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coco-loco-nut · 1 month

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Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

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leclercings · 2 months

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HEy!!!

Saw your post about F1 requests and I just have one idea that's been sitting in my head for the last couple weeks, so I htought why not :)

It's basically Verstappen!reader x Carlos Sainz where reader is just constantly nicknaming Carlos in Dutch and continuously saying they love him in Dutch until MAx calls her out and fluffff!! 🥹🥹

Thank you in advance :))

Hi! Finally completed it. Hope you like it x

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maxiemclaren · 21 days

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would you like to see me write fics? I've never done it before but I mean hey let's try something new! send in requests!

#formula 1 #lando norris #formula one #max verstappen #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #logan sargeant #nico hulkenberg #lewis hamilton #y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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r4ikkonen · 1 year

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✯ Get to know me ✯

Hi, my name is Violet and I like writting stories for motosport drivers,mostly Formula 1. My requests are open for now so feel free to request anything you’d like :)

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▶︎ REQUESTS CLOSED

- When writting a request please be specific on what you want me to write for

▶︎ I write for Formula 1 drivers mostly but I don’t mind writing for any other driver!

▶︎ My masterlist is located in here !

Thank you <3 Have fun reading !

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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shut up and put your money where your mouth is // oscar piastri

summary: the reserve drivers have a little mischief pool going, keeping themselves occupied on weekends where they have nothing better to do. until nico hulkenberg pushes y/n and oscar a little too far and makes them confront how they feel about each other

pairing: oscar piastri x female alfa romeo! reader

warnings: alcohol is involved, drinking games are played (spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven) and a massive prank war is waged on every driver in the paddock, implied smut scene at the end, but no smut is written. sexual innuendos because jack doohan is a little shit, y/n is too cool for oscar (she's also really mean to fernando but in a funny way . . . sorry nando) mentions of a crash ( everybody was fine, y/n is just still feeling the emotional effects )

author's note: so for a while now i've been wanting to make a story or a fic that focuses on the reserve drivers because i feel like they all sort of get forgotten, so this fic is dedicated to the reserves and those who hide behind the scenes : )

"alright, jamie and logan got the extra dye from alex, liam and dennis are going to distract the old man." y/n started eagerly, making grabby hands towards logan sargeant, who gave her a strange look before passing over the bottle of red hair dye. "oscar, do you and jack have a way of getting into his driver's room?"

the reserve drivers were standing outside the alpine hospitality building, mischeif in their eyes as a plan started brewing. the reserve and development drivers were only performatively employed through driver's academies. they had no real reason to be there on race weekends. very rarely were they actually needed.

it was natural for them to get bored, expected, even. because who wanted to stand around and look at data all day when it didn't even affect them? who wanted to take a ten hour flight to another continent just to sit around and do nothing all race weekend except look good for the team?

and that's when nico hulkenberg had made his proposal. every season, it was a new game. always disruptive to the regular drivers, always chaotic and more than once it got guenther steiner swearing at the lot of them. two teams, a season full of dares and challenges.

and may the best pranksters win.

jack doohan nodded. "it was shockingly easy to get his keys. all you've gotta do is find a way to swap out his shampoo for the dye. and then when he goes to take a shower after free practice," jack clapped his hands together. "his hair will be red before the old codger knows what hit him."

their team was the young guns, the under twenty-fives. there were more of them than anybody else, but they were competing against guys who had been there way longer: nico hulkenberg, antonio giovinazzi, robert schwartzman, nyck de vries, stoffel vandoorne and pietro fittipaldi

"i'll come inside with you. since the contract thing started, people in alpine hospitality have been giving me a wide berth." oscar piastri shrugged his shoulders, hands in the front pockets of his black chinos, making his alpine polo ride up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach.

y/n sucked in a barely audible breath, hoping that nobody around noticed.

she wasn't sure when she developed a crush on the aussie f2 champion, but she knew it wouldn't lead her anywhere good. never mix business and pleasure, so she had always been told.

no, it was better to leave oscar to his own devices. to pretend she felt nothing towards him.

"you don't have to." she said gently, pulling a denim jacket over her alfa romeo polo. with any luck, she was little-known enough that the hospitality staff wouldn't recognize her and just let her pass through.

worst comes to worst, she could always pretend she was coming to say hi to abbi pulling, who had recently signed to the alpine young driver's programme.

"you don't even know where his driver's room is."

she hated it when oscar was right. "fine." she pouted, hooking her fingers in her belt loops. "but let's make it quick, before daddy szafnauer gets the wrong idea."

jack snorted, and logan shook his head, wishing he could leave the conversation.

"excuse me, what?" the american frowned, raising his eyebrows. "there's something wrong with you."

"what?" she laughed, sipping from her plastic starbucks cup.

god, oscar would never tire of that sound, the visual of y/n throwing her head back, smile splitting her features as her hair spilled down her back.

"he's like, the fourth most fuckable team principal. don't even get me started on daddy toto."

"there's a scale?" jack looked scandalized. "i am but a mere child, too innocent for this!"

oscar snorted. "according to the country of australia, you're street legal, doohan."

"here's the scale: toto, jost, andreas, otmar, christian, mattia, mike, guenther, fred, franz. i'd fuck ted kravitz, too. don't underestimate daddy kravitz."

somehow, at the revelation that y/n wanted to fuck toto wolff, oscar's ego ached. if her type was six foot five austrian men old enough to be her father twice over, what chance did he have?

'"i know way too much about you." logan shook his head, beginning to walk backwards. "good luck fucking fernando over- bad word choice given that last conversation, let me know how it goes."'

y/n laughed, playfully punching oscar in the arm. "come on, alpine's most wanted. i've got an old man's day to ruin and a self-centered german to upstage."

y/n tossed the bottle in the air, catching it with a grin as she brushed past oscar and headed into the hospitality suite.

oscar watched her go with wide, bright eyes, attempting to casually hide the boner forming in his khaki's as his eyes zeroed in on the alfa romeo driver's sashaying backside, made extra prominent by her tight black jeans.

"you coming, problem child?" she shouted, a bright smile on her face as she stuck her head out of the glass door.

"coming in just a second!"

"i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"""i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"

"fuck off!" oscar whined, pushing jack's hands away as he sauntered up the hospitality steps. "i'm doing it for my commitment to the bit."

he wished that he had sounded like he believed it, but everybody knew that he didn't.

everybody knew that he did it because he was head over heels for y/n y/l/n.

he ran to catch up to her, directing the testing driver in the direction of fernando alonso's diver's room. fernando was never the original target of that prix weekend's scheme. in fact, y/n was never supposed to be the person who planned it. this was supposed to be frederik vesti's weekend to plan and execute the scheme.

but after an unfortunate incident in fp1 resulted in fernando cutting y/n off and sending her into the wall, cutting her coveted rookie driving session short, a session she had fought freddie vasseur tooth and nail to steal away from theo pourchaire, plans had changed and she'd swapped weekends with fred.

drawing the keys out of her jacket pocket and offloading her frappucino on the australian standing next to her, she opened the unmarked door to fernando's room, rolling her eyes at the massive spanish flag hanging on the wall.

"where's the fucker's shampoo? he doesn't get to ruin my one young driver session and get away with it." she started pacing, hands reaching to the back of her head to tap on the brim of the backwards baseball cap she was wearing. "changing his hair color is fucking mercy compared to what i should be doing to him."

"shower's are that way." oscar nodded, cocking his head towards a royal blue hallway. "how many points do you think this is going to get us with the hulk? you have to admit, that stunt he pulled on crofty and brundle last week was kind of legendary."

y/n rolled her eyes, heading towards fernando's shower and wishing she had brought gloves. seriously, what do old men get up to when they shower? she didn't want to find out. she could get a goddamn staph infection just from stepping foot in the damn thing.

"all nico did was fuck with the microphones. they fixed it in less than half an hour. all that happened was making sure that fp1 was narrated by darth vader." she shook her head, wincing as she reached into fernando's shower, wishing she could have gotten somebody else to do it. "nico shouldn't even be doing the scoring if he's participating. why can't kubica do it? he's a neutral party."

but there wasn't enough money in the world to pay one of the other reserves to stand in fernando alonso's shower.

she uncapped the bottle of men's head and shoulders, overturning it in the bathroom sink as she turned on the faucet, watching the thick, cream colored liquid bubble and fizz as it went down the drain.

"robert made it damn clear that he wants nothing to do with this." oscar laughed, trying to decipher the label on the side of the starbucks cup, curious to see what sweet concoction was in the cup, especially knowing that she didn't like to drink coffee.

"understandable. i think robert's kind of done with everybody's bullshit. mostly theo's, though. frankly, so am i. truth be told, i think vasseur wants me gone." she frowned, twisting open the bottle of red dye that logan had given her and upending it over the plastic bottle. "i don't think that he's a fan of the fact that i'm never going to drive competitively."

"that's a bullshit reason for him to fire you."

"that's what i said!" y/n complained, throwing her hands in the air as she waited for the thick red dye to drain. she wasn't even sure if her plan was going to work: fernando's hair was dark, and it was arguable that the color might not even show unless the spaniard bleached it first. "i've never wanted to drive competitively, but after what happened in magny-cours, i'll never be able to compete again."

she had never wanted the fame, the glory, the champagne and the trophies. all she'd ever wanted to do was drive. she'd had a mediocrely successful season with the w series in 2019, followed up by half a season in formula three before a three-car crash had broken four bones in her foot.

she could still drive, and she loved her job working in testing and development, but she could tell that frederic vasseur was tiring of prepping and training a driver that was never going to make it to f1. a driver that would never compete in anything ever again. the crash had stolen all of her self-confidence, and there was nothing she could do other than pack all of her dignity in a box and walk out of the prema garage, terrified to ever race again, for fear of another incident occurring. her partnership with the ferrari driver's academy had fallen through a year later, and she counted her blessings every day that alfa romeo had rescued her from the wreckage of what she had seen her life becoming.

shaking her head as she realized that the dye bottle was empty, she rinsed it out before stowing the evidence in her jacket pocket and putting the cap back on the shampoo bottle before thrusting it back into fernando's shower.

"come on, piastri." she grinned, taking her drink back from the academy driver. "let's get out of here. all we can do now is wait for the old man to have a shower, and then nico is going to have to give in and declare us the winners."

they got their answer three hours later.

y/n was walking through the paddock with jamie chadwick and jessica hawkins, twirling her paddock pass between her fingers as she made small talk with the girls she considered to be her best friends.

"so, y/n . . . " jess started, the pom pom on her signature beanie hat bouncing as the brit walked. "are you finally going to tell oscar?"

"nope." she answered. too fast, always too fast when it came to feelings. too quick to catch them, even quicker to deny them. especially when they concerned the boy at the center of every f1 news story in the last two weeks, ever since he had announced he would not be signing with alpine, but in fact would be ousting daniel ricciardo from mclaren. "never. no feelings whatsoever."

"aw, jess, look at her face go all red." jamie laughed, nudging y/n's side. "she's definitley in love with piastri."

"um, go fuck yourselves. both of you." she laughed, trying to hide how flustered she was. she had been waiting all day for fernando to come running out of hospitality, cussing her out in spanish at the top of his lungs. "the way my life is going, i might not even be around the paddock next year. i've actually started looking into testing for formula e, maybe i can become a reserve driver or something there. mclaren will need people."

"vasseur finally sick of seeing your face in his garage?" jess replied sadly. "i'm sorry, love. freddie just has a stick up his ass and someone needs to yank it out. with force."

the girls laughed, arms around shoulder's as they kept walking down the paddock. y/n froze, reaching for jess and jamie's arms, trying to get them to slow down before they walked past the alpine suite. jack and oscar were sitting on the patio with liam and dennis, waiting to see the fruits of their labour.

"who did this?! which pendejo is responsible!?"

"jesus fucking christ." jess groaned. "please tell me that you didn't."

on y/n's other side, jamie extended her hand for a low high five. "so that's what the dye was for." she laughed as the front door to alpine hospitality swung open, a furious fernando alonso standing on the front steps.

his hair was still soaking wet, but it was clear to everybody in a five mile radius that his hair was now a very vivid cherry red. the pure look of rage on the spaniard's face should have been enough to send a shockwave of terror through her body.

instead, it just made her feel alive.

at the patio table, the four boys had collapsed in laughter. jack had his head buried in his hands while liam had his phone out to videotape the entire encounter.

"did you cabrons do this?" fernando roared. "as if what you've done to the sanctity of this team wasn't enough!"

"oscar, run!" she could hear dennis hauger shout through his fit of laughter.

oscar stayed put, laughing to himself as he looked over at y/n.

and when he winked at her, she thought her legs would buckle, the butterflies spreading through her stomach so rapidly that she thought she might be sick.

she had been past the point of denying her feelings to herself a long long time ago, and now the aussie had a permanent place in her dreams, in both horny and wholesome ways. her fingers had become quite acquainted with the motions they robotically performed whenever oscar piastri appeared in her late-night fantasies.

"oi fernando!" she shouted, throwing her middle finger up in the air, ignoring all the patrons and crew members who were gawking at the alpine driver. "that's for sending me into the barriers, you old cunt!"

when fernando turned back to her, jessica grabbed her hand, and in a fit of laughter the three girls took off down the paddock to the aston martin garage.

nico hulkenberg had decided to award ten points for that stunt.

he had given himself eight points for the darth vader microphone trick.

the war would continue for weeks upon weeks, only stopping for the summer break. jessica and y/n had teamed up with liam to cover lawrence stroll's desk in plastic wrap, rendering it unusable and relishing in watching the multi-millionaire throw a fit when he couldn't figure out how to get the plastic wrap off his ikea desk. ( worth eight points. )

robert schwartzman and antonio giovinazzi had countered that by gluing clown wigs to the headphones used by the ferrari pit wall. to this day, mattia still didn't know who was responsible. ( worth five points. ferrari were already enough of a joke as is. )

and suddenly they were in sao paolo, and the season was almost over. begrudgingly, hulkenberg had relented and crowned the younger group the winners.

y/n had hefted the large lego trophy with a proud look on her face, standing in the center of oscar piastri's king-sized hotel bed while the other reserve drivers clapped for her from the floor.

they had gathered together for one last hurrah, a night without pranks or fighting or superiority complexes. a night to celebrate: logan, nyck, oscar and nico were all being promoted.

and y/n had news of her own that she planned to announce after the season ended in abu dhabi: she would be leaving f1 to go to formula e and act as the reserve and development driver for avalanche andretti now that she knew for certain that vasseur would not be renewing her alfa contract for another year.

jamie would be leaving for indy nxt, and liam for japanese super formula. it was truly their last night all together, their last night of things being the way that they used to be.

"i think we need to end this season properly." pietro insisted, reaching for the bottle of ferrari trento that was in the middle of the circle where they were all sitting. "it's our last season together, so forgive me for growing attached to you motherfuckers."

with news of nico returning to grid with his new place at haas, he had been quick to hand the reins of the prank war to his young apprentice. pietro fittipaldi intended to take his job very seriously, and was already dividing the teams for the 2023 season.

"psst, i'll still be around." y/n said, hopping down from the bed. "someone's gotta keep piastri in check. and who else is going to remind you all just how fuckable your bosses are."

"ugh, never say those words again, i beg you!" antonio begged. "if i ever hear you talk about 'daddy mattia' again, i swear i will put a laxative in your drink, just like i did to steiner."

the laxative stunt had won giovinazzi eight points, but at what cost? guenther had been pissed off for the rest of the weekend, and there had been a smell lingering around the haas motorhome despite f1's best efforts at cleaning it up.

y/n just laughed, holding out her plastic solo cup. "hit me, fittipaldi. i want as much champagne as can fit in this glass."

pietro shook his head, but abided the testing driver's request, filling the solo cup up to the line.

"what do you say that we make this night a little more interesting?" jack doohan proposed, looking over at oscar and y/n out of the corner of his eye.

the two young adults were sitting directly next to each other, their knees touching through their jeans. and then jack suddenly had the best worst idea ever.

he turned to liam, lowering his voice and whispering something into the kiwi's ear before they both burst out into sly grins.

"oi, fitti, how much champagne is left in that bottle?"

pietro frowned, looking at the green glass bottle in his hands. "like, a third. why?"

"just drink it so we can use the bottle." liam suggested, offering up his own solo cup. "pour the rest of it in here."

"nope." robert schwartzman cut in. "liam, i refuse to deal with your drunk ass again. that can be somebody else's problem today."

as pietro passed off the bottle, nico met liam's shit eating grin. still chuckling to himself, the red bull junior nodded in the direction of oscar and y/n, who were signing the nineties song blasting from pietro's phone in a very tipsy, our of key way. but somehow, they were perfectly in tune with each other, even if their rendition of 'hot in herre' didn't match up with one nelly was singing on the other end of the phone speaker.

nico's eyes widened as he watched jack set up the bottle in the middle of the circle.

they were going to play spin the bottle, but with the number of men outweighing the number of women, it was a set up for chaos. but even more than that, it was supposed to be a way to get two very specific lovesick idiots to finally admit how they felt about each other.

"who's ready for spin the bottle?!" liam shouted, being met with cheers from some of the other guys. guys who just wanted to see something really stupid that they could use as blackmail material.

but nobody missed how oscar and y/n instinctually moved away from each other as pietro shut the music off, a dusting pink on their cheeks as y/n moved to put jamie in between her and oscar.

"aren't we a little old for this?" stoffel vandoorne sighed. "we are grown ass adults."

liam shrugged. "you don't have to play if you don't want to."

"and let you jackasses have all the fun?"

"i say trophy bearer over there goes first." jack proposed, pointing at y/n.

nobody missed the way that her eyes flicked to oscar, nerves settling in her stomach. it was fine, she told herself. there was no way that the bottle would land on oscar. and next year, she'd be in a different paddock and her heart could cool down from all the ways that the aussie used to make it race.

taking a deep breath, she leaned forward to spin the empty trento bottle, nails scraping against the label. she closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and crossing her fingers behind her back that god would be on her side.

hoping and praying that it wouldn't land on oscar.

and because her eyes were still closed, she didn't have a chance to watch jack nudge his foot into the circle, stilling the bottle's movements so that it landed on oscar piastri.

oscar's face flushed pink as he leaned back against the bed. next to him, liam and jack cheered, as did nico from the other side of the circle.

"oscar and y/n!" the german cheered. "now where's the closet? we're playing full seven minutes in heaven, out here we'll set the timer. you kids have fun." nico winked

trying not to make eye contact with each other, oscar and y/n got to their feet, slowly walking over to the closet like they had been sentenced to the gallows.

"ladies first." oscar coughed out, sliding the mirrored door open and allowing y/n to slip inside the confined space. the future mclaren driver followed her inside.

they stood less than two feet apart, breaths heavy.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to." oscar said quietly. "nico is a jackass. we can just stand here and talk for seven minutes."

"oscar," she cut him off. "i need to tell you something." the time for being a coward was over. she wasn't going to be here next year. if oscar didn't feel the same, at least she wouldn't have to deal with seeing his stupid, pretty face every day. "i'm not coming back next year. vasseur told me that management is changing, and that the new guy isn't likely to keep me around if i'm never going to drive competitively again. i'm going to andretti, oscar. i'm going to be a formula e reserve in 2023."

"what? what do you mean you went to andretti?" oscar's voice was faint as he stared at her, his eyes slowly moving from her plump, pink lips, down to her tiny black garage top, the lace of her bralette peeking through the deep-cut collar, her cleavage on perfect display.

if he was ever going to do something with his feelings, now would be the time.

but y/n didn't even give him the chance, pressing up on her toes to smash her lips to oscar's, his hands flying to her waist. it was a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as oscar pushed her back against the wall.

sometimes, a kiss could say more than words.

she moaned as oscar's hands squeezed her thighs through her army green flare pants, the aussie taking that moment to gently slip his tongue in between her lips. her fingers carded at his hair, gently pulling a small handful, eliciting a growl from the driver's throat before he changed his area of focus, hungrily kissing her neck.

y/n gasped at the feeling, a sensation made double as oscar's cold hands touched her skin, teasing the bottom of her shirt, running over her toned stomach.

"oscar." she whined, feeling a familiar ache in between her thighs. in the back her mind, she wondered if they were nearing the end of their seven minutes.

or if nico had even bothered to count.

they got their answer when a harsh knock on the closet door startled oscar so much that he tripped on his own feet, falling to the carpeted floor.

"time's up, kiddos!" stoffel shouted from the other side. "make yourselves decent and then get your asses back out here."

getting decent would be difficult: her hair was a mess, a hickey already forming on the side of her neck, and there was definitely a bulge in oscar's jeans that wasn't there when the duo entered the closet.

"fuck." she mumbled, resting her head against the wall. "what do we do?"

"it's my room." oscar reminded. "i can just kick them out, and we can finish what we started."

"good plan." y/n agreed, throwing the closet door open.

the pair stumbled out, and oscar found himself tugging the tails of his button up shirt over his crotch, hoping that nobody could tell how massively turned on he was.

"everybody out!" he shouted. "this night has been incredible, but i'm very tired and have things to do in the morning." he lied blatantly, dragging dennis and jack to their feet.

logan gave him a very confused look. "the fuck? tomorrow is race day? they don't need any of us."

"logan." jamie said gently "read the room."

it took the american a minute as the rest of the reserve drivers groaned, abandoning their night of champagne and debauchery. or at least, relocating it from oscar's room. but when the pieces clicked in his mind, his eyes went wide. "what the fuck? you're kicking us out so you can fuck, aren't you?"

"ew!" robert shouted. "god, you guys are terrible!"

jack and liam just winked at each other as they slipped into the hallway, thankful that their plan had worked, and that the two would finally stop being idiots around each other.

"yes, now get the fuck out unless you want to watch." y/n concluded, kicking theo pourchaire in the back to try and get him to stand up.

"wait, live porn is an option? i'll hide in the closet, i swear you won't even know that i'm there!" pietro shouted, half joking and half not as oscar pushed him through the doorframe.

"out!" oscar shouted again, holding the door open as all of the drivers walked out in single file.

"call us in the morning and tell us all about it, love." jessica winked at y/n as she and jamie followed stoffel out.

"oh of course." y/n agreed. "see you all in the morning. or not!" she shouted down the hallway before oscar closed and locked the door.

they stood toe to toe, soft smiles on their faces.

"hi, lover." she said softly, eyes on his lips.

"hi." he said, just as soft as he pressed his lips to hers. "no, where were we?"

"well, i think you were about to do this." she hummed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

oscar's eyes darkened at the sight. the lacy black bralette was even better now that he could see all of it, the halter strap sweeping up around the back of neck. as she spun around, he could see the thin strap draping low down on her back.

"god, you're beautiful." he rasped.

she wasn't prepared for how deep his voice was going to get, but it thrilled her to no end, knowing that she'd had that effect on oscar this entire time.

"you know what makes it even better?" she lowered her voice, pretending to be distracted as she started to undo the buttons on oscar's shirt. "i'm wearing a matching thong."

"bed, now." oscar insisted, sweeping her off her feet.

it was going to be a looong night.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 8

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner

Warnings: critiquing (and rude) parents, alcohol, talk of horses from an author who knows nothing about them (and if you haven’t realised it yet, riding horses is supposed to be an analogy for racing)

Update: There should be around 17-ish chapters, but I’m also working on a fic for the brilliant and ingenious @bright-shiningstar (also a prince!charles x reader that may already be over 7k.... sorry not sorry) so they may come a little later than I would like

ao3 link next chapter>>

Two weeks went by quickly and you knew that the servants were surprised by you. When you ordered a paint job for a scandalous wallpapered room, they hadn’t thought that you would don an apron and help them. You weren’t the best at manual labour, but you tried, and soon your arms were covered in sticky paint, laughing as you tried to get it off. You spontaneously decided to hire a gardener and met a lovely man called Oscar. He was thrilled to construct the gardens of the Princess of Enza, and quickly got to work. Another man, Nico Hulkenberg, came galloping up one day dressed in the regalia of a knight, and told you that Prince Charles had sent him to make sure you stayed out of danger. You, albeit a little peeved that Prince Charles hadn’t conferred with you, allowed Nico to join Lando in a hut by the stables.

You spent many days with Lando and the horses, trying to learn as much as possible about the animals and the sport that sometimes accompanied them. Lando became a swift friend and you enjoyed his company. Not only was he extremely knowledgeable, but also funny and charming. He introduced you to two horses he had acquired from a breeder with the money you gave him. They were crudely called number sixteen and number fifty-five. He had yet to name them.

On your first day, you hesitantly climbed on number sixteen. You tried desperately to remember everything you learned from your few minutes on a horse, and luckily, it came back quickly. Lando was highly encouraging and very patient. Once you felt comfortable, he jumped on number fifty-five and joined you in the fields.

“How are you doing?” he asked, circling around to meet you.

“This is fantastic!” You smiled broadly. “But it’s a little hard to ride in a dress. I’m going to need to fashion some new garments. I may have to write to Este.”

“Whatever the princess wants,” Lando said. “Do you know what you’re going to name them?”

You hummed. “Not yet, but I’m sure the right names will come to me.”

“Milady!” You heard a shout from the house and looked back at it. Elena was waving furiously at you, trying to get your attention. “Your family is arriving!”

You swore under your breath and nudged sixteen into a swift trot. “Elena!” You tried to instruct her from your horse. “Pull out a red dress for me to wear and a white shawl. Have the household line up in front of the house. Nico should be at the doors. Make sure Oscar looks presentable and have Yuki find all of the alcohol. We’ll need it.” Elena nodded sharply and ran back into the house. “Lando,” you directed. “I want you to tend to the horses at the front of the stable. My family came a day early- we’re unprepared, but it can’t seem like that.”

You hopped off number sixteen and thrust the reins into Lando’s hands. “May I say, Princess,” Lando called out as you ran to the Villa. “You're handling this very well. You make a remarkable leader.”

“Thank you, Lando.” He could tell that you were sincere. It was exactly what you needed to hear.

Sara rushed you upstairs the moment you stepped in the door. “May I ask, Princess,” she wondered as she undid the laces to your plain, around-the-house gown. “Why red? I thought you wanted to hold onto Williams for as long as you could.”

“No, no, no,” you bundled your hair into an updo. “I don’t care about holding onto Williams- they did nothing for me. I’m simply trying to aggravate whomever I hate most of all. If I see my parents, I change to red for Enza. If I see Prince Charles, I change to blue for Williams.”

“And if you see both?” Sara couldn’t help but smile at your antics. It reminded her of when you were younger, always finding a new mess to get into with your siblings. You stepped into the red dress and Sara pulled it up and started clipping and tying it into perfection.

“Ah, but that won’t ever happen.” You wagged a finger at her. “They don’t care enough to visit me at the same time.”

“Ma’am, they’re here.” Elena popped her head in the doorway and Sara yanked on the corset of your dress once more before twisting the strings into a bow.

You nodded, straightened your back, and strode down the stairs and out the door. The servants were already lined up elegantly and you couldn’t find one thing that your mother would pick apart. Two carriages stood outside, one containing your family, and the other, their belongings. You inwardly cringed at the amount of possessions they brought with them.

“Y/n, darling!” Your mother swept down from the carriage and embraced you tightly. “How have you been? Have you been surviving? It’s a momentous task to run a household and I was so worried you couldn’t live up to it.”

Only three seconds in, and you already wanted to strangle her. If it were only your siblings, then their stay would’ve been joyful. Unfortunately, your parents had spontaneously invited themselves, filling you with annoyance and dread.

“The wedding was phenomenal,” your father appeared at your mother’s side. “And how is Prince Charles? I assume he wanted to stay back at the palace, as this quaint house is no place for royalty, but I hope the wedding night went well?”

“Why don’t you get settled in, hm?” You blatantly ignored their questions, not offering so much as a ‘hello’. Your mother tittered disapprovingly at your words, but sashayed in the house, looking for inconsequential details to criticise. Your father clapped a hand on your bare shoulder, making you jump. True to his word, Este had altered some of your dresses for warmer weather, but you were now regretting it. You pulled your shawl tighter around you.

“Y/n, I am so sorry.” Your sister’s voice made you turn around. Brenda looked terribly guilty as Robert helped her down. “I couldn’t find an excuse to stop them from coming.”

“We tried,” Ralph rolled his eyes. “We tried so hard. But they persisted. They were adamant about visiting you.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I’m glad you three came along. It’ll be easier to diffuse the tension. How’s Cambria doing?” You asked Robert about his heavily pregnant wife. The doctor had confined her to bed, the reason why she wasn’t with him on this trip.

“She’s splendid.” Robert grinned happily. “We’re both very excited. I’m cutting my visit short, however, to get back to her. I’ll only stay three days.”

“Oh, that’s fine! Give her my love when you return,” you said. You were delighted to have a niece or nephew. It would give you an excuse to visit Williams more often.

“I feel so bad for Cambria and Robert.” Brenda shook her head and looped her arm through yours. “Mother’s been hounding them ever since she found out Cambria was with child. Ralph’s been lucky to escape her eye.”

“The only good thing about marriage,” you muttered. “Getting away from mother.”

Brenda made a noise of agreement. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Dinner was stressed. Your father and Robert sat at the head. Ralph had drawn the short straw and had to sit next to your mother. Your glass of wine had been refilled three times. Awkward conversation had been sprinkled throughout, ranging from politics to talk of your recent marriage, though you wondered if they weren’t the same thing. Your father had delightedly bragged about the new finances and influx of immigrants that had been brought to Williams because of the new, prosperous relationship with Enza. You had ordered another round of drinks after that.

Mercifully, Elena tapped on your shoulder, whispering, “Milady, may I talk to you? Something has come up.”

You eagerly pushed away from the table and followed her to the foyer. “Please tell me this will take longer than fifteen minutes. I need a break from them. Don’t get me wrong, Elena, I love my family, especially my brothers and sisters, but sometimes my parents can be a bit much. I bought the Foundling Villa to escape everything, but people just keep showing up.”

Elena grimaced and said, “On that note, Princess, uh, another visitor has arrived.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples to try and stop the oncoming headache. “I will pay you double for the next year if you get them to go away. I don’t care who they are; I cannot stand someone else here.”

“Yes, well, ma’am,” Elena stuttered through her words. “I’m not sure I can do that to your husband, who, if you’ve forgotten, is the prince of Enza.”

Cursing, you threw open the door to see Prince Charles stepped down from a royal carriage bedecked in Enzan colours. He straightened his mantle, ran a hand through his hair, and then locked eyes with you. Prince Charles smiled sheepishly and shrugged, as if to say, Sorry, but I wanted to come see you.

“Elena.” You turned back to the frightened maid. “Please tell Sara to pick out a purple dress. I’m trying to displease many people tonight.”

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lord perceval #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc #lando norris #esteban ocon #este ocon #nico hulkenberg

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jwnchstr · 2 years

Text

Happiest Birthday | d.r3

summary: being a renault engineer, you become friends with daniel ricciardo. but it was two years after that, when he drives for mclaren that it changed everything.

warning: fluffy, safe love

characters: daniel ricciardo x you

other fics masterlist | f1 masterlist

* * *

your team might not have one of the best cars on the grid. your team might not win as many points and podiums as red bull and mclaren. but one thing you know about your team is, everyone is good with everybody and is close like siblings.

today, you were quite frustrated with how the race turned out for your team, renault. not only you were not able to bring your driver until the last lap, but your car blew out. as his engineer, you and your crews have made sure that everything was in good condition before the race. well, maybe it’s not your luck yet.

the boss was sad for you because, after all, this is all about team work. if one person failed, it means the whole team failed and your boss and your driver are the one who have to face the medias. not you, not the crews, not even the team’s journalists. but one thing that you salute your team is that, they didn’t let the loss bring them down for the rest of the day, knowing that they have other races to win points.

and, certainly, no matter what the results for sunday race, they will have parties with other teams who won even before the night approaches. it happens that today is the day.

well, it’s your birthday today and that’s a fact. you thought you could finish the race, at least, for your birthday present, but when it didn’t happen, your team had another idea. they threw a surprise birthday party for you at renault motorhome.

“oh, thank you, guys!” you said as your team continued to cheer for you once they finished singing the happy birthday song. “seriously. from the bottom of my heart, thank you for this celebration. you guys made my day especially after what happened.”

“don’t pressure yourself too much. we’ve got 7 more countries to finish,” your driver said. he absolutely knows how to hide his sadness with that big of smile on his face. he’s still wearing his driving uniform, though the top was already pushed down to his waist.

“you still did a great job, out there,” cyril, your boss said. his accent thick. “and have you seen other women engineers here? not many. you’re one of the lucky ones so.”

you smiled at them. “thank you. thank you so much.”

you began cutting the cake as cameras flashing around you. some of your teams are also taking videos of one of your favourite days in a year, knowing that the editing team will make a compilation for memories. take it like the highschool yearbook.

one second after that, just as fast as how an F1 goes, your driver grabbed a handful of your cake and smashed it on your face. “FOOD WAR!” one of your teams announced. just as soon as that, you chased your driver with the whole cake in your hand, plotting a revenge against your driver.

on another scene, daniel was just finished taking a walk with his coach. apparently, it was only not renault who was having a bad day today, but also for daniel with mclaren. as it’s only a few first race for him, he was having a hard time to adapt mclaren’s technology, though lando was picking it up fast. he heard a cheerful of laughters and screams and he wondered where it came from.

“where is that? what’s happening?” daniel asked, looking around the paddock, but nothing seems busy.

“must be renault.”

“renault?” daniel was still confused. renault finished below mclaren, below him. how can they still partying at their motorhome at daylight?

“guess they’re celebrating y/n’s birthday.”

“y/n’s birthday? what-- it’s today?!” daniel’s eyes went wide as he started to realise something. “oh god.”

daniel ricciardo, a renault driver alongside nico hulkenberg in 2019, was one of your best friends. as an engineer, you communicate with him and nico alot for engine improvements. and for having the same gym session at the gym daniel went to, made both you inseperable one time that people thought you two were secretly dating.

two years was short for you and daniel to get to know each other, but he was still friendly with you even now being at different team. he still texts you some times just to keep updated about your life and health. he would still ask how he was doing after race.

but most important thing is, he remembers your birthday. on his second and last year with renault, he was the first person to wish you happy birthday sharp at 12 a.m.. even the next day at work, he wouldn’t stop singing the happy birthday song for you. and he did bought a nice phone case that you think was cute at the F1 merchandise kiosk, that you still use until now.

now, back to present.

other teams are less likely to be allowed to enter other team’s motorhome. even if they were, they’re only allowed at the porch where the teams would usually have their relaxing times at. but daniel being daniel, he entered the motorhome just as when you’re ready to throw the cake at your driver.

well, initially, it was meant to be thrown at your driver. but he was sneaky that he managed to slip. the whole cake was smashed onto daniel’s face and torso before you could stop yourself. the motorhome went silent for a few seconds. but michael broke it. the renault motorhome then followed and eventually, everybody’s laughing at your mistake..

“daniel? what are-- oh, shit!” you started laughing with your team as you slowly backed away. being friends with daniel, you already know that there’s something going on behind his mind.

and you were right when he immediately sprinted towards you, chasing after you for a payback. you couldn’t get that far though as the room was packed with people who refused to give you a space to escape because they were busy filming you. daniel was quick to take his advantage by grabbing your waist, pulling your closer and hugging your from behind, making sure that the cake that smeared on his face and torso got onto you, too.

“no! danny! aw, the cake! it’ll be hard to do the laundry!” the fact that you’re wearing your uniform... if only you were wearing a casual t-shirt, you could make this a reason to throw it away.

“this is what you get for not inviting me to your birthday party!” he was still hugging your close as you struggled to be free.

“i don’t know! it was a surprise-- ah!” you squeaked. for struggling quite aggressively, you lost your balance when daniel let you go, but he managed to catch you before you fell.

face-to-face with daniel, smiling form ear-to ear, he said, “happy birthday, princess!” and quickly connected his lips on yours.

it all happened so fast. one second, you were shocked feeling his lips on yours. your eyes crossed as you stared at daniel’s eyelids. but the next second, daniel pulled away before you could react. his eyes staring into yours with a smirk at the end of his lips. just then, when you realise what was happening, you two were kissing again, but this time you went first and you were kissing him back.

#daniel ricciardo #fluff #fluffy #f1 #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine #mclaren

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its-avalon-08 · 16 days

Note

Can you write a Nico Hulkenberg x Deaf Reader? press being a pain in the a****, but the fans and drivers always supporting!!

signing my way to you (nh27)

(im sorry this took so much time, based on recent requests i have been super consumed by everything)

nico hulkenberg wrestled with the steering wheel, knuckles white. the monaco grand prix was a blur – the roar of the crowd, the blur of the track – all secondary to the image that burned in his mind. y/n, his girlfriend of a year and a half, her face flushed with a mix of anger and hurt, as a reporter peppered her with condescending questions about her sign language.

it wasn't the first time. since their relationship became public, the press had transformed y/n into a caricature – the silent accessory to a racing driver. they'd mock her conversations with other drivers' girlfriends, their words dripping with a disrespect that made nico see red.

he pulled into the pits, the anger a hot coal in his chest. as he climbed out, his engineer, liam, placed a hand on his shoulder. "nico, calm down. max and lewis already tore into those reporters in the pre-race interview."

nico grunted, his gaze flickering to the monitor showing the post-race interview. max verstappen, ever the blunt one, was giving a scathing rebuttal.

"honestly, some of these reporters need to get a life. y/n is an intelligent, kind person, and frankly, none of your business. how about we focus on the actual race?"

lewis hamilton followed suit, his voice cool but firm. "max is right. y/n is a part of the f1 family, and we all respect her. perhaps you reporters could try the same."

nico felt a surge of gratitude towards his fellow drivers. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, and daniel ricciardo all chimed in, their defenses a shield around y/n.

almost all people on the paddock had learnt basic sign language ever since y/n came. they loved her sarcastic personality and dry humor. the wags like alexandra (charles's girlfriend) was so fluent in sign language that you both used to gossip for hours on end.

later, at the team debrief, nico found y/n by the window, her back to him. he approached slowly, his heart heavy. "hey," he signed softly.

y/n turned, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "hey yourself. rough interview session, huh?" she signed, her expression wry.

nico wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting on her head. "those reporters are a bunch of—" he stopped himself, frustration momentarily eclipsed by the need to protect her. "they don't deserve your tears, okay?"

y/n squeezed his hand. "i know. max, lewis, everyone… they were amazing."

a fierce pride swelled in nico's chest. "they wouldn't have it any other way. you're one of us, y/n."

the next day, the internet exploded. fans rallied behind y/n, showering her with messages of support. #respectY/N trended worldwide. the tide was turning. the atmosphere was different. reporters approached y/n with a newfound hesitancy. she greeted them with a polite smile, her hand resting on nico's arm, a silent statement of their unity.

the journey wouldn't be easy. but with nico, his fellow drivers, and the fans by her side, y/n wouldn't be silenced. they would rewrite the narrative, one race, one sign, at a time.

the barcelona paddock bustled with pre-race energy. y/n, hand in hand with nico, navigated the throng of fans. today was different. gone were the snickers and pointed fingers that used to follow her. instead, enthusiastic waves and shy smiles greeted them.

suddenly, a young girl, no older than eight, broke free from her parents' grasp. her gaze locked onto y/n, her eyes wide with excitement. the girl's father rushed to apologize, but y/n knelt down, a warm smile on her face.

the girl, her face flushed crimson, fumbled with her backpack, pulling out a brightly colored friendship bracelet. tentatively, she held it out to y/n, signing in broken but clear motions, "love you!"

y/n's heart melted. "thank you, sweetie!" she signed back, taking the bracelet gently. it was woven with vibrant pink and blue beads, a perfect match for the one adorning y/n's wrist.

nico chuckled, pulling out a similar bracelet from his pocket. "didn't know you were starting a trend, love."

y/n winked at him, then surprised the girl by tying the bracelet around her wrist. the girl's face broke into a joyous grin, and she launched herself into a hug around y/n's waist.

news of the interaction spread like wildfire. soon, a line of fans, young and old, gathered, each eager to exchange a bracelet with y/n and sign their message of support.

a teenage boy, clutching a slightly misshapen homemade sign that read "you inspire us, y/n!" approached, his cheeks flushed. he fumbled with his hands, finally signing, "thank you for showing us that being different is okay."

y/n squeezed his hand, her smile even wider. "thank you for showing me the power of kindness," she signed back.

a wave of warmth washed over her. this wasn't just about the bracelets; it was about a connection, a silent conversation that transcended words. it was a victory lap for inclusivity, a celebration of the human spirit.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock, y/n looked up at nico, his eyes filled with pride. her wrists were adorned with a kaleidoscope of colors, each bracelet a tiny token of appreciation.

"this is amazing," she signed, her voice thick with emotion.

nico leaned down and kissed her forehead. "they see you, y/n. you're an inspiration."

and in that moment, amidst the cheering crowds and the roar of engines, y/n knew she was finally home. the silence that once defined her had become a bridge, connecting her to the world in a way she never thought possible.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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its-avalon-08 · 27 days

Text

requests are now open <3

hello lovlies! my inbox is now open and ready for requests. so send them in and i'll make sure to write all of them! any topic works, i might not write smut (i will decide after seeing the request) but any driver, any trope, any topic works! super excited! <3

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leclercings · 2 months

Text

F1 requests - closed

SFW🤍 only

Drivers - MV1, LN4, FA14, CL16, CS55, OP81, GR63

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

route 66 // charles leclerc ( ii )

summary: after crashing in radiator springs, charles meets y/n y/l/n, the hotshot lawyer intent on making him fix what he broke

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

warnings: horrifically inaccurate courtroom scene. charles is still a dick, the sheriffs wife was killed but it’s only mentioned once I think.

authors note: part TWO of the radiator springs series. comment what characters you think each one matches up to!

CHARLES LECLERC: MISSING IN ACTION

following the three way tie at the french grand prix between renaults carlos sainz jr, alfa romeo saubers charles leclerc and ferrari alum kimi raikkonen, one of the drivers has vanished.

alfa romeo released a statement this morning appealing for information after it was revealed that leclerc, age 20, left a paris bar on his own after drinking his body weight in tequila.

“charles, mate,” toro rosso driver pierre gasly pleads “if you’re seeing this, just come home. we’re worried sick about you.”

“if the tie breaker has you that worried, talk to somebody.” marcus ericsson, leclercs teammate adds. “we can help you through this.”

the tie breaker event, which was due to be held at the nurburgring in germany, is still set to go on, but the fia have agreed that a no showing by leclerc will forfeit his contention for this years world title.

renault arrived in germany early this morning to get the lay of the track, which hasn’t been used for a race in some years, with temmates sainz and nico hulkenberg eager to put the black and yellow car on the f1 map.

“obviously I am worried about charles” sainz remarks “but at the end of the day, he’s still my opponent and my chance at the world title has to come first right now.”

when charles woke up, he didn’t know where he was. the ceiling above him was bare and stuccoed, and the mattress against his back was hard and uncomfortable.

and his head hurt like hell.

“where am I?” he asked groggily, casting aside the straw-like, bare-bones blanket that had been draped across his limber frame as he passed into his drunken slumber.

he barely remembered the events of the previous day, but he also trusted that his memory would come back. he had survived worse hangovers with pierre before.

“you’re in radiator springs.” a voice answered his question from down the hall, startling him out of bed as the lock on the wooden door clicked open, a face staring at him from the crack in the door.

“who the fuck are you?”

“mateo, I own the trucking company, the salvage yard, yada yada yada.” mateo was wearing paint-stained overalls, his dark hair messy and tangled. there was a mole on his chin, and a grease stain across the bridge of his nose. “and you’re charles leclerc!”

charles sat up a little straighter. “you know who I am?”

“of course I do. you’re the jackass who totalled an alfa in the community garden in the town square! man, you were plastered!”

the alfa romeo driver deflated, falling back onto the bed.

“mateo!” another voice, this one sharply accented in something slavic, screamed down the hallway. “what have I said about talking to the prisoners?”

mateo flushed red, cursing under his breath before answering. “to not.”

“so why are you doing it, boy?” the sheriff grimaced, stalking down the hallway.

“I mean, the drunk tank is a pretty gloomy place. I thought charles might want someone to talk to.”

“so does that mean you’re letting me out?” the alfa romeo driver dared to dream, knowing that people would be worried sick about him

that, and the fact that he no longer wished to be behind a door that locked from the outside.

the sheriff laughed raucously, placing a plastic tray on the bed next to charles. “son, the only place that you are going is going to be your bail hearing in an hour, so eat up. you’ll be seeing a lot of this room in the future.”

the sheriff left the driver to his own devices, locking the door behind him. charles slumped down on the carpet, staring at the grey oatmeal in the green plastic bowl that had been left for him before sniffing his shirt and gagging at how terrible he smelled.

how had he let his life come to this?

fifty five minutes later, radiator springs county courtroom

the courtroom was packed with displeased townsfolk, the citizens furious about their destroyed town square. charles was sitting nervously behind a desk at the front of the courtroom, waiting for the proceedings to start.

he was certain that the team would have it under control, that somehow alfa knew that he had totalled his car and were already sending help his way, and hopefully a lawyer. mateo sat next to him at the desk, face freshly cleaned of any grease and his coveralls replaced with jeans and a tattered polo shirt.

“all rise!”

the gallery promptly got to their feet, multiple glares discreetly sent charles’ way. charles was still groggy, and the sheriff had ultimately decided not to give him any headache relief tablets.

the doors at the end of the hall opened and footsteps thundered around the room, a grey-haired, imposing man striding down the aisle in a three piece suit, briefcase in hand.

“you may be seated”

charles gulped, looking over at the judge who was seated behind the dock, slamming down his gavel and turning to charles with a glare.

“I know who you are.” the judges gravelly voice sent shivers down the drivers spine. the nameplate read ‘the honorable h. bacri.’ “you’re one of those open wheel racing drivers who think the world is going to bend over backwards for you. you fuck a different girl every night, enjoying all of life’s sinful pleasures. it’s shameful.”

the room was silent. charles’ head was spinning, and he fought the urge to close his eyes and rest his head in the surface of the worn desk in front of him.

“I want you out of my courtroom and out of my town-“

bacri was cut off by the doors at the end of the hall once again being thrown open. charles’ breath seized in his throat as he watched the woman stride into the courtroom, drsssed in a white blouse revealing her cleavage and red bell-bottoms pants that emphasized parts of her body making charles dick shamelessly stand up in his jeans.

“sorry I’m late, your honour!” she said, taking a seat at the other desk.

“no worries, cherie.” charles chuckled “thanks for coming, but they’re letting me go. you aren’t needed in a professional capacity any more, but in a personal capacity…what do you say we get the team to set us up in a nice little villa in the south of italy, and we can spend some quality time in bed.”

the woman laughed, a sound that set fire to every nerve end in his body. “you’re letting him go, hilaire? have you gone soft?”

that’s when the first warning bells went off in charles’ mind. there was no way alfa romeo had sent her if she was trying to sway to judge in the other direction.

“who is that?” the monegasque hissed at mateo, who was pretending to be his lawyer

“that’s y/n y/l/n, the town attorney.”

fuck.

“he destroyed our town monument.” y/n continued pleading, on her feet now. “and you’re going to let him walk? he needs to stay and out the square back together! have you no pride in our town?”

“motherfucker” charles grumbled

three hours later and he was set up with gardening supplies in the town square, slaving away underneath the hot, beady sun as he started digging out all of the plants his car had destroyed the night before, mateo droning on next to him.

“I heard you are race car driver?” a thick italian voice broke into his senses. charles turned around to see a tall, well-dressed man in linen, standing next a shorter man dresses almost the same way.

“yes, I am.” charles admitted desperately, hoping to find some sympathy. “if you can help me get out of here, I have to get to another race by next week.”

“I am giovanni, and this is my brother lukas. we have always dreamed of meeting a real race car driver. do you drive for ferrari?”

the young driver nodded vigorously. “I will be, once I win that next race! I am with alfa romeo right now!”

giovanni sniffled, turning up his nose. “lukas and I only like the ferraris.”

the two italians walked away, leaving charles to his own devices, resentment seeping into his bones as he lay down on the grass, staring at the clouds.

he was stranded in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, and he was going to lose all chance at the title because of community service he didn’t even think he deserved.

“hey racer boy!” a familiar voice shouted, prompting charles to sit up. y/n y/l/n was striding towards him, two bottles of water and a paper bag in her arms.

“what the fuck do you want?” he spat “here to gloat?”

y/n shook her head, sitting on the destroyed stone wall next to him. she was wearing striped denim shorts and a tight white t-shirt, the pattern of her bra just faintly visible through the fabric as she bent over, pulling a styrofoam takeout container from her bag.

“just because I’m making you take responsibility doesn’t mean I want you to suffer.” she passed him the container and a set of plastic cutlery before reaching back into the bag.

“take some of this.” the young lawyer insisted, passing charles a bottle of tylenol. “I bet volkov didn’t give you any. don’t mind him.” she nodded towards the sheriff, who was watching Charles from his patrol car. “his wife was murdered, and he lost all faith. he left moscow a few years later, roaming europe until this opportunity popped up for him. I think he’s still grieving.”

they sat in silence, eating takeaway burgers from emilies diner. the garden was a wreck, and the mere thought of trying to fix the entire task, especially with mateo and volkov peering over his shoulders made his stomach churn.

he was so close to ferrari, his dream, jules’ dream. and it was slipping through his fingers.

“romain is fixing your car, he says it will take at least a week.” y/n began. “gio is ordering in some fresh tyres and you’ll be ready to go as soon as this garden is done, and the judge will personally fly you out to germany to make sure you don’t come back”

“sounds reasonable to me.” he grumbled dryly. “I shouldn’t even be here in the first place.” after taking the tylenol, he felt marginally better, but his ego was still bruised.

and sitting next to the vixen that caused all his problems wasn’t doing him any favours.

“here’s a key for my Inn. it’s empty, so any room you want is yours, but this key is to the biggest one.” y/n broke into his train of thought, pressing a metal key into his hand. “it’ll be better than the town drunk tank. god knows that well need it for gio and luk if ferrari fuck up another race in any series. if you need anything, just call.”

and as she walked away, charles managed to tear his eyes from her ass to look at the key in his hand, one thought in his head.

maybe radiator springs wasn’t so bad after all.

#lovelytsunodas radiator springs series #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc #I want to know if yall know who each character represents in the cars universe #SoundCloud

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