girl waiting for them to come home. 
“Excuse me,” you interrupted, clearing your throat. “Can I have some privacy?”
They looked a little sheepish and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door so you could finish your routine. It was only when you were washing your hands, facing yourself in the mirror that you saw the excitement in your own eyes. Praying the old wives tale was right, you dried your hands and stepped back into the bedroom. 
The bedside lamps glowed warmly and a cosy space was created for you on a mountain of pillows between the two men who nearly vibrated with anticipation. “Please don’t get your hopes up, it may still take days,” you said as you crawled up the bed.
“I know,” Lando replied while he fretted about getting the pillows in the right place to support your back and belly, as well as one between your knees. “You should try get as much sleep as possible while you can.”
Charles smiled at the doting father-to-be, falling even more in love with him. Lando had always been portrayed as the carefree one and the most immature driver on the grid, but this was the side the tv show never aired. Lando was a caretaker and a homemaker at heart, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. 
When Lando looked up after tucking the blankets in around you he found Charles staring at him and lifted a brow in question. Charles just smiled and shook his head. “I am the luckiest man.” 
A smirk kicked up on Lando’s lips as he pointedly looked over you and him. “Debatable.”
“We are the luckiest men,” Charles compromised with a laugh before brushing his knuckles softly over your relaxed face. 
“Yes, we are.”
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“Charles, can you come help me?” 
The shower was steaming up after spending the last 15 minutes unsuccessfully shaving. The cloud of steam cleared out when he opened the glass door but as soon he saw the position you had got yourself into he barked out a laugh that drew Lando into the bathroom too. 
“Har-har, laugh it up,” you drawled. “I’m not having my baby’s first introduction to the world through a forest, now can one of you please help me?”
“Mon amour, I am sure women were giving birth before these were invented,” he said as he accepted the bright pink razor with an uncertain look on his face. “You don’t have to…uh…landscape.”
“Lando, will you please get rid of this bush before I call in the professionals?”
He was still eyeing up the length of your leg you had managed to kick up onto the lowest recessed shelf that had a few half empty bottles of shampoos knocked over. Even with the position you hadn’t been able to reach around your belly to get to the place you wanted to. “Who are the professionals?” he asked curiously as he took the razor off Charles and got down on his knees. “Kika?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll never understand female friendships,” Charles chuckled, leaning back against the tiled wall to critique Lando. Your main focus was on balancing and keeping as still as possible because you did not want to get cut in such a delicate area - though it couldn’t be worse than what you had read about episiotomies during delivery. “Shave with the hair, same direction.”
“Sorry, not all of us have to shave daily,” Lando muttered sarcastically before holding the razor out. “Why don’t you do it then?”
Charles rolled his eyes but took it and knelt beside Lando. “Can you…?” You couldn’t see what he gestured to Lando but you got a fair idea when you felt Lando’s hands working with Charles to keep the skin taut, and mortifyingly, when he parted your folds to get the stray hairs that grew there. 
“I never want to talk about this,” you said as they both rose up and shared a laugh. 
“You might want to start trying to kick start labour then,” Lando teased. “You have about five days before it’s time for another trim.”
“If you have any ideas, I am all ears.”
As it turned out, his idea to kick starting labour was actually what had got you pregnant in the first place. Though you felt breathless and bloated, sex was a good way of distracting yourself of what was going to come because whether you were ready or not, a baby could not stay in utero forever. 
“Are you sure?” Charles asked when Lando suggested turning the lights down low and locking the bedroom door. They were both more than eager to reacquaint themselves with your body after being away but Charles was certain Lando had just made it up as an excuse to get laid. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I know I’m horny but it’s also true.”
You had let them towel dry you after washing away the shaving cream and let them bicker about the merits of the idea while you climbed onto the bed. You had been planning on getting up for the day after your shower but now that you were again in the soft sheets you realised how much more comfortable it was on your back. 
“...nipple stimulation, see, says it right here.”
You did a small ab crunch to peek over your stomach and saw Lando and Charles comparing their phones, but the small pressure the movement put on your belly caused a strange sensation between your legs. Warm liquid leaked over your thighs and onto the sheets and you thought you couldn’t get anymore embarrassed as you scrunched the sheets tight around your body. 
“Can I have a moment alone?” you asked quietly, their faces freezing at the question that interrupted their discussion on best positions to start with.
“Pourquoi? You know it won’t hurt the baby, you don’t have to worry, amour.”
“It’s not that,” you muttered, self-consciously hiding deeper in the covers.
“Don’t be shy, baby, you are still the most beautiful woman.”
You swallowed twice with your dry throat and shook your head as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Please?”
“Non, what’s wrong?” They both stepped closer and froze when you cried even more, confusion, hurt, worry all flitting across their faces.
“I wet myself,” you whispered as you hid your face, “and I can’t move.”
Their phones were abandoned, all thoughts of lust erased for good reason as you waited for disgust to replace it. “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets,” Charles said, taking charge. “Come on, amour, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I can’t move,” you said with a vehement shake of your head. “It keeps leaking out.”
“Uh, baby,” Lando said as he reached for the sheets clutched in your hands. “That sounds like your waters have broken.”
The plans changed quickly when you finally loosened your grip enough to let Lando pull them away. The damp spot was much smaller than your mind had made you believe but when they helped you to stand up a full torrent of it gushed out. 
“Yup, time to call the midwife,” Lando said aloud as he confirmed you wouldn’t have to die of embarrassment. 
“On it,” Charles answered as he made the call while getting dressed. Lando still followed his first order and helped you back to the shower while Charles spoke in French, too quick for you to understand. 
By the time you had been washed for the second time in under an hour Charles had gathered the hospital bag and laid out some clothes for you and Lando. The bedsheets had also been stripped and dumped in the corner of the room but you still spotted the wet patch on the carpet beside the bed. 
“I’ll have someone clean it up before we get home,” Charles assured you with a kiss to your temple. “We should go tell your mother that it’s time.”
She reacted as expected, a squeal of happiness, a strong hug, a touch of worry, before more excited laughs. Parking at the hospital was always a nightmare so the plan was for her to drop you off outside the maternity ward and go to Pascale’s to wait for updates with her. 
Phones rang and messages beeped to the point you told everyone to put their phones on silent. As much as you were happy to hear the best wishes and updated on Lando’s family travelling from England, the sounds were messing with your concentration. 
It didn't feel like long but by the time you were dressed, the car was packed, you had chosen your snacks and your immediate family were contacted, almost two hours had passed. In those two hours the tight feeling in your back was getting more painful and no matter what position you were in, sitting or standing, there was no easing the aching pressure on your belly.
“Baby, come see this,” Lando called out, pointing to Max’s apartment. You shuffled your way to him with Charles offering his arm to steady your steps and found a large banner spread across your brother’s balcony. 
MODE: PUSH!
Despite the pain, you laughed as you saw him waving from the other tower apartment. You waved back before letting Charles guide you back inside. You took one last look around the apartment as you headed to the front door, knowing the next time you stepped foot inside it would no longer be just the three of you. The next time you returned, everything would change.
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It seemed too easy. The hours passed by with the numbing assistance of gas and air, and the shadows crossed the room as morning turned to afternoon. The birthing pool became your favourite space to relax until you were a wrinkled prune. Floating in the tepid water took the weight of your belly off your spine and Charles had a cloth that he dipped in and used to wipe the sweat from your forehead.
“Open up, baby,” Lando said softly as he took a seat at the edge of the oversized bath and held a fresh ice chip up to your lips.
Doctor Turner had arrived not long after the hospital midwives had settled you into the room and announced you were 5cm dilated. You thought that meant you were halfway but time seemed to slow in response. The doctor that had been your regular OB GYN since moving to Monaco was happy to take a backseat and let Lando and Charles take care of you. She actually seemed quite impressed with them, not as much as you were.
“Is it okay if we dim the lights?” Lando asked. He had noticed your eyes squinting against the harsh fluorescents overhead and Doctor Turner reached for the switch that was behind her makeshift desk she had taken up by the door. Her hand jotted down notes, twisting her wrist to check the time on her watch before writing more.
“That’s better,” you sighed as you opened your eyes and looked up at your boyfriends. “It’s a shame there’s no jets in this jacuzzi.”
Charles chuckled and dragged the wet cloth over your shoulders and collar. “You make this sound like a spa date, ma chérie.”
“You didn’t happen to bring a face mask, did you?” you teased.
“Sorry, wasn’t on the checklist,” Lando replied with a snort. “Do you want music on again?”
“I never would have pegged you to be a mother hen,” you murmured as you shook your head and smiled. “I’m okay right now.”
Another hour passed and that calm state soon came to an end as the contractions grew stronger, strong enough to take your breath away, and Charles had to remind you to inhale and exhale slowly. The plastic pipe full of gas started to dent beneath your gritted teeth as you bit down with each contraction and groaned deeply. The sound had Doctor Turner rising from her chair to check how far along you were.
Your self consciousness had recessed to the back of your mind as you focused solely on what you body was doing. It was almost the same tunnel vision you had when you were racing and the rest of the world faded away from the track in front of you. You didn’t even blink when her gloved hand dipped into the water and disappeared between your legs.
“Would you like to move to the bed? You’ll be ready to push soon.”
You shook your head as another wave of pressure clamped down on your abdominal muscles, contorting them until it felt like they were going to snap. Just as quickly as it came on the contraction ended and the pain vanished as you slumped back against the pool edge. Water splashed over the lip but Charles and Lando didn’t even notice as they flexed their hands you had clenched tight.
“Can I stay in here?”
“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile as she took her gloves off. “We are going to do whatever is most comfortable for you.”
She went back to add the latest note to her records but rather than sitting down she returned back to the edge of the bath, a fresh pair of gloves on her hands and a towel on her lap.
“When you said soon…?” you trailed off as another painful contraction began and it felt like your body was going to split in two.
“Do you feel the urge to push?” she asked as she leaned over the edge to look.
You couldn’t answer her as your feet found purchase on the bath walls and braced, your body bearing down on its own accord. An arm curled under each of yours, holding you up as you pushed with more effort than any of the workouts Kristian had ever put you through.
“Lovely head of dark hair,” she said with a grin as the contraction ended and both of your boyfriends couldn’t resist taking a peek.
For all his bravado at preparing himself, Lando blanched a bit and they both shot back up.
“When the next contraction starts, I want you to give me a really big push, okay?”
You were exhausted, and you were sweating. God, you hated how it clung to your skin and warmed with your body heat. You just wanted to sleep.
“You’re doing great, Spitfire. It’s nearly over. Just a little more, baby.”
Charles washed your face and neck with cool water, and you realised you had spoken aloud.
There was no warning or build up as your muscles contracted and you folded over yourself, crunching up as you screwed your eyes closed and pushed. It felt futile. All the effort of the last couple of hours had nothing to show and you didn’t think you were anywhere near being finished. The painful stretch between your legs had you ready to tap out and ask for something stronger but then the pressure flooded from you and the breath you held whooshed out with it.
“Here she is,” Doctor Turner exclaimed as she lifted the tiny form out of the water and carefully laid her on your chest before draping the warm towel over the both of you. She gently rubbed your daughter and by the third pat a warbling cry filled the air.
It was only then that you could breathe. Suddenly you were present once again in your body and you could hear the soft cries echoed by Lando and Charles’ happy sniffles.
“She’s beautiful,” you whispered through your hoarse throat.
As if she recognised your voice, her little eyes peeked open and her cries settled. Flecks of gold broke through a myriad of green shades reminding you of when summer ended and the trees began to change colour and fall.
“Did you have a name picked out?”
You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from hers until your vision blurred and you had to blink away the tears. “I think I know one.”
“Yeah?” Lando asked as he carefully caressed her cheek like she was the most precious thing in the world. “What is it?”
“Autumn.” You looked up to see them both smiling at the name, your heart doing a little jump. “Autumn Norris-Leclerc.”
“It’s perfect, mon amour,” Charles agreed with a nod as he kissed your temple. “Princesse Autumn.”
“Ha!” Lando suddenly exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to him and his proud grin - but it was aimed at Charles. “Told you my pullout game was better than yours.”
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i'll look after you | charles leclerc
prompt: everyone close to y/n is worried. she doesn't eat or drink enough and those are two extremely important things, especially this weekend. she will be racing in qatar at all time high temps. most worried is her best friend and teammate lando and secret boyfriend charles leclerc
warnings: discussions about not eating/ taking care of self, angst, fluff, cursing, injury, throwing up?, fear, fluff
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No one expected Qatar to be so hot. Y/n stepped off of the plane, sweatshirt and sweatpants immediately causing her to sweat. She put her sunglasses on. “Who would’ve thought it would be this hot in the morning?” 
Her teammate Lando Norris responded, “Not me.” He pulled at the front of his black t-shirt. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead before climbing into a car.  “Hey.” He tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.
“Yeah?” She looked away from the window. 
“Are you alright?” He frowned. “You’ve just been off. You seem tired and-” He looked down at her figure, “have you been eating enough and drinking? If it's this hot on Sunday you’re gonna need to be fully nourished.”
“I’ve made the weigh-ins every weekend, so don’t worry, I’ll get us points.” She snapped.
“That's not why I’m worried.” He shook his head. “I want you to be alright.” 
The start of the weekend had been more peaceful than usual. Media had less sexist questions, the car felt good, and y/n had been more open to eating. She kept her head down as she went to her first meeting after FP3. She sat across from her trainer as he slid her a vegetable plate across the table. “Eat.”
“You’re wasting my time.” She glared at him. “I thought this was an actual meeting.”
“It is.” He nodded. “I need you to eat and drink as much as possible these next few days. This race is going to be so hot, you’ll lose a lot of water and a lot of weight. I know how serious you are about your racing and with your lap times these past three practices you have a good chance at qualifying front row.”
She sighed, staring down at an unappetizing plate. 
“Just take it to your driver's room with you and take a cold shower.” He pleaded.
“Okay. I will.” Y/n agreed. As she stood up her phone pinged. 
Charles: Come to my room?
                                                           Y/n: Sure.
She managed to subtly sneak herself into Ferrari hospitality and into Charles’ drivers room. “Hi.” She smiled shyly.
“Hi.” He hugged her before kissing her lightly on the cheek. 
“Lucky, you’ve gotten to shower.” She smelled his freshly washed hair, a comforting smell. She watched him as he glanced at the plate of food in her hand. 
“Let's eat.” He smiled, grabbing the plate from her and placing it on a table, ushering her to sit. 
“I’m not very hungry…” She breathed. “I would really love a shower though.” 
“We’ll shower after I see you eat a bit.” 
She took a bite of celery with hummus. Charles brushed a piece of her hair behind her hair, his movements so faint it tickled. He had convinced her to eat a few more vegetables before she decided it was time to wash herself off. He stood up with her, hand on her waist, ready to guide her to the bathroom. “Is it okay if I shower alone?” She whispered, touching his hand. “I’m just really tired and I need a cold shower and I know how you feel about those.”
Excuses to keep him away. “That’s fine.” He smiled. She smiled back at him, a hint of a sparkle. “Can we talk about something after you get out?”
“What is it?” Her smile flickered.
“M’just worried about you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is going to be a tough race.”
“Why are you acting like I can’t do it?” Y/n shook her head, feeling betrayed.
“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that you’re not taking care of yourself!”
“Whatever, Charles.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and I hope you clear your head while I’m in there.” Y/n washed herself, feeling a relief as the cold droplets of water relieved her hot skin. Her head drooped as she tried not to fall asleep cleaning her face. She slowly pulled on a white blouse with jean shorts, easing them onto her achy limbs. She pulled her hair into a braid, knowing the heat outside would dry it within minutes. Charles had passed out on the couch, y/n tiptoed around looking for her shoes.
“Baby…” He mumbled, slowly waking up, “Where are you going?”
She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to go get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.” 
He grabbed her waist before she could walk away. “I thought I was bringing you to the hotel.”
“Charles.” She tensed.
“What?” He sat up, offended.
“I’m stressed and the idea of us being seen together makes me even more stressed.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles’ brows furrowed.
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” 
“Are you sure about that?” He frowned.
“I have to go. I love you and I’ll text you later.” She walked away, shooing off his insecurities. 
The next day, Y/n had made it to Q3 and was starting in third the next day. She was disappointed she didn’t make the front row, but shrugged it off. Lando had pulled her into a hug before she hit the media pin. “Congrats!” He rubbed a hand on her back.
“Thank you.” She hugged him back. 
“You’re very hot…” He moved his hand to her face. “Here, take the rest of my water.” He forced it into her hand, knowing she didn’t drink water enough throughout the day.
“Thanks.” She accepted it, immediately taking a sip. Lando's eyes widened, surprised at her immediate acceptance. She stood outside the media pin and chugged Lando's water, searching for a cooling feeling. She felt a cold towel brace her neck and groaned at the relief. She turned around to see who had applied it and watched as Charles winked before entering the media chaos, no hard feelings from the night before. She followed shortly after.
After an hour of answering cryptic questions, denying answers about her personal life, and bragging about her grid-place she was able to escape. Charles waited for her to get out of meetings and strolled next to her. “Can I come to your room tonight?” She asked.
“Trying to distract me from the fact you’re starting a place behind me?” He joked.
“Just nervous…” She fiddled with her rings. “And you always help with my nerves.”
“Of course you can come to my room, Y/n.” He affirmed. “Always.” A wave of relief flooded over him when he realized he could monitor her closely. 
Y/n walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. It was quickly opened and she was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a glass of water. “It’s freezing in here.” She shivered. 
“Sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Y’know who I saw today?” He looked down at her.
“Who?” She held eye contact, his watercolor eyes gleaming. His eyes grounded her onto this earth. 
“I saw Daniel after qualifying.”
“How is he?”
“He thinks he might be given the opportunity to take over De Vries’ position at Alpha Tauri.”
Her eyes widened. “Jeez.”
“Yeah it’s rough.” He shook his head. The couple continued their chit chat as y/n slowly tucked herself into his bed. Charles sat on the other side of the bed, pulling out a carton of strawberries. “Here.” He gestured her to open her mouth and slowly fed her the fruit. 
“God, that's good.” Her eyes fluttered.
“You need to request some for your room next time.” He smiled. Her mouth formed a line as she delved deeper under the covers, turning the lamp on her nightstand off. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes before feeling Charles’ arms wrap around her. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. “I love you.” He mumbled.
“I love you too.” 
Y/n pulled on a Mclaren shirt and a pair of jeans. “Fuck.” Charles cursed. “What is it?” She folded her collar before checking on him.
“It’s going to be over 100 degrees in that car tonight.”
“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged.
“Do you know how hot that is?” His face was deadpan.
“I’ll figure it out.” She joked.
“No. You’ll drink water and you’re going to eat breakfast with me so I know you eat before the race.”
“Calm down.” She folded her sleeping shirt, breathily laughing.
“This isn’t a joke you could seriously get hurt.”
“Okay.” She played along with his seriousness.
Charles had watched her eat breakfast before they got to track and he had to say his goodbyes. They did their pre-race ritual together. She hugged him, racing suit tied at her waist, his tied the same way. “Be mindful today.” He whispered into her ear. “Be safe.” He reaffirmed.
“You too, Charlie.” She kept a hand in his hair. 
“I have to go.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you no matter what.
“I love you.” She tugged at his hand before letting him go. 
Y/n’s engineer came to see her in the car before the race started. “Drink. That's all I ask of you.” He fastened the bottle of water into the car. “If you begin to feel sick at all, radio us. It is going to be up to 120 degrees in that car, we are not going to blame you for any safe moves. We want you to be safe.” He gave her gloved hand a squeeze. She nodded, pulling her visor down.
She had a good start to the race, keeping her starting position. 10 laps in she called in.
“The visor is super foggy, guys. It’s sweaty in here!” She half-joked.
“Try to wipe it when possible.” Someone responded.
After 40 laps she was told to pit. 
“Pit.Pit.”
“Okay.” Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, the hard tyres wore out pretty quickly.” She tried straightening out her breathing patterns. Drink. She tried to will herself, but her body wouldn’t do it. It was too focused on other things.  She had dropped down to fourth place, behind Lance Stroll. “My seat feels like it’s on fire!”
“Do you need to retire?” Zak responded.
“No, just throw some water on me or something!” 
It was lap 56, two laps left and she had caught up to Lance. 
“He’s struggling on these corners.”
“Be careful around him.” Her engineer radioed. “Something must be wrong, he’s acting erratically.”
She was able to overtake him.
Lap 57. Last lap. Last turn. Y/n reached the final straight.
“P3, P3!” People cheered over the comms, but she swore it was muffled. Everything was blurry as she pulled into the space dedicated to 3rd. She noticed her lover's red car in 2nd and Max Verstappens in first. Charles took his helmet and balaclava off, shaking  the hand of Max. The commentator waiting for interviews began to grow concerned when the third driver had still not gotten out of her car. He whispered around and soon enough word got around to the drivers. She reached her hand up to grasp onto the halo, but fell short.
“Y/n.” Charles peered into the car.
“Yes?” She wheezed. “Just-Just give me a minute-to-get out…” She began to grab at the car again. Multiple stewards gathered around her, plus Max and Charles. Charles placed his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up. “I got sick in my helmet.” She coughed. 
“Shhh…” He took off her helmet quickly. A stretcher was brought to her. 
“I don’t want to leave.” She hiccuped. “I have a podium to cele-” She dry-heaved, nothing to throw up, “Celebrate.” 
“I’m so proud of you.” He pleaded with her to get her onto the stretcher. Her face turned ghost-white.
“I’m really scared.” She whimpered. “And-and I feel like I’m going to faint.” Charles placed his hand behind her head as her body went limp, heart breaking while paramedics attending to her vitals. It was a scene for sure. Blue and red lights from an ambulance blocked the screen below the podium, people from Mclaren that were preparing for a podium celebration were now freaking out for their driver, and Charles Leclerc seemed to be the most worried for someone who wasn’t even his teammate. Those who could only see in from the outside watched as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before composing himself. Love. 
“I’m going to come see you as soon as I can get out of here.” He assured her. “I’m sure everyone will.” Throughout the interviews and the celebrations Charles bit his tongue. He noticed the other worn out drivers. Lance had passed out on the corners towards the end of the race, Logan had to retire, Esteban got sick in his helmet, and the rest of the grid was laying on the floor with wet towels and gallons of water. This was just unsafe. He got away from the track as soon as possible, rushing to the hospital. “Y/n.” 
Tears filled her eyes as she saw him enter the room. “Charlie.” She dropped the strawberry in her hands. He rushed to her, quickly but carefully embracing her. The doctor came in, informing him that she was dehydrated and hadn’t had enough protein. She listened as Charles, the entire grid of drivers, and her trainer coached her on how important a meal plan is and how a meal is not something you can forget. That night Lando fell asleep on the couch and Charles held her as tight as he could.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 14 hours
Text
His Biggest Prize
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: smut!
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After Australian GP, Lewis was counting down the seconds until he got home to you and the kids. It was not a good weekend for him. Not at all and now all he wanted, all he desperately needed was to find comfort in your arms.
It was late at night, close to midnight, when you heard the door of your shared home open. You and Roscoe were lying on the sofa in the living room under a blanket waiting for Lewis. Your two children, Harper and Miles, have been sleeping cause it was long past their bedtime, and your eyes were slowly closing too, but you knew that Lewis needed you and you wanted to be there for him, awake.
You quickly crawled out from under the blanket, waking a snoring Roscoe in the process, and hurried to the door.
"Baby" You welcome him in with a tight hug leaning your head on his shoulder and leaving a lot of soft kisses on his neck.
"Hey, love" He pulls you tighter to him breathing in your scent that calms him right away.
"How are you?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He gives you a smile, but his eyes look terribly sad. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there with you. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Don't worry, baby, I'm okay now. I don't wanna talk about it, I just want to go to bed with you." He says taking your hands in his and softly kissing your knuckles. "Are the kids asleep?"
"Yeah, they wanted to wait for you, but I told them you'll be home late so they'll see you in the morning."
"Good, good."
"Let's go to bed, yeah?"
As soon as you got into bed Lewis pulled you all the way to him holding you tightly as if you were gonna slip out of his arms every second. He was so exhausted that it took him only minutes to drift of to sleep with his head resting on yours.
The next morning you were the first one to wake up, a bit earlier than usual. Your body was still pressed against Lewis' feeling his hot breath against the back of your neck and his morning erection unconsciously poking at your lower back.
One of Lewis' oversized t-shirts served as your nightgown every night under which you were wearing only panties so you pulled it up revealing your butt and rubbing it over the bulge in his boxers making him moan in his sleep.
Normally the kids wake you up every day, but since you got ahead of them this morning, you decided to use that time to show your man how much you missed him, how much he is loved, to show him that he is forever the champion in your eyes.
First you turned and placed a few short gentle kisses on his lips before straddling him, slowly grinding your hips against his crotch and running your hands over his firm tattooed chest.
A smile spread across his face when you leaned down and kissed him below his ear whispering "Good morning handsome" It took him a few seconds to open his eyes and realize your position.
"What a sight to wake up to..You on top of me," His hands find your waist pulling you closer into him. "If I'm not the luckiest man in the world, then I don't know who is. Good morning baby"
"Did you sleep well?" You ask still slowly grinding against him. Your panties were staring to soak with your wetness as you feel his rock hard cock through the thin material pressed against your folds.
"I sleep best next to you" He moans at the friction that you're creating between you two. His hand reaches for your, his, t-shirt pulling it up a little so he can have a better view to the junction of your body.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And what have I done to deserve such a special morning treatment?" He asks admiring you, his fingers pulling the strings of your panties up making your lips part and groan.
"Just wanted to remind you how much I love you before the kids wake up" You tug at the waistband of his boxers pulling them down his thighs and taking his thick cock into your hands stroking him up and down at, for him, excruciatingly slow pace.
"Fuckk, baby" He sighs running his hands over his face and through his hair. His hips raising up begging you to take him.
"Baby, don't tease" He pleads, but you can't help it. You bring your face dangerously close to his shaft swirling your tongue over his tip. He hisses squeezing his eyes shut as you start kissing it, sucking on it and collecting the pre-cum that started dripping out. "I swear I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you don't stop"
As soon as you move and straddle him again, he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes and with the other he moves your panties aside. His fingers quickly glide over your wet slits stopping at your aching clit tapping it and rubbing small circles on it.
"You gonna ride me?" He asks and you nod impatiently. "C'mon then baby, sit on my cock, show me how you do it" Before you slid yourself down on his length, he sat up and leaned his back against the headboard because this way it was much more intimate, he wanted to have you as close to him as possible while watching you ride him.
Lewis wasn't a loud guy, but he loved that you were. It drove him crazy listening to you whimper, moan, scream out his name in bed. But this time he had to make sure you were as quiet as you could be because you didn't want to wake up the kids. So when you sunk down on him, Lewis quickly covered your mouth with his hand shushing your whimpers.
"Shh, baby, you gotta be quiet okay? Can you do that for me?" He asked and you nodded. His thumb slips inside your mouth and you quickly get to work sucking in your cheeks his eyes never leaving yours. "Such a good girl. You're so hot, fuck"
His lips attack yours aggressively pushing his tongue inside while his hands grasp your butt guiding it up and down on his cock, setting the pace he wanted.
"You like that, baby? You like how I'm taking you?" You murmur against his lips. "So big Lew-uh"
"Yes, my girl riding me so good. Your pussy feels so good, so perfect for me." His teeth bite your nipple through your t-shirt making you wince as the pain and pleasure mingle.
You know that time is running fast and that the kids could wake up at any moment so the rhythm of your hips quickens and you start riding him faster and harder wrapping your arms around his neck.
"You gonna cum around me?" He grunts as he feels your walms clench around him. Before you can even confirm, your body trembles and your head falls into the crook of his neck biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming as you come undone around him.
"That's it, yes, yes, ahh. So pretty when you cum" He leans backwards so that he can lift you up and start thrusting himself hard inside you. The sight of you already worn out from his cock makes him twitch pushing him to the edge. "Shit, I'm gonna fill you up, shiiit baby"
As he finishes he doesn't pull out but stays buried deep inside you. You fall on his chest, both of you gasping for air he cooes you telling you how good his pretty girl did as his hands start rubbing your back.
"You're my biggest prize" He says lifting up your chin to look you in the eyes and you smile shyly as your heart flutters at his comment.
"You're forever my champ Lew"
350 notes · View notes
cutielando · 3 days
Text
dating headcannon ~ charles leclerc
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Synopsis: what i imagine dating Charles would be like
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
you both lived in Monaco, practically in the same neighborhood 
best friends since birth, hands down
you supported him from his very first races, always cheering him on and attending his races whenever you could
you’d always loved each other, but were far too stubborn and blind to admit it
which is partly the reason why you only got together after his father passed away
you had been there for him, helping him move on and get better at dealing with his loss while also having to continue racing
he realized that he would never want to be with anyone else because he was convinced that nobody could take care of him better than you could
kissed you in front of everyone when he got a win 
pulled you to him as soon as he was out of the car, not caring about anyone seeing you guys
you would live like royalty, let’s be honest
you moved in with him pretty early on in the relationship, already being familiar with his home from the times you had spent there with him
he would bring you flowers every single day, always your favorite ones
would spoil you rotten, buying you everything you could ever dream of having
whenever you two wanted to get out of the house, you would go on bike rides around Monaco, late at night under the stars
he would come up with the most beautiful dates, almost all of them including being under the starry sky 
attending every single race of his, Charles having insisted that you quit your job so he could take care of you
his fans adored you, having shipped you guys from when you were children
you would always give them a glimpse of what Charles was like behind closed doors, feeding them content which made them appreciated you even more
training with him and Andrea, albeit much less intensely than he did
being besties with Joris, spending so much time with him during the week
you would be a regular person on his Instagram feed and in his vlogs
the fans almost always insist that you stream with him, loving the playful banter and competitiveness that you both showed when playing games together
Arthur would always tease him for being a simp
Charles would literally never stop talking about you
he was in the car? he was talking about you to his engineers. he was working out? he was bragging about you to Andrea
Pascale absolutely adores the shit out of you
she never had any girls, so she was delighted when she found out you and Charles had got together because she finally got the daughter she had always wanted
you went out to lunch with her every week when you wouldn’t travel with Charles, always making sure to keep in touch and keep her updated on how her son was doing
most famous and loved couple on the grid
you loved being in the Ferrari garage, the team having accepted you as one of their own 
would make you tag along on his skiing training trips but wouldn’t actually make you train with him, preferring to keep you safe and warm inside
always makes time for you, no matter how busy his schedule would be
if he was late, he’d never forget to call and let you know. communication was key for him
fairytale love story
let’s be honest, you would never break up
you were it until the end
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314 notes · View notes
sunny44 · 9 hours
Text
Meeting Hazel
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wife&mom!reader
Warnings: hospital, mentions of birth
Summary: Y/n and Charles welcome their second born.
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Finally, the hustle and bustle of the hospital had subsided. After hours of labor, I finally held our little Hazel in my arms. Her angelic face, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, seemed too perfect to be real. I looked at Charles, my husband, who smiled radiantly beside me, his eyes shining with pure admiration and love.
“You did an amazing job, amour.” he murmured, kissing my forehead tenderly. “She’s perfect.”
I smiled, tears of happiness streaming down my face.
“Thank you, Charles. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He smiled. “Literally couldn’t.”
“Very funny.” He gently brushed my forehead. “She’s perfect.”
“She is.” I smiled, looking at her. “But it’s the second time I get pregnant and the second time they look just like you.”
“What can I say, I’m very good at what I do.” He held my hand delicately, his fingers intertwining with mine.
“I’ll always be by your side, Y/n. And now we have our little family complete.”
As we got lost in the emotion of being parents again, a kind nurse gently reminded us that it was time for Charles to go home, take a shower, and rest a bit. He nodded, reluctant to leave our side, but knowing he needed a moment to recharge. But before leaving, he promised to bring Harvé, our three-year-old son, to meet his baby sister.
It was already night, and Charles waited for me to take a shower because I didn’t want to leave her with anyone else, so the nurses helped me in the shower, and after I got out, he said goodbye and left, promising that he and Harvé would be here first thing in the morning.
I went to breastfeed her and held Hazel in my arms, admiring every detail of her little face. She was so small and fragile, and she looked just like Charles.
I was almost certain that she would at least resemble me a little bit, but no, she was his spitting image, just like Harvé is.
Even their eye color was the same.
When Charles returned the next morning with Harvé, my heart filled with joy at seeing them walk through the door. Harve ran up to me, his eyes shining with excitement.
“Mommy! I came to meet Hazel!” he said, trying to climb onto the bed, and Charles lifted him and put him there.
“Be careful buddy. Don’t hug mommy too hard.” He agrees and lies down next to me and hugs me.
I hugged him affectionately, feeling tears welling up in my eyes again.
“She’s here, Harvé. Do you want to meet her?”
He nodded eagerly, his curious eyes fixed on little Hazel in my arms. Charles approached, smiling proudly.
“Harvé, this is your little sister, Hazel.”
he said, holding Harve in his lap so he could see better. “And Hazel, this is your big brother Harvé.”
Harvé looked at Hazel with admiration, his expression softening as he looked at her little face.
“She’s so tiny, daddy.” he observed, gently touching Hazel’s hand. “Does she knows k have Grand-père?”
“You can tell her later when se wakes up.” He nodded.
I smiled, watching the instant bond forming between them.
“Do you want to hold her, Harvé?” I asked, carefully offering Hazel to him.
He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement. Carefully, he held Hazel in his arms, his expression one of pure happiness. I obviously supported her weight, she was just lying in his arms.
“Hello, Hazel.” he said softly, stroking her face with his finger. “I’m your big brother, Harvé. I’ll always protect you.”
My heart melted at Harvé’s kind words. He was so sweet and gentle, so ready to love his little sister from the moment we told him I was pregnant. I knew they would have a special bond that would last forever.
As he held Hazel carefully, he suddenly remembered something and asked to get off the bed and ran out of the room. He returned shortly after, holding a small stuffed animal in his hands.
“I brought this for you, Hazel.” he said, handing the stuffed animal that Carlos gave him when he was born and he’s giving to his little sister. “It’s my favorite bear, uncle Carlos gave it to me. I hope you like it as much as I do.”
I smiled, touched by the look of pure happiness in Harvé’s eyes as he gifted Hazel.
“Oh sweetheart, thank you so much and I’m sure she’ll love it.” I said, holding his hand gratefully. “And I also gonna help her sleep like it did to you.”
Harvé smiled widely, his eyes shining with joy.
“I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy. I love you, Hazel.” he said, looking at each of us with love and tenderness.
We hugged him affectionately, feeling the love and gratitude flooding our hearts. I knew that from that moment on, our family would be united forever, facing life’s challenges together and celebrating its joys.
As I watched Charles hold Hazel in his arms, Harvé beside him with his stuffed bear, I felt complete. The journey to this point had been long and challenging, but now, with our little family by my side, I knew it had all been worth it. And as I held Charles’s hand and watched our children together, I knew I couldn’t ask for anything more in life.
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Bonus scene!
Y/nleclerc instagram post
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Liked by @charlesleclerc, @maxverstappen, @yourmom and others 293729
Y/nleclerc These past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster, Charles and I welcomed our daughter into the world and we couldn't be happier. Thank you to all our friends, family, and even fans who have given us so much support during this time.
Charles, myself, Harvé and little Hazel are incredibly grateful for everything.
179 notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 11 hours
Note
Congrats on 1k angel! So proud of you and your incredible mind! May I please request a Charles Leclerc blurb with number 5 off the prompt list? My bashful, shy self would melt, especially with it being written by your hand.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader y/n (she/her)
genre: blurb
warnings: none
prompt: five [driver] trying to get you to go on a date with him
a/n: thank u so much omg this is the sweetest ask ever i hope this lives up to ur expectations 🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🫶 it's kind of SO LONG hahahaha but it was fun to write tbh i couldn't stop 😛
my masterlist | 1k celebration
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you knew nothing about formula one whatsoever. well, you knew it was fast cars driving around in circles. somehow your best friend had finally dragged you to a race after begging for what felt like forever.
so here you were, stood in the middle of the paddock alone, lost and extremely confused. your friend was dating a driver and had said they would both meet you at his garage, however you did not know where you were at all.
“lost?” you heard a male voice from behind you, startling you slightly. “oh, sorry. i didn't mean to scare you.”
“you're fine,” you brushed it off, “i actually am super lost.”
“yea, you're not keeping it much of a secret.” he chuckled softly, causing a slight blush of pink to rise onto your cheeks. “where are you trying to get to?”
“my best friend, i'm supposed to be meeting her at..” you paused softly as you unlocked your phone to check the garage name you had been texted earlier that morning. “alpine.”
“ah!” the man's eyes lit up with some sort of recognition. “you are kika’s friend. i will take you to her.”
“oh, it's really okay if you just send me in the right sort of direction. you don't need to go out of your way for me,” you smile at him softly, willing him to leave you alone with your eyes – you are much too shy to be spending too much time with a man, a very attractive one at that.
“oh don't worry, i couldn't leave a girl as pretty as you out here alone. follow me,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you before turning on his heel, with you following behind meekly.
“so,” the dreaded word left his lips; now you were going to have to converse with this gorgeous man. “how long have you known kika?”
“my whole life, we went to prom together and everything.” you smile to yourself at the memory, and he lets out a laugh that sounds like music to your ears. the mindless small talk seems to come somewhat easy to you with him, a first for sure. you almost feel disappointed when you see what is clearly the alpine garage ahead of you.
“ah, here we are.” he smiles at you, before suddenly offering his hand to you. “by the way, i'm charles.”
“y/n,” you say and nod softly at him, taking his outstretched hand to shake hesitantly.
“y/n,” he repeats, studying your face much too intently, causing the pink blush from earlier to return to your cheeks. “and what are you doing this evening, y/n?”
you shrug and mumble out a reply along the lines of claiming to be hanging out kika and her boyfriend, pierre. in reality, you have no plans at all but the way this stranger says your name sends your head spinning and butterflies filling your stomach.
“let me take you out.” he states abruptly, catching you off guard completely. you have never had a man as gorgeous as charles hit on you so blatantly before.
a small laugh escapes your lips as you begin to shake your head before speaking, “i'm not sure about that..” you see charles’ brow furrow slightly at your reply; a man so beautiful must be shocked by a rejection.
“y/n! charles! you guys met!” you almost sigh in relief as you hear the voice of your best friend behind you, and the feeling of her grabbing you into an embrace that you gladly return.
“kika, i'm so glad to see you,” you say, muffled into her hair as you hug. she lets go of you, holding you at arms length and studying you intently, making you laugh.
“you just get more and more beautiful every time i see you!” she exclaims in glee before turning to charles, “hi charles, i'm glad you got to meet my beautiful friend.”
“the pleasure is all mine,” he flashed a grin at you, causing the butterflies that lay dormant in your stomach to take flight again.
“anyway, i just wanted to say, y/n,” kika looked at you mischievously, “me and pierre have something on tonight. i wanted to check that you're okay keeping yourself entertained this evening?” you narrowed your eyes at her. you knew exactly what she was doing.
“actually,” you look up at the new voice in the conversation, to see pierre with his arm slung lazily over charles’ shoulders. “how about you and charles hang out, y/n? i think you'd get on.”
“what an amazing idea!” kika lets out a squeal, clapping her hands together.
“no, i–”
“i'll see you tonight then, y/n. 7?” charles winked at you, before turning on his heel and heading back to his own garage, you assumed. you groaned.
“guys...”
“oh y/n/n, you'll thank us later, i'm sure.” pierre, laughing at your obvious discomfort.
156 notes · View notes
charles-leclerizz · 3 days
Text
EPISODE 01 : Start your engine
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🏁 EPISODE AGE RATING : U/A 16+ [contaings swearing]
🏁 GENRE : Drama, Action, Sports, Romance
🏁 WORD COUNT : 10 K [ 10 , 366 WORDS ]
🏁 MUSIC SUMMARY : THE GREATEST BY SIA, PUMPT IT - BLACK EYED PEAS
🏁 CREDIT [S] : "BEHIND THE SCENES" BANNER, NETFLIX PLAY BAR BY ME [@charles-leclerizz], TEXT DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune
🏁 TAGS : MUTUALS GET INSTANT TAGS [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon], OTHERS [@weekendlusting, @woozarts, @mellowarcadefun, @paintedbypoetry, @33-81, @kazuha-pista-badam, @inejghafawifesblog,d3kstar], IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK !
DIRECTORS CUT : first episode children, better get soome snacks and a drink, and i highly reccomend looking at the masterlist, aisha's profile and the porsche f1 team links, since they will explain everything. It is also recommendeed you first read the trailer, which is once again found on the masterlist below.
Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷
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The opening credits of the series begin to play, revealing bold block letters reading,
“Bahrain 2025”
And in the background, the black fades to reveal an aerial view of the landmark circuit, a staple of the history that defines Formula One. As the shot zooms in, we see the morning mist rolling over the grey, freshly re-laid tarmac of the track leading up to the garages of each of the 10 teams, most of them shutdown and blocked away from prying eyes. Though, as the camera moves forward, the view widens and we can see at the very end of the line, the Porsche garage emitting a yellow glow.
The acrylic entrance leaks hues of gold whilst we finally approach the opening where we see Aisha jumping in place, a set of Bose x Porsche headphones sat on her ears, the white body and metallic automobile logo on the muffs bouncing with her movements.
She looks up from her focussed point beneath her, facing the camera that zooms in and captures the determined flare within the pools of her eyes.
 The music, already beginning its powerful bass bursts, dims and briefly we can hear her laboured breathing as she stretches her hands above her and unzips the tight athleisure jacket that she had worn previously for warmth. The adidas logo crumples as she throws it away, revealing a cropped sports bra, white with grey stripes at the sides containing an embroidered Porsche logo on her left breast.
Soon enough, the music comes blaring back and the camera merely turns to follow her body as she begins to run away from the safety of her team enclosure. The scene ends with her exiting the shot, running down the initial straight of the first ever track she will race as a formula one driver.
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“Aisha, what drives you in the world of Formula One?” A deep, cryptic voice off camera asks the driver sitting in shot. She smiles menacingly and leans back against her seat, her hands planted on her elegantly crossed legs as she adjusts the low cut, ‘V’ collar of her waistcoat, the colour matching the iconic Porsche guards’ red, of the rest of her risqué pantsuit.
“What drives me?” She chuckles, a low, raspy amusement that reverberates against the stormy backdrop behind her, “The competition, the domination, it runs in my blood;” She leans forward, as if the camera crew were privy to her obvious need to achieve. Aisha’s thin, golden bangles on each of her wrist’s jingle as she goes to adjust her volumous hair, “it’s not about the winning, it’s about obliterating the finish line.” She shrugs nonchalantly, despite the aggressive competitiveness that crackles in the air.
The voice chuckles at her threatening demeanour, yet continues, “Some media outlets commented on your driving style, since F2 and F3. They say it’s violent. What’s your response?”
Aisha bites her lip, thinking on the best way to diplomatically answer the question, despite her need to curse the people who doubted her.
Instead, she sighs with faux disappointment and her wide, mascara rimmed eyes move down to her rouge and gold nails whilst one of her fingers comes to slip beneath the platinum stud that sits comfortably on the left of her nose.
“Violent?” She asks, her voice barely above a murmur, “They could’ve been more descriptive.” She rolls her eyes once before inhaling, “Try...relentless. When I’m on track, behind the wheel, it’s war. And I aim to be the last one standing, if you can’t get with the program, move out the way. Cause I’m here to win.”
Her promise of no mercy is palpable as she shifts minutely in her seat, tapping her nails against one another whilst waiting for next question.
“What about the rest of the grid?” The interviewer prompts, treading carefully with his words, “Any words for them?”
Aisha scoffs under her breath, uncrossing her legs and flipping over the golden dainty necklace that rests within her exposed cleavage, the glinting logo of her team catches the light whilst she adjusts herself.
“Why words? They’ll know what I’m here for when I pass them. They’ll feel it, the fear, the resignation. I’m a whirlwind, all they can do is get swept up in it, this season, I am not racing against them, their teams or even their car; I’m racing against their hatred of losing to me.”
She smiles at the camera, eyes crinkling at the sides as her nose scrunches, a pure juxtaposition to the threat that peeled out of her mouth like scalding, hot water.
“Before we end. For your fans, what do you want them to know?”
“Hold on for your life, they’re about to witness history on the track. Cause I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to fuck shit up.” Aisha grins wickedly and laughing loudly at the flurry of reactions off camera from the crew that stood behind the myriad of wires.
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Three different scenes are overlayed one another, the first being of Lewis Hamilton, giggling at someone off screen before focussing his large doe eyes onto the interviewer who also sat behind the large camera.
The second being 3X world champion Max Verstappen, who sits heavily onto the provided stool and sips at the can of the sugary energy drink in his hand, Max stared at the camera, a bored sheen coating his crystalline blue irises as the third, and final driver’s scene overtakes his.
This time Charles Leclerc enters the identical set, the Ferrari golden boy had narrowly escaped his fans-who’s screams of joy could be heard in the background as he waved a final time and pocketed a bright red, branded Ferrari pen whilst sighing, glancing around haphazardly.
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“Lewis”
Hamilton perks up at his name, smiling serenely, prompting the interviewer to continue.
“The world of Formula one is ablaze about new entry, Aisha Patel. Do you think, as a seasoned professional, she has what it takes to compete?”
Lewis whistles lowly, leaning back against his seat and wraps his arms around himself, “Damn- starting strong huh?” He snorts once before re-adjusting his posture, “Y’know, we’ve heard of her up here. And she’s talented, but obliterating F3 and F2 does not directly auto-translate to domination on our track.”
“Is that scepticism that I hear?” The interviewer chases after the hesitation in the driver’s voice, like a dog after a juicy bone.
“Call it...” Lewis arches an eyebrow as he mulls over his words, “Healthy cautiousness. I’m waiting to see how she handles the pressure after the lights go out.”
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“Max”
Max hums lazily, as though he had one too many bubbling seltzers that sat, pristine on the refreshments table, “Yeah?”
“Aisha Patel.”
Max clenches his jaw at the sound of her name.
“She’s said to rival your aggressiveness on track, what are your thoughts on her joining your world?”
Max scoffs at the seemingly preposterous statement, “What about her? She’s aggressive, so what? It’s skill that matters here in the big leagues. Give a baby a steering wheel to a supercharged car, that’ll be aggressive. I’m not holding my breath for her. “
“That sounds like someone who’s threatened?” He probes the already on edge driver.
“A threat?” Max chortles as if someone had offered him a mere penny for his thoughts, “I haven’t been threatened since kindergarten. I’ll let her have her try at the status quo, take one for the team and all.”
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“Charles”
The alarmingly red adorned man tilts his head inquisitively at the interviewer, his gentle smile popping his dimples.
“Miss. Patel has been said to be relentless on track, throwing caution to the wind. Your thoughts on her violent debut?”
Charles hums as he nods his head, “It’s nice to see fresh blood on track, bonne, she’s certainly caught people’s attention. Let’s see if she’s all bark and no bite.” He mummers the French praise before shrugging at the end of his sentence.
“You’re excited to compete against her?”
“Of course- who wouldn’t be? New team, new driver. The more varied the sport, the more interesting.” He answers neutrality laced into his words, despite the excited glint in his eye.
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“Thank you for your insights.” The interviewer thanks the men in their tapes, each of them reciprocating with equal politeness.
“Of course,” Lewis grins and claps his hands, turning to start chatting once again as he dismounts from the chair, already walking away.
“No problem,” Max nods his head once, stepping down from his seat whilst receiving a fresh can of Red Bull.
“Cheers mate,” The camera captures Charles leaning forward to shake the interviewer’s hand whilst patting his shoulder, before detaching to go and talk to the gaggle of Ferrari personnel who had gathered within the filming shed.
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The 2025 drivers had gathered onto the Bahrain track, the relentless mid-day sun beating down on them as a few of them had the pleasure of black umbrellas being held above them, whilst other’s held small hand-fans in the large palms, basking in the cool breeze that the battery powered trinket provided.
Aisha walked out, her racing shoes tapping against the tarmac as she made her way towards the others. A few Porsche employees trailed behind her, one of them stayed closer behind her, offering her a metallic, grey hand-held fan along with a chilled bottle of water.
“Thanks,” She murmured, brushing the hair that managed to escape her ponytail, “It’s fucking boiling.” Aisha complained, tugging at her fireproofs whilst another employee came up to her, patting her face with a setting powder as an attempt to dry her skin.
“Can’t really help it, love.” The media admin, Sarah, pointed out removing her focus from one of the jittery interns to the driver, “Now- you’re going to walk out, fans are going to see you. Are you sure you don’t want to hide your face right now?”
Aisha cracked open the bottle in her hand, having pressed the condensation coated plastic against her forehead long enough. She faced away from 2-3 people surrounding her to peak past the acrylic barrier, onto the track, where the rest of the drivers stood haphazardly scattered around the starting position boxes that had been freshly painted onto the concrete polymer.
“It’s fine, I think I’ve already heard all their opinions on me.” Aisha groaned, fanning her face again as she kicked a non-existent pebble beneath her toe, “What could go wrong?”
She peaked out again, like a tense meerkat, only to be surprised with her teammate, Pierre chatting with his former partner, Esteban Ocon. His racing suit was already zipped up fully as he basked in the fan’s unintelligible shouts and squeals, the thick, grey fabric stretched over his body nicely as the different sponsor logos morphed to the wrinkles and dents of the cloth.
“He’s already out there.” She hissed, “Making me look like shit.” Aisha banged the back of her crown against the wall that provided her with the much-needed shelter, from both the sweltering rays and the assessing gazes of the crowd above.
“Nonsense lovey.” Sarah assured her, picking at the hem of her fireproofs and pressing a few of the sweaty, stray strands of hair back into position, “Pedro’s just catching up with some friends.”
“Pierre.” Aisha corrected, pulling up her identical suit from hanging lowly from her waist to her shoulders, thankfully she still had time to leave it unzipped.
“Whatever.” She flapped her hand dismissively, “Baguette man isn’t doing anything you won’t have to.”
“Okay,” Aisha breathed out, keeping her lips taught and still as her rouge lipstick was touched up by another Porsche jersey adorned worker, “My helmet?” She looked around, patting herself, as though it would appear out of thin air.
Sarah looked around her surrounding, panicked, before snorting and pointing to the ledge behind the group, “There ya go babe.” She leaned past Aisha to knock on the head gear.
“I’m a mess,” Aisha whined, picking up her helmet whilst rubbing the glossy exterior with an open palm, she runs her fingers over her last name that’s printed on the back.
“A hot mess.” Sarah corrected her, hooking their elbows together whilst ushering forward the teenage interns next to them- their hands shaking with apprehension as they gripped the phones in their hands, the gadget recording each moment.
Aisha stilled slightly as her foot contacted the tarmac, the crowd already hushing with undivided interest on her mere shadow. She could feel anxious sweat begin to build up on the nape of her neck, flushing her face and glistening against her skin.
Finally, after a few minutes of inner turmoil, she allowed Sarah to guide her out within the crowd of other team’s media escorts and her fellow drivers. The grandstands erupted with chaos, the rushing of footsteps- scrambling to take the first photos of her in her debut, the unravelling of flags, the patriotic colours burning against the pristine plexi-glass barriers and multiple little girls shouting happily at her image.
Aisha forced a smile onto her face, the unexpected praise soothed her blushing ears as she waved up at the viewing boxes.
“Well, well. Nobody’s ever screamed like that for me.” A voice creeped up behind her, causing Aisha to whip around with a cautionary hand on her chest.
A cheeky grin greeted her, “Lando” Aisha breathed out, leaning to the side of his stature to acknowledge the rabid paparazzi behind of them with a tight-lipped nod.
“Hey,” He greeted her, bouncing on the balls of his feet and tapping the top of his helmet that sat squeezed between his arm and waist, “You nervous?” Lando tipped his head boyishly, his curls falling over his forehead, hazel eyes softening as he watched her.
“Not really,” Aisha lied, “do you need to pee?” She looked at him anxiously, watching as he stopped bouncing like a full bladdered toddler, and stood still. Lando chuckled under his breath and opened his mouth to answer, until he lurched forward under the weight of a heavy arm that hung from his shoulders.
“Little Lando Norris.” Daniel chuckled, rubbing his knuckles over the younger’s head, and snorted when Lando pushed his hand away stumbling out from his hold, “Already chatting up the newbie?” Daniel looks at Aisha with a smirk, “I think his pubes finally grew in.” He faux whispered, his voice gritty as he winked.
“I’m not chatting up anyone,” Lando smacked Daniel between the eyes before walking backwards, next to Aisha, “Just catching up.” He shrugged, side-eyeing her, gauging a reaction from her steely expression. Luckily, he got one, Aisha’s eyes widened slightly, her eyelashes fluttering to match her hearts faster pace as she slowly turned her head to meet his eyes.
“Catching up?” Daniel inquired, suddenly interested, “You guys know each other from before?”
“Yeah, we karted together.” Aisha crossed her arms over one another, before accepting a cold can of thumbs up from a staff member, “Still remember how he shit his pants.” She mumbled.
“I did not!”
“What the fuck.”
Both men exclaimed at the same time, Lando blushing a furious red and Daniel cackling loudly- leading to not only the attention from the other drivers that stood in a 200m vicinity but also Aisha snorting out her drink from her nose.
“I did not shit my pants.” Lando gritted out the last part, to stop prying ears of the other men approaching to become privy to his humiliation.
“You did though?” Aisha arched a brow at him, “I passed by you on the last lap, therefore winning-“ She poked her outstretched pinkie from her can into his puffed up chest, “And that made you so mad, that you shit your pants.”
“Oh god,” Daniel wheezed, taking support on his shorter teammate who had trotted up to join the conversation. Yuki scrunched up his face, tilting away from the force of the elder before looking at Aisha sympathetically,
“You excited?” He grinned slightly, showing off the gap between his front teeth.
“Definitely. How could I not be?” Aisha looked down at Yuki, shifting her weight slightly as an attempt to lower herself, “The crippling pressure? The thousands of viewers? The weight of both of my country’s on my shoulders?” Aisha blew a nonchalant breath from between her lips whilst waving her hand in front of her face, “No biggie.”
The three men stared at her, blank expressions on their face, one of them pressed their lips together, smacking them and creating an equally awkward “popping” noise for the group to bask in.
“I meant more like, the race and stuff..” Yuki mumbled, scratching the back of his head before yelping when Daniel smacked the nape of his neck, “But yeah, what you said works too, fo sho, no doubt, no doubt.” He corrected himself hastily.
“Fo sho?” A fourth voice chimed in, this time with a French lilt to his words, “Who’s got yuki talking like that?”
Aisha looked away amusedly from the smaller driver to the voice, her eyes widened at the blaring red that adorned the man in front of her.
“My period wasn’t due until after the race.” She commented, meeting the man’s intense gaze, “Are you here to ask if I’d like to continue watching?” She tilted her head innocently.
“Ah, I see.” He scrunches his nose at her, “You’ve got our baby Yuki talking like that.”
“Hey, fuck you man.” Yuki protested, throwing his arms up with a huff.
“I know you want to,” The seemingly french-man retorted back with a shameful wink,
“You wink like you’re trying not to cry.” Lando pointed out.
Aisha clapped her hands at her revelation, “That’s what it looked like!”
Lando shrugged, as though it was obvious.
“Okay I’m sorry, I’m not here to start the next French revolution or whatever-“ She mumbled, holding out a polite hand as a civil greeting.
Though, she was not met with his acceptance immediately, instead the three men surrounding her grimaced and hissed through their teeth- Daniel shook his hand out like he had just burned himself. Aisha looked around, oblivious to the reason for their reactions and jolted her hand out to the man.
“I’m from Monaco,” He snarked, accepting her hand begrudgingly, “Not France.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged in reply.
“Charles” he gritted out, squeezing Aisha’s hand tightly- a poor attempt to veil his distaste, “Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver.”
“Really?” Aisha squeezed harder, taking a step back to roll her eyes over his bright red suit, “Couldn’t tell.” She snorted.
“Right, well” Lando coughed, reaching forward to peel away both of their hands simultaneously, “This was fun. Meeting new people.” He took Aisha’s hand in his but dropped it quickly when she looked down at their conjoined fingers. Lando coughed, the tips of his ears blushing a furious scarlet, before he shifted to glance at his oh-so-interesting boots.
Luckily, the situation was saved by one of the administration workers clapping their hands and speaking robotically into a megaphone, “drivers, please make your way to your positions.”
The seasoned drivers around her began to exit their conversations and walk towards the bleachers style setup at the start line of the circuit. At least 12 black, metallic chairs sat in a row behind a small plaque, displaying bold white font that detailed the circuit name and the iconic formula one logo sprawled along the edges of the display board.
“Didn’t need this fucking helmet.” Aisha hissed to herself, jogging to one of the Porsche employees that stood at the edge of the camera shot, handing off the piece of equipment, before making her way back to the crowd.
She zipped up her suit and removed the piece of elastic from her hair, letting the noir waves fall down her shoulders as she scanned the already in place men in front of her, thankfully Pierre waved at her and ushered for her to take place next to him, standing behind the pair of Mercedes drivers who were snickering at some joke the other had just told.
Aisha huffed, clasping her hands behind her waist whilst jerking her head side to side due to odd strands of hair tickling her eyes and nose, before she could exasperatedly wipe her face with her hand, a pair of fingers had come and brushed against her nose. Aisha minutely followed the soft pads across her cheek before trailing her gaze up to the origin, Lando met her eyes, his own irises blown out as his hand lingered by her cheek- his thumb twitching across her skin before he coughed and re-took his position.
“Thank you,” She murmured beneath her breath, neutralising her face against the onslaught of obnoxious camera shutters and piercing sun rays.
“No problem,” Lando nodded slightly, his eyes flicking back to her face, tracing her features with his shy stare, “You did great in qualifying, yesterday.” He hastily complimented.
Aisha tried to fight against the blush that made its way up her neck, “thank you,” she snipped, pressing her lips together as a futile attempt at hiding her girlish smile.
Lando huffed out a laugh, turning his neck to grin at her, “anytime.”
Finally, the pictures had come to a stop, and the long-barrelled cameras were packed away and the grid were herded to a large, open roof truck. Another admin worker trailed behind the last driver into the pen-like vehicle, stepping up the stairs to hang back from the railing after locking the gate, “everyone’s here?’ she asked, giving a once over the flocked in men, and woman.
“Aisha, you’ll be first to talk to Lawrence,” She met eyes with Aisha, who was already waving to the rowdy fans who had collected at the banisters of the grandstands, “And then it’ll be whoever’s closest.”
The lady nodded once when the drivers thanked her, then she caught Aisha’s gaze again and she smiled reassuringly, “See you guys around.” She waved and dismounted from the railing with a jump.
The large platform began to move as the truck silently hummed to life, Aisha moved from her comfortable position at the back of the area-leaning against the matte, black railing towards Lawrence who smiled excitedly at her approaching figure. As she knitted through the small groups of 3 drivers littered in her path, she continued to wave at the fans who shouted and screamed at each subtle view they managed to glimpse of her.
“Aisha! Hi!” Lawrence greeted her, offering his hand for her to shake and swivelled around to collect a microphone.
“Hello, hello.” Aisha grinned back, accepting the long piece of tech from him, comically rotating it in her hands observing the porous black material that had been painted with a flaring red to create the F1 logo.
“So, you’re finally here! The big leagues, and yesterday’s qualifying must’ve been very exciting.  We’ve all been so blown away with Porsche’s car, and your performance. P5 ! Amazing. Walk us through what you’re feeling right now?”
“I mean, it’s a confidence booster of course, qualifying top 5- but I think that along with that it’s proving to myself and other little girls like me that it isn’t about who you are, but what you can do, regardless of gender or background.” Aisha nods once, leaning her elbow against the railing to crane her neck around and take in the track that lay ahead of the speedily moving vehicle.
“It’s great that you can showcase your talent and inspire young minds, but with that said- there’s obviously a pressure that comes with entering such a male-dominated sport.”
Aisha stilled slightly, her eyes wide and unblinking for a beat, “I mean, there’s always going to be extra expectation on you when you’re breaking barriers. The way I see it, this is an opportunity to pave the way for future generation, so really, its fuels my success and goes to show that gender or race, doesn’t correlate to your ability on track.”
“Well said, and while we’re on the topic of your determination, whilst being in the spotlight almost 24/7 and the battles on track, how do you maintain focus? It must be overwhelming.”
Aisha chuckled, turning to look at the other drivers, a few of them had tuned into her interview not-so-subtle whilst others were still deep in conversation, “I mean, when you’re battling against jumbo sized toddlers, and then being put under the loving spotlight of the media, I agree, it can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. But then I remind myself, why am I here? What am I here to do? And at the end of the day, it’s just me, the car, and the track, so I really don’t mind it too much.”
She shrugged at the end of her sentence, flipping her hair over her shoulder before unzipping the thick race suit. Revealing her tight, fireproofs beneath, the Indian flag sat proudly on her shoulder whilst her team logo lay sprawled across her chest along with the sponsor logos littered across the rest of her front.
“You make it seem so easy Aisha,” Lawrence laughed, oblivious to the tension that had gathered in the young woman’s shoulders and the tightness of her eyes that had increased tenfold throughout their conversation, “Last question before I let you go, to all of  your young fans gathered here today-“ he pointed up to the bleachers that came into view on the straight that the truck was approaching, where multiple younger children stood, jumping in their spots as their Porsche hats bobbled on their heads, “-what would you tell them? Especially those who are most likely facing challenges in their racing journey?”
Aisha smiled serenely, imagining herself in the seats that sat so far away from her, what her younger self would long to hear to make her racing career just a little bit easier, “To all the younger dreamers, never let anyone else tell you your limits. They may say to stop, but you need to believe that you can keep going. Chase your passions relentlessly because if you do, then the only barriers will be the ones we allow ourselves to see. Keep fighting, because one day, you’ll see that you’re right where you need to be.”
“Wow” He sighed, hand on his heart, “That inspired me.” Lawrence laughed heartily, “Finally, maybe just a few words in your native language, now from what I know you spent at least 3 years living in India? For your education?” He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her response.
Aisha nodded happily, “Yes, I did! so you want a message in Hindi? There are so many languages in my country, but sadly I’m only fluent in Hindi, despite being Gujarati myself.”
“That would be great, please do.”
“Sabse pehle, main apne sabhi fans ko bahut saara pyaar dena chahti hoon. Aap log mere liye inspiration ho, aur main hamesha aapke saath hoon. Aap sabka support mere liye bahut important hai, aur thank you kehna chahti hoon.”
[First of all, I want to give a lot of love to all my fans. You are an inspiration for me, and I am always with you. All your support is very important for me, and I would like to say thank you.]
“Amazing, thank you so much Aisha,” Lawrence gently took the microphone away from her and offered a grateful smile before looking towards Fernando who had made his way towards the pair.
“No problem,” Aisha stepped away, patting the eldest driver’s back once before turning away and making her way towards Lando, who had already been looking towards her, waiting for her to approach him, along with Oscar and Logan who were engrossed in conversation.
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The scene fades away from the three seasoned drivers and in the blackness another title appears, “RACE DAY” and following this the Porsche garage is finally revealed for the first time, much like the other teams the hard acrylic surfaces were decorated with the team colours and many engineers, technicians and workers were rushing around whilst other’s begaan to detach the hydraulic tubes from the cars in preparation for the first race of the season.
Before the first car revved up with anticipation, the halo was shown displaying the driver number and surname, “GASLY 10” and with that, the tubes were removed and the driver’s engineer pulled away, removing the iPad from Pierre’s gloved hands, allowing him to speed off towards his starting position.
The camera pans over to the second car that is yet to exit the garage, the driver within seemed to be hurriedly re-reading the car statistics, consuming that data over and over again, the scene rotates from the back of the car towards the front, where from beyond the middle column of the halo we get a glimpse of the large helmet following her heads sporadic movements, the Indian and British flag printed onto the front side of her head gear, peeped in and out of view as she handed away the tablet and she pulled on her gloves that lay waiting on the chassis in front of her.
With a confident thumbs up, she followed one of the Porsche employee’s guiding movements towards the other racers who sat in their cars, waiting for the start. Maintaining an even pace, she passed by the other cars, the exposed carbon fibre of Esteban’s Alpine in P10 and bright orange of Oscar’s McLaren in P7. She found her box waiting for her car as she pulled in and slowly removed her foot from the acceleration as she joined the grid in waiting for the formation lap.
The music faded away, to allow Aisha’s monologue to play over the still of the onboard camera, “This is it, I thought to myself, all the years of hard work and sacrifices have led up to this moment. This isn’t like F3 or F2-“ the live replay of the sleek interior of her F1 car is replaced by exhilarating moments of on track battles from her previous racing leagues, “- this is F1, where dreams are trampled on and shattered if you can’t keep up.” Her voice trembles slightly as we hear her take a deep breath in and the cars are overtaken with a new scene.
We see Aisha, in the same deep red sultry pantsuit, her side profile contrasted in the shadows as her chest rises and falls, “I remember the moment exactly, I told myself ‘Aisha, soak it in, the cheers and the feeling of other’s dreams, their expectations, cause it can make or break you.” She laughs incredulously at herself, “dramatic I know.”
“But it was electrifying, the whole thing, the thrum of the engines, the anticipation. I have never felt anything like it. But it’s everything I’ve trained for and everything I’ve wanted since I was little and racing go-karts.” Snippets of the raging, overwhelming sound of spluttering go-karts overtake the screen as one after another, we see young Aisha, drowning in an oversized sponsored uniform cut through the chequered ribbon.
“To the other drivers on the grid, it’s just the first race of the season, but for me, it’s my debut, it’s the first and only chance to prove that I’m meant to be here.” Aisha claps her hands, and the bursting flashes of her karting days cease, and we’re brought back to her, sitting in the tall stool, legs crossed over elegantly as she waves her heel back and forth, “The countdown began, and it’s lights out and away we go.”
The red lights above the Bahrain track fade away one by one, Crofty’s voice is matched with hers, and just as the sound of the engines crescendo, the scene ends.
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“Right Lando- “
The young British man makes his way into the stool, wobbling slightly as he flails his hands before rocking back to stability. He lets out a relieved breath and crosses his arms over his chest, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the golden, volt bracelet on his wrist the Luis Vuitton logo glinting in the light from his absent-minded movements.
“Hi, yes, I’m here.” Lando looked up at the interviewer, his eyes bouncing between the 3-4 different camera’s capturing him from odd angles, “Which-“he pointed at one of them, “-which one am I looking at?”
The interviewer laughed before leaning forward and tapping the lens of the middle-most camera, “This one.”
Lando breathed out, “great” before adjusting the pillowing fabric of his hoodie and stared straight into the glass barrel in front of him, “I’m Lando Norris, and I race for McLaren Formula one team.”
“We ehm we didn’t need that. It- it’s different from Drive to Survive,”
Lando cringed and rubbed the back of his head, causing the bracelet to ride up beneath the sleeve of his hoodie, “My bad- “
“Don’t worry about it, Now-“The sound of cue cards being shuffled could be heard, “Onto the first question, we’ve heard rumours about you and Aisha, especially during your karting days, care to elaborate?”
Lando sucks air through his teeth as he smirks, “Me and Aisha…” He looks down to his hands, fingers finding purchase on the angled charm of his bracelet, “We go way back, I mean, it was either me or her who were winning the races, she was,” He sighs heavily, his eyes starry as he looks back up to the camera, “She was, no, she is everything.”
“Can’t help but notice the bracelet that you have on, anything significant?”
“It’s symbolic, I guess?but nothing too big.” He shrugs it off, hiding away the jewellery from prying eyes.
The interviewer presses their lips together, humming whilst shuffling the cards once again, “Right, of course, but some fans have already started to notice that you and she are…close.”
“Close? We’ve always been close, it’s like electric with her, it’s hard not to be attached to her talent.” Lando smirks playfully, winking at the camera, “Karting with her was so intense, we pushed each other to the limit, and I will always hold her and those memories close to my heart.”
“Seems like obsession,” They laugh.
“Oh, it most definitely is, I mean, have you seen her?” Lando flourishes dramatically with his hands, as though the woman was sitting right next to him.
We are brought back to the first driver’s briefing of the season, mere days before the Bahrain Grand Prix, Aisha had just sat down next to Pierre and began to chat amicably with her new teammate, bouts of laughter erupting from the pair momentarily.
The camera pans from the bonding partners to Lando, still hiding his head between his palms in embarrassment, though from between his ringed fingers we see his emerald irises peeking through the gaps, staring thoughtfully at the enrapturing driver who was currently fiddling with the van clef, indigo bracelets that shimmered around her wrist.
Oscar, who was also curiously watching the woman jogged Lando, snapping the man out of his trance, “Mate- you’re drooling,” He poked his teammate’s cheek.
Lando slapped away the finger that prodded his face, “I am not.”
“Whatever you say,” Oscar hummed, turning his attention back to the administrator who was flipping through a few data filled papers, bringing their mouth closer to the bendable microphone. Oscar leaned into Lando, bumping their shoulders together, “Just be careful.”
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Aisha breathed out a sigh, capping the black, matte Bulgari pen, slipping it into the awkwardly small purse that hung from her shoulder. She slammed the driver’s door of her car, having just finished a load of signing and smiling with fans, her main objective was to get through the security scanners peacefully.
“Hey stranger,” A voice came up behind her, tapping her arm.
“Lando,” Aisha tried to contain the quiver in her voice, “I thought you already got in.” She adjusted the neckline of her top, the tight sleeves hugged her shoulders and left her skin exposed to the warm sun.
“I did, I just needed something from my car and then I saw you,” He grinned at her, tapping his key card against the scanner, walking seamlessly through the rotating barrier, “You look like you’re about to walk a runway.”
Aisha laughed, tucking a straightened lock of hair behind her ear, “Thanks, you look…” Aisha assessed his outfit, a pair of light blue baggy, Levi’s and one of his own merch hoodies, “normal.” She cringed at her unnecessary honesty.
Yet, Lando just laughed and nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah- compared to you.”
Aisha continued to walk through the paddock, the British driver at her side whilst she waved to those personnel that passed by. She looked down at her own clothes, a neat, navy, off-the shoulder top that hugged her chest in all the right places was tucked into a grey mini-skirt, compliments of one of the many brand ambassadors of her team, the item was paired with a thin brown, gold buckled belt along with knee-high go-go boots.
“You could say that” She conceded, adjusting the golden Porsche chain that clung to her neck, “I was wondering…”
“Yeah?” Lando pocketed his hands.
“I you wanted to get dinner. For old times’ sake?” Aisha leaned forward on one foot, tilting her head hopefully before coming to a stop and waiting for his response.
Lando beamed widely, his eyes sparkling, “Definitely, I would be an absolute idiot to turn you down.”
Aisha blushed and looked down at the bracelets on her wrist, multiple layered golden chains which reflected light against her face in the most euphoric way, “Great, I’ll ju-“
“AISHA, oh my god it’s really her, AISHA!”
A shrill, young voice erupted from behind the pair, and a group of 3-4 young girls came running up to the pair. Aisha laughed to herself, plucking out the pen once more.
“Hello,” Aisha greeted the pre-teens who surrounded her, two of them dressed in a signature papaya orange whilst the other two sported metallic, silver Porsche merch, “You guys look so good!”
She accepted the hats and odd poster that the girls shyly handed her, “We’re so excited to see you race! You’re the only one who looks like us.” One of them spoke, her copper toned, youthful cheeks bobbed up with her smile as her long, black ponytail weaved with her excited movements.
“That’s so sweet, I think I might just win the race for you.” Aisha opened her arm for the girl to step into as they took a photo.
“Ehm, Lando, could we get an autograph as well,” Another one asked, already unfurling a second poster along with presenting the enraptured male with a sharpie.
“Absolutely! How could I resist?” Lando accepted the pen and began to sign the poster along with some newly presented items that the other two girls had produced.
“Thank you, guys, so much!” Aisha waved off the girls and turned back to Lando, already handing over her phone for him to enter in his number.
The young fans were squealing on their way back to their parents, who were just as excited for their young daughter’s interaction, “Did you guys see the bracelet?”
“What bracelet?” Another one asked, carefully rolling up her poster and handing it to her father, who tucked it under his arm and offered his hand for her to take.
“Lando’s, the one he wore for the whole of last season…” She adjusted her cap, looking confusedly at her three friends.
“Oh…I didn’t.”
“Neither did I.”
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The screen faded away from Lando, sitting with his teammate whilst gawking at Aisha and we’re brought back to the present, the on-board camera of the Porsche is aimed at the lights that have just gone dark and all at once, a symphony of rubber against concrete fills the scene.
Aisha navigated turn one with ease, emerging from the throng of cars still in P5, her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she focussed every ounce within her body on the track ahead. The bright spotlights above her cast a blinding hue over the grandstands, illuminating the eager fans from around the world, their flags waved in their air as they watched with anticipation when she approached Lewis from behind, pressuring the world champion ahead as they weaved into the next turn.
Aisha aimed for the apex, seeing the slightest gap for her to slip past, as she pointed the head of her car towards the opening, she held her breath and pressed on the throttle. Aisha lurched backwards as she could feel the crackles of her under-board hit the track with each increase in speed she made, yet she managed to dodge the Mercedes car and fly down the straight, maintaining her tyres as best as she could.
The radio thrummed to life in her ear as her race engineer, James, began to speak, “Great work with Lewis, already around 1.15 behind you. Take care of your tyres for now and defend.”
Aisha breathed heavily as she continued to meet the corners and walls with barely an inch to save herself as a highly effective attempt to prevent more overtakes, “Got it.”
She continued her pace throughout the laps, the continuous build up over 20 rounds had inched her closer and closer to Carlos who was struggling in P3, his braking getting worse and worse with each sharp turn.
“James- how much closer do I need to overtake?” Aisha gritted out, flitting her eyes to the large, white metallic DRS sign that entered her limited field of vision.
“Only a bit more Aisha, it’s time to push.”
Aisha stepped harshly onto the gas, her engine thrumming all around her as she charged closer to the bright red Ferrari ahead. She could see the rubber of the tyres in front burn and smoke with every swerve. The roar of her engine filled her ears, drowning out the noise of her own heartbeat as she braced herself for the challenge, “Here we go,” she murmured, voice firm and steely with determination.
She surged her car forward, pushing her machine to the limit as she matched Carlos’ pace with precision and determination, the desert heat bore down in mirage-like waves as the two drivers danced on the razor’s edge of competition. One by one measly lap, the distance shortened until they were wheel to wheel, and all Aisha could do was grit her teeth until she could taste the tangy calcium as she continued the precipice of a wipe-out, the promise of a podium too good to lose.
Aisha’s heart pounded with exhilaration as they hurtled down the straight once again, soon enough the pair were met with the sharpest corner yet, Aisha pushed further and Carlos relented, edging away meekly to allow her to slip by. The crowd’s cheers washed over her, a wave of euphoria crashing over her senses as her heart swelled with triumph.
“WOO! P3!”
“Amazing work Aisha, halfway there. Get some distance between you two.”
“I can take on Checo,” Aisha promised, her aggressive spirit burning deeply within her core as her eyes narrowed into the back of one of the red bulls.
“Go for it, but be careful, your tyres aren’t that good.” James warned her, his voice crisp with caution.
“I got this.”
Aisha revved up once her power had flashed a promising green on the screen in front of her, “It’s time to pounce.” She promised herself whilst flicking the DRS button with her thumb, letting the flap behind her quiver open, the force launched her forward like never before as the lap count leached into the 40’s, Checo hadn’t yet pitted, neither had she, and suddenly, it was a battle of the wills.
She tried all that she could, nudging her nose into the smallest of gaps and backing out when he had angled himself predatorially, grazing her front wing enough for her heart to jump into her throat, “What the fuck is he doing? Fucking cocksucker, he wants to kill me or what?” Aisha had to remind herself to lower her voice.
“It’s within regulation, keep pushing you’re approaching DRS again.” James assured her.
The car trembled beneath her, like a jaguar waiting to pounce again after one failure, she pressed again. This time she nipped Checo’s wheel, causing for him to quickly move out of the way, narrowly missing a spin-off and allowing Aisha to speed into P2.
“FUCK YES! HOLY SHI-“
Aisha’s celebration was cut short when a dangerous thrum approached her rapidly, she attempted with all her might to duck and weave into and out of his path, but Checo was relentless, continuously rubbing against her wheels and forcing her to utilise her power.
“Fuck, fuck what the actual shit?” Aisha screeched as she continued to sloppily defend, her anger bubbling up like hot water.
The red bull growled and pounced in front of her, clipping enough of her front wheel to send her spinning. Aisha shouted with malice, throwing up her hands as her wheels began to rotate rapidly, “BASTARD!”
Her vision blurred as the world around her continued to haphazardly shift, the fans above stilled with trepidation as they watched her strangle her wheel with both hands and wrangle the car back into position.
“Okay, so that’s P5- P5, Piastri, Sainz, Perez and Verstappen in front of you,”
“Copy.” Aisha grumbled darkly, manoeuvring the vehicle so that she could continue to viciously speed down the final lap, murderously defending her position as her stomach finally settled and head stopped pounding with adrenaline.
The race ended with Crofty heartily congratulating her over the commentary,
“And Verstappen has won the Bahrain grand prix! with Checo in P2 and Sainz in the Ferrari in P3. Now the fans have spoken, and new-comer Aisha Patel has been voted driver of the day, rightfully so, securing a solid P5 finish after a challenging battle on the track. it's fantastic to see her scoring valuable points in her debut race. And let's not forget the incredible debut of the Porsche F1 Team! It's clear that they're a force to be reckoned with in the championship.”
A view of Max passing through the finish line is shown, sparks flew behind his car as he speeds through and turned into the parc ferme. Aisha is also shown, her eyes steely from within her helmet and as she stops her car she clambers out of the cockpit and rips of her headgear, a scowl evident on her usually cool face.
She pushes open the gate to the media pen, narrowly avoiding Max, who spared her a dark glance from over his shoulder before turning back to the interviewer.
“Yeah, people make stupid decisions sometimes,” She heard him answer the unintelligible question. Aisha could already feel the anger burn her throat as she whipped her head around and met Max’s eyes, he stared back, an inferno raging within his blue iris’. She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by her Media manager, pulling her away gently, Aisha followed tearing her eyes away from the Dutchman. Yet, she could still feel his heated gaze on her.
Aisha scoffed passing by Carlos and Checo, who were conversing in fast Spanish, and headed towards the common media area, where eager and ravenous reporters began to clamber on top of one another as they caught sight of her sweaty face and stringy hair.
“Aisha! Aisha!”  They called, loud voices breaking through the microphone and blowing through the audio.
Aisha huffed and went towards the tell-tale white microphone, the sky sports logo sprawled all over the foam cover,
“Hi Aisha, congratulations on the P5 today,” Mark started, holding the microphone out for the visibly annoyed driver.
“Thank you,” She snipped, but blinked a few times before forcing herself to continue, “Y’know could’ve been a P2 finish for Porsche today, but I’m happy with both Pierre and I’s finish, at least we scored some valuable points.” Aisha robotically recounted her PR training.
“Definitely a tough break for you out there,” He nodded solemnly, “Care to walk us through what happened with Checo on lap 43?”
Aisha sucked in a breath, looking behind her where her PR person stood, arms crossed over her Porsche shirt as she shrugged, “Yeah, of course, it’s disappointing end to my race, P2 would probably be a dream, but Checo made a-“ Aisha bit her tongue momentarily, looking into the few dozen camera’s pointed at her, until she noticed Checo’s reflection walking behind her, heading to the cool-down room, “-a dickhead move absolutely dangerous, there was contact because he couldn’t use his eyes, and that caused me to spin out. It’s racing, I know, but you don’t see race winners or legends making moves like that.” Aisha hissed.
Mark stared at her, mouth agape before he recollected himself and forced a flabbergasted laugh, “Well, that’s one way to put it.” The other surrounding reporters were close to drooling at the mouth, their own mics pushed further through the gaps as they imagined the debaucherous headlines they could create from her outburst.
“How were you feeling during that moment?”
“Truthfully?” She tilted her head, “Pissed, but you probably didn’t you marky-moo, my radio probably told you that. But after I managed to regain my original position, I was more determined to just finish the race with a solid end.”
He laughed at that but stilled when Checo emerged once again from the cool-off room, “Checo!” Mark called, oblivious to the thunderous haze that overtook Aisha. She checked behind her shoulder, and her upper lip curled with malice,
“I’ll let Checo say his bit- “She murmured, “Excuse me.” And left the pen, heading towards the Porsche garage whilst avoiding eye-contact with Lucy, her fuming PR manager.
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“Hey! Checo!” Aisha called out, throwing down her headphones, leaving her race engineer in concerned confusion as she approached the red bull driver, amid his team, oblivious to the storm about to hit him.
“Oh, hey Aisha-“
“Do not, hey, me.” She snarled, “What the fuck was that on track? Were you trying to kill me back there? You could’ve overtaken me in so many other ways.” Aisha approached him, prompting Checo to take a simultaneous step back, hands raised.
“It’s racing Aisha, I had to make a split-second decision.”
“We all make decisions, Perez,” She snarled, hands balling up into fists, “You don’t see Charles or Carlos or anyone with half a brain doing what you did? You messed up my race!” Aisha’s voice begins to raise, drawing attention of the red bull personnel, since the pair had manged to slowly move up to the entrance of the garage, and prompting a few camera men, who were following around Lando and Oscar to pan over to her.
Aisha groans, smacking her palm against her head a few times as a display of aggression before turning back to a very sweaty, nervous driver, “Never mind my race- you had fucking so many other options, why? Why did you decide to clip my wheel? Is it because being overtaken by a woman was so embarrassing, for red bull’s number two, you couldn’t handle it?” Aisha mocks him, before starting to approach his frozen form, a violent fire burning in her eyes and spreading to her limbs, igniting them with her fury.
Just as there was merely a centimetre between the two, a pair of strong arms hooked themselves around her elbows, holding her hand away from Checo, who had started shouting about his “personal safety”.
“Are you fucking stupid?” A gruff voice whispers into her ear.
Aisha kicks out, a futile attempt to free herself, “Let me go,” She whips her head around, her hair flying,
“Can you stop? I will literally knock you out.” The voice continues, grunting when her foot narrowly misses his groin.
“Fine-“ She huffs, going limp as she shoots daggers into Checo’s retreating back being escorted by a flurry of blue clad workers, “Fine, let me go,” She mumbles.
The man drops her onto the floor instantly, allowing her to stumble over her feet. Aisha finds her footing once more and spins around to meet his eyes, “Max?”
Max stares down at her, his eyes squinted with annoyance, “Who else? You’re in front of the red bull garage.” He rolls his eyes and steps a large stride away from her.
Aisha blinks once. Twice. Before scoffing and crossing her arms, “Yeah. Thanks.” She snarks before walking away from him, leaving the dutchman standing, fuming in his spot. She manages to skip over the McLaren crowd but had attracted almost half a dozen cameras on her, the large intimidating lens’ were pushed into her face haphazardly, narrowly missing her face a few times.
Aisha had to hold herself back from stealing the cameras from their holders and smashing them onto the ground. She could feel a self-depreciating throb begin to build in her head, the memory of all the idyllic children watching her, and those who had felt represented by her made tears prick at her eyes. In that moment, with too many lens’ focussing on her quivering lip, she hoped that they wouldn’t catch the salty sadness that threatened to stream down her face
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The post-race interview scene fades away, and a familiar red bull jersey is announced into the scene, the dark blue merging pleasantly with the dark grey background. We’re introduced to Checo’s frame, a placid smile on his face.
“Hi checo,” The interviewer greets the driver, who nods in acknowledgement, “Well, Bahrain was an intense time for you, especially the on track accident with Aisha, would you care to talk us through the whole thing?”
Checo clears his throat briefly, “Yeah, uhm, it was a tight battle with her, and she was holding her ground y’know, but I saw an opportunity to make a move and I took it.” He shrugged once, reverting his gaze away from the camera, “And, as an unfortunate by product, she ended up spinning out, but it’s racing, these things happen.”
“I think everyone knows that she seemed quite upset about the incident, did you have a chance to speak with her afterwards?”
“uhm, people say things when they’re angry, and Aisha was frustrated but I’m here to win races, that’s what I’ve been hired to do. Once again, it was a choice that I had to make, and it’s hard to consider everyone’s emotions while I do it.”
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“Max, we recently interviewed Checo, and he had some…words to say about the situation in Bahrain, specifically with Aisha after the race. Now, we saw that you had intervened just in time, what was going on during that moment?”
Max shifted in his chair, slipping down slightly, and crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I could see that the situation was escalating, with Aisha getting increasingly angry, it would’ve ended pretty badly.”
“You sound so sure about that.”
“Trust me, I know anger when I see it, and I know that races can get heated especially when avoidable occurrences aren’t avoided, but I also think that emotional regulation is crucial to compete.” He distractedly runs a thumb over his bottom lip.
“Does this change your initial views on Aisha entering the sport? Since you were pretty, pessimistic.” The interviewer cringes just as the words escape their mouth.
“I wouldn’t say I was pessimistic,” He quickly rejects, “But I think she had something to prove, just like any of us, she isn’t exempt from it. And she, raced like any of us would’ve in the moment, so do I suddenly think of her as a saint? No, but do I think that she’s building up to something? Maybe.”
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“Aisha!” A voice calls from behind her, Aisha smiles at the fans who had offered her a notebook to sign, she watched them walk away before responding,
“Yeah?” She tucks away her pen into the silver, Porsche gym bag that hung from her shoulder.
Lando jogs up to her, tapping his card against the scanner before pushing through the gate and reaching her side, “Great race, you handled it...well…” He trailed off, unsure of how to spin off his compliment.
Aisha laughs at that, throwing her head back, ”It’s okay Lando, you don’t have to say anything” She tugs at the sleaves of her tight black jacket, the hugo boss label stretched over her chest as she pulled at the fabric, “I- I can get pretty mad,” Aisha shrugs, kicking an imaginary pebble with her shoe, rustling her oversized tracksuit bottoms, the three parallel lines on both her legs fluttered with the airy clothing.
“Yeah, that probably didn’t go down to well on camera,” He itches the back of his head, “I actually came to ask if you’re staying at the same hotel as the rest of us, Oscar took my car and I’m stranded.”
“Lando…” She sighs, adjusting the strap of her bag, “If you wanted to ride in my Porsche, you could’ve just said so.” Aisha gestured to her silvery 918 Spyder, the high-end sports car shimmered beneath the spotlights of the private car park.
Lando hissed through his teeth and grinned, “You caught me.” He held his hands up, “It’s the only way I can be photographed in the car without causing an uproar.”
Aisha tilted her head at him, “Oh, so nothing else is convincing you?”
“Hmmm, that, and maybe the very beautiful and scary woman who drives it?” Lando offered, holding out his hand for her to take.
She looked down at his open palm before searching the area around them, the rest of the grid had departed long before, leaving just her car and another in the parking. Aisha squinted her eyes at the remaining automobile, a Honda NSX, the only owner being none other than a certain grumpy blonde, who was more focussed on his back seat than on the couple who still stood in the middle of the concrete.
Accepting his hand, she revelled in the feeling of her fingers intertwined with his, soft skin against coarse knuckles, a warm aura enveloped her being as she guided them towards her car, pulling out the flat fob to click open the expensive machine.
Yet, as she watched Lando retreat into the passenger’s seat with an amazed, “oh damn.” and went to unlock the trunk to slip her duffel bag into, she felt an icy gaze glued to her back.
Aisha turned once behind her to where Max was sitting in his driver’s seat, eyes glued at first on Lando, an unrecognisable expression painted on his face before he slowly slid it up to her face, and his once oddly neutral gaze turned into an annoyed squint.
With that, the dutchman tore his eyes away from a now, slightly agitated Aisha, towards the open road and pulled out of the car park, speeding away to what she assumed would be the hotel.
“Hey,” Lando leaned over the dash, reaching for her hand that rested on the headrest of her seat, the other braced on her car door as she watched the retreating Honda, “You okay?”
Aisha jumped out of her disturbed haze, and back to where Lando was now rubbing his fingers over hers that had tensed enough to turn her milky brown skin into a pale white, “Yeah- I’m fine, just checking for reporters.”
“I’m that embarrassing?” He teased, watching her intently as she fastened her seatbelt and smiled at the sound of the purring super engine.
Aisha snorts, “No- not at all, just making sure that McLaren’s golden boy isn’t photographed inside a Porsche- with the grid’s certified crazy woman.” She pressed on the gas.
“Yeah, but…what if I want that?”
“What?” Aisha’s eyebrows knitted together; eyes still glued to the unfamiliar roads ahead as the GPS stopped squawking at her for a brief moment.
“I don’t care if you’re the crazy woman…You’re just, you. I don’t care about the rest.” Lando smiled lazily, his eyes studying her quickly flustered face.
“You’re a horrible flirt Norris.” She grumbled.
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ynbabe · 15 hours
Note
Hii, could you do a part two of "bite me"? I love reading these types of stories <33
Bloody red ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU
| Part 1 | Heyyy y'all- I'M BACK!!! Okay so reader is at the end for this but I promise y'all will love this- it's Charles, how could one not? Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you wanna see next! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
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Charles could almost throw up from the sight in front of him, he was exaggerating of course but it was close.
A large spread of food- human food. The drivers had all gone out to celebrate, he didn't know what, maybe it was a pity meal after the absolute mess in Australia. He hoped so, looking at how George and Logan looked- faces pale, eyes dark, looking like they could throw up.
Across from him Fernando hadn't touched the food and was sipping on his suspiciously red win, Lance sat to his right and Checo to his left. He spoke animatedly to the Red Bull driver in fast and whispered Spanish and Lance gossiped, loud (for the vampire) in French to Esteban, who seemed equally engrossed in what the Canadian was saying.
Charles swallowed thickly, it wasn't as if he couldn't eat human food it was just that it tasted bland and quite frankly gross to him and Fernando, whom he still suspected to be a vampire. How could he not? That man was surprisingly fit for a man of 40... not that 40 was old.
He fiddled with the spaghetti on his plate but finally gave in an shoved it in his mouth, swallowing like it pained him to do so.
When he looked back up, he saw Fernando staring at him, with a look on his face that Charles couldn't for the life of him figure out. So he decided to torture that old man, why not?
"The food's nice isn't it Nando?" He asked, pulling the table's attention to the two, he smirked as he saw the older man's eyes widen for a second before he regained composure and smiled- no smirked back.
"Yes, yes, it is," he replied, his accent thick, "You don't seem to have eaten much though, not to your taste?" he stressed the last word in an insinuating manner, the meaning lost on all others who were listening in, but he knew, he knew that he knew that he knew- okay this was getting confusing.
"Oh no, I like it, your plate has been empty though?" This was fun, Fernando shook his head and returned to his wine, everyone on the table seemed to have moved on, other than a few prying eyes, unknown to the two drivers.
As the night went on the herd began to thin, as most of the younger drivers- Max, Lando, Oscar (on Lando's insistence, which consisted of him dragging the poor boy out with him,) Zhou, Pierre, Alex, Carlos, Yuki and of course, Daniel had decided to go clubbing. Nico, Kevin, Checo, Valtteri and Esteban had returned to their hotels, tired of the weekend and its festivities.
Left at the table were Fernando and Lance, who seemed to be having a hushed conversation, too soft even for his ears, George and Logan, who seemed to be slightly panicked about something and Lewis who was paying the bill, but just as he was done, he nodded at Fernando in some sort of silent agreement and headed out, patting the drivers in his way, including Charles, on the back and gracing the others with a small wave.
The Aston-Martin driver's conversation finally ends, the younger man laughing at something Nando said as he gets up from the chair and walks away.
Then suddenly, all Fernando's attention is on Charles, unwavering, eyes like a hunter on his prey, "You know," he says nonchalantly, leaning back, "and you know that I know," his eyes still piercing into his own, "So what are we going to do about it?"
Charles knows there's no real danger, after all, he couldn't hurt him without having his secret out, right? Regardless he's terrified, but he's also a gutsy, annoying little shit, so he responds in kind.
"Nothing," and bares his fangs, sipping his own cup of wine, it actually was just wine. He felt pride as Fernando's face morphed into shock.
"This... this I did not expect," he surrendered, hands in the air, "but, I am not unhappy," he smiled, baring his fangs back the monegasque.
Somewhere further along the long table, they were seated at, something clattered, making the two vampires turn their necks at breakneck speeds, well for humans at least.
"What... the fuck!" The American cursed, the tall Brit ext to him equally shocked, his jaw locked shut.
Oh god, how could they forget about them? They were truly screwed now.
"George, think about this-" he began but he was cut off by him opening his pursed mouth which let a small stream of blood dribble out.
Before he had a chance to think the American opened his mouth, teeth- no fangs, stained red. They lifted the small metal decanter they had been drinking from throughout the dinner, he'd just assumed it was alcohol.
"Okay then, " Nando sighed and chugged from his glass of what he now knew was blood. He motioned for the two boys to come closer and they looked around before speeding to sit next to the older man, George where Lance was once seated and Logan where Esteban was.
All he could do was stare, "W-who? What?" slipped out his mouth before he could stop it.
"Well, I was turned very long ago," Fernando confessed.
"How long?" He asked,
"Let's just say Formula was as interesting in the '50s," he smiled, making the three younger men exclaim in various degrees of disbelief.
"That's- impossible, what?" Logan called out, clearly shocked.
"You're a vampire and that's what you think is impossible?" George sassed.
"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" Logan snarked back, using an unused baguette to smack the taller blonde across the head making him hiss in reply.
"Well, I was going to ask who turned you but I guess that's answered," Fernando said, looking at the younger boys.
"Wait, who turned you, George?" Charles asked.
"Lewis, he didn't mean to... it just kind of happened," the boy shrugged.
"And you, Predestinado?" Nando asked, ever theatrical but Charles was a little ashamed now.
"I- uh, I don't know actually," He replied making the other three look at him in concern.
"It happened at a club and I've been feeding off my girlfriend, ever since..." he let out and watched as Logan and George moved closer to each other and Nando sighed.
"Y/n, yes? She's a good kid, Charli, try not to hurt her, this life... it is not an easy one, you know," he warned but the look in his eyes told Charles he was speaking from experience.
----------------------------------------------------
The door opened just as you had dozed off, tired of waiting for Charles.
"Y/n, belle, are you awake, Cheri?" he whispered as he walked into the expensive hotel room.
You startled awake, immediately smiling at your boyfriend. He laid next to you and you moved to let yourself burrow into his arms, head on his chest. At first the lack of a heart beat scared you , but now it was almost comforting, knowing the the sounds you heard were your blood running through his veins.
"Bebe, you will not belive who else is a Vampire," he started off, making you awaken more properly than before.
"There's more of you?" you questioned in shock, leading to perhaps the most important gossip session of your life.
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formula1simp · 2 days
Note
Can please write something with Charles after his p2 in Australia???
Wasn’t he just so good 😭 fastest lap to the our sweet little Ferrari boy 🏁 hope this is what you expected !
Warning: translated French, smut,
Cheers erupted as you watch Carlos and Charles get their 1 2 since 2022. Your hands went up as you cheered with Arthur and Lorenzo. You and Arthur were quick to start grabbing yore things to make it to the fence before anyone else. You watched as Charles get its of his car going to Carlos. You smiled as you watched him taking pictures on your camera. The boys come over and hugged them team taking a quick selfie. He catch your eyes and smiled widely. His green eyes sparking as you watched him come over giving his brother a hug. You smiled taking pictures of them.
His arms wrapped around your shoulders as you hugged his torso. “I’m so proud of you.” You smiled as you squeezed him. He chuckled and looked down at you giving you a sweet kiss. You smiled as you kissed him breaking it. “Thank you mon amour.” He smiles as he pecks your lips. “Go on.” You smiled talking his side. You congratulated Carlos since his dad stood on your other side. “Spray him good.” You laughed giving him a high five. He chuckled and nodded at you. “Will do.” He said.
You watched the boys take the podium. You smiled taking pictures of them. You watched them grab their champagne bottles and start to shake them. You and Arthur laughed as Carlos shook his up and sprayed Charles in the face. Carlos laughed saying something to him probably that you said to spray him. Even with all the people around you his eyes find yours. A playful smirk as his eyes burn into you. “tu as des problèmes.” (You’re in trouble) He mouths to you. You laughed a bit sending him a kiss.
You waited for Charles around the garage with Arthur. He was currently in his debrief. You smiled as you thanked a couple people telling you to say congratulations to Charles. “I’ve never seen my brother this happy you know.” Arthur says as you guys sit down. You smiled a bit as you looked at Arthur. “Well he should be happy he did amazing today.” You beam being proud. “No I mean in general. You push him everyday to be better he really loves you.” He says to you. “If anything your brother is making me a better person.” You smiled at him. “Mmmm no Arthur is right for once.” Charles sighs happily as he wraps his arms around you from behind. His face in between your neck and shoulder as he gives you a small kiss. Your arms go on top of his and you look back at him. He lifts his head to meet your face with a kiss. Your hand rubbing his stubble. “So sweet it makes me sick.” Arthur gags playfully. You laugh as you pull away and Charles hits his cap to put it more down.
“Come on. Let’s go celebrate with the team.” He smiles. He gets ready to leave he was just changing. Arthur left to get changed at his hotel. Charles grabbed your hand as you guys heading out. You couldn’t help but pull him towards fans screaming his name. You smiled and offered to take all the pictures for them. Eventually getting away you guys made it to the hotel. Thank god your hair and makeup was done you changed into a simple short black dress and heels. The necklace with Charles number around your neck. You watched him change from the bathroom doorway. “I’m so proud of you mon beau garçon.” (My pretty boy) You smiled. Your favorite nickname for him. Charles always got weak at the knees when you would use it. You slipped between the bathroom counter and Charles. Your arms around his neck his slip to your waist. His green eyes searching your face seeing your little smirk. “Mon amour. No.” He chuckles as you kiss his neck. “You deserve it.” You giggled as kept going. “My brother is going to be waiting.” He mumbles as he moves to give you better access. “He can wait.” You said as you fumbled with his pants. He kicked them off to the side and then Charles grabbed you wrapping your legs in his waist taking you to the bed. He laid on top of you kissing your hands everywhere. “Mmm.” You mumbled shaking your head into the kiss. “I’m taking care of you joli garçon.” (Pretty boy) you said as you got on top. Charles suppressed his groans as you kissed all the way down to his waistband. Licking and nibbling his sweet spots accidentally leaving a mark on his vline. “Mon amour. Please” Charles moans as he places his hand in your hair. You smile as you take off his briefs and settle to not tease him much more. “Oh Charles. You did so good today.” You mumble peppering kisses down his twitching manhood. He props himself on his free elbow to watch you. You lick his tip already red and throbbing. You take him in and slowly suck and bob your head. A string of French curse words fall out of his mouth as his head falls back. You giggle a bit as you move faster grabbing his thighs a bit. His phone ringing meaning you didn’t have much time as you bib your head. Charles groans your name out and forces to lift his head through lidded eyes he watches you. He tugs on your hair a bit while moaning your name. His sign to say he was about to cum and move. You don’t as you keep going. He groans gripping your hair as he releases. “Mon amour. You take care of me so well.” He mumbles biting his lip watching you swallow and lick your lips. You smile as he kisses you sweetly. A bang on the door quickly gets you two get his briefs and pants. You brush your teeth and Charles opens the door to Arthur. You come out and grab your bag smiling at Arthur. He sees your hair messed up noticing you put gum in your mouth. Charles face red and flushed. “You two are disgusting.” He says walking in front of you. You laugh as Charles smacks his head and closes the door. “Sorry. He deserves it.” You say. “Can’t wait til I win p1.” He smiled as he took your hand leading you to the elevator. “moi aussi, joli garçon” (me too pretty boy) you whisper in his ear making them red at the tips. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the season.
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lorarri · 11 months
Text
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❨ main f1 masterlist | football masterlist ❩
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂
𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 → max verstappen x fem! reporter! reader x charles leclerc
a interview filled with chemistry has people picking sides team charles or team max when little did they know there was no need for them to begin with
𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 → charles leclerc x fem! miss universe! reader
invited to the final grand prix of the year by mercedes leaves you with a lot more than she bargains for
𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 → charles leclerc x fem! heiress! reader
after being failed time and time again charles well hidden gf finally had enough and decided to take matters into her own hands
𝐆𝐘𝐌 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 → charles leclerc x fem! gf! reader
a normal early morning gym session turns into your boyfriend pulling up in his ferrari to make a point to a gym rat that is flirting with you
𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 → charles leclerc x fem! actress! reader
a year after getting divorced Y/N's self care era is in full swing and with that also comes a very unique way of announcing her new relationship
𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 → charles leclerc x male! indie! singer! reader
people hate that their fav indie guy is dating a certain ferrari driver but hating on him will not be tolerated by said singer
𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑 → charles leclerc x fem! verstappen! twin! head engineer! reader
head engineer and a verstappen clearly is a winning combination as max's younger win attracts potential suitors but is shut down before his special day what a present
𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 → charles leclerc x male! actor! reader
their two worlds were never meant to meet but somehow they did and now they are showing it to the public
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 → charles leclerc x fem! santos! redbull! f1 driver! reader
the youngest sibling of neymar jr forges her path in formula one and hide a big secret from her over protective brother and the world
𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐌 → charles leclerc x fem! kpop idol! blackpink! reader
charles attends coachella for the first time and gets caught slipping for a certain k-pop idol who happens to be headlining
𝐑𝐄𝐃 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 → charles leclerc x fem! chelsea! footballer! reader
after the champions league final, chelsea's star player Y/N L/N reveals her relashiopship with ferrari's golden boy charles leclerc | part 2
= 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄 → charles leclerc x fem! chelsea! footballer! reader
Y/N L/N's and charles leclerc's relationship saw all f1 drivers become part time footballers and Y/N marries on too | part 1
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐄! → charles leclerc x fem! gf! streamer! reader
it's off season and charles fellow drivers thought it would be a good idea to challenge his streamer girlfriend to see who is better at f1 2023
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 → charles leclerc x fem! korean! engineer! street racer! reader
two unlikey world meet and when the intent finds out everyone is completely shocked and wonder how this came to be | part 2 | part 3
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 → charles leclerc x fem! korean! engineer! street racer! reader
trouble in paradise arrests and accidents oh my and the internet mourn there favourite couples sudden break up | part 1 | part 3
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 → charles leclerc x fem! korean! engineer! street racer! reader
after breaking up with each other it’s clear they are missing the other (even if one of them would never admit it) so Y/N’s friend decide to play cupid | part 1 | part 2
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 → charles leclerc x fem! ex gf! reader
in which a series of texts shows the time line of a 5 year long relationship and how somewhere along the line it all went wrong
𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 → charles leclerc x fem! nicks! singer! reader
everyone's fav couple has broken up but not to fear nothing brings people back together more than vegas
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leclerc-hs · 2 days
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wait for your love - cl16
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pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love—far from it…right?
“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.
“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.
His eyes remained transfixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your radiant smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”
“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.
“You guys are seriously too cute!” 
The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.
It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.
“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you. 
-
You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed barricaded behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.
“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like a thunderclap, commanding your attention and halting any further discourse with an authority that brooked no argument.
With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His gaze, cold and piercing, met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.
“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a meticulously manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to yield under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”
Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a stark contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.
He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times—or perhaps someone else had.
He watched as your eyes traced along his disheveled hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.
Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.
“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.
He always resented how you seemed impervious to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.
-
“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?
You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.
The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.
You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.
“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.
You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck in a sensuous cascade.
Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the enticing curve of your breasts.
You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like a tantalizing invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in the anticipation, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.
“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips. 
His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of sensation in its wake. 
“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.
The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.
“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.
Never, is what he wanted to say.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.
Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.
End of discussion.
-
“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.
“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel. 
“What’s wrong with taking his number?”
There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.
Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men; in fact, men often vied for your attention. Rather, it was your own inclination against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles concluded in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?
“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed!  He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with simply exchanging numbers.
You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to dance through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.
“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”
Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, visceral discomfort.
Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.
-
“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand. 
His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face. 
Who were you texting?
“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.
“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy emanating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.
A date? He felt sick.
Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.
“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.
“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”
It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.
The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.
“Je dois y aller.” I must go.
Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.
Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.
“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.
-
You went on a relentless series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.
One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?
His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone served as Charles’ triggering a tumult of emotions within him.
“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.
Your eyes widened at his tone and question.
“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.
His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business! 
He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.
“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.
“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the sinewy muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his imposing presence.
You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.
“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.
“Oui.”
You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.
-
You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?
“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any garment you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.
“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words elicited a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.
You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.
“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily arrested Charles’s attention. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.
“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.
“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained ajar before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.
Tonight, he remained steadfastly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.
“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard—a genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.
-
“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, reverberating off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his in symphony. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your baking rendezvous added a touch of whimsy to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.
You stepped closer towards him, a playful pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.
You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.
His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again. 
“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.
“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.
He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.
It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.
His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips and melded with his own. He groaned in response, his arms encircling your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.
“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment. 
Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.
His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.
“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.
Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him. 
The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.
You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?
As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.
-
You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss. 
“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.
You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.
You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.
“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.
“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.
He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.
“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the shifting dynamics between you two.
He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.
The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.
“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.”  A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. 
You didn’t deny it.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 hours
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The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16
Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k
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To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.
“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.
“Nothing happened, dad.”
“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”
It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.
“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”
You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 
“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”
You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”
“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”
“Isä! No!”
Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”
The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 
“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
“Kimi.”
“Fuck.” 
“Yeah.”
You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 
“The police station.”
“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”
Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”
“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.
“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”
“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”
“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”
His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”
The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 
“That wasn’t a denial.”
You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”
“But we’re on the top floor.”
You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.
“You’re still not denying it.”
“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.
“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”
You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”
“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 
“You hate him, why would you follow him?”
“It doesn’t matter why.”
“It does to me.” 
Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 
“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”
The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.
“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 
“He was just drunk.” 
“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.
“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”
“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.
“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”
He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”
“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 
“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.
His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”
It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 
By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 
Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.
The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 
“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”
He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”
He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.
“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”
They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 
“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”
Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.
“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”
“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”
“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”
“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”
“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 
“And you, what did you do, dad?”
“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”
You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 
“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”
It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”
“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.
“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”
“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”
You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”
“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. Love you.”
“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”
“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.
“I support it now.”
“What changed your mind?”
You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”
“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.
Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”
“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.
“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”
The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.
You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.
“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.
“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”
Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”
“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”
“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”
“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I will.”
“Answer the question or go out with me?”
“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.
Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.
“But not anymore.”
Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”
“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”
“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”
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