#bahrain gp crash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

babies and bahrain | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 4.4 words request: yes, by anons: "hii bestie can i get a fic where the reader and charles are guardians of their godchild and on the child calls them mommy and daddy for the first time? i love your writing btw I’ve been binge reading your fics." & "hii can i request a soft fluffy charles fic? i love your writing style 💕" & "hello! can we have a imagine with reader and charles with a long term relationship at bahrain gp 2022? 🥺" warnings: kids, fluff, angst, death(mentioned only), car crash (mentioned only), language (like one or two), hospitals. a/n: i am finally posting something. i've been hating everything i write lately, but hopefully it's only temporary because i want to work on something to celebrate when we (hopefully soon) hit 3k. literally can't believe i'm typing that. we're so close to three thousand, what the fuck. also, i have no idea how the legal system works, let's remember that this is all fiction, please.

my masterlist

the moment violet was born, you and charles fell in love with her. the first few months of her life you would visit the new parents every chance you could. caroline and nolan were close friends of charles, and they instantly welcomed you into their group when you and charles started dating. charles loved violet, he’d always get her every baby-related thing he saw wherever he went. dolls, princess onesies, toys, anything that reminded him of her.

you were the same, offering to babysit when your friends wanted some alone time, or wanted to go out for a date. often, the five of you would go out to kid-friendly spots.

‘violet needs to spend time with her favorite aunt and uncle’, charles would say. every chance he got, she was in his arms. caroline would always laugh, chastise him and tell him she would get used to being carried. 'good thing i have strong arms, then.' he'd reply, pressing his forehead against the baby's head.

it wasn't a surprise when you and charles were asked to be her godparents, but you were still over the moon when you arrived at their house and saw violet wearing a shirt that read ‘will you be my godparents?’. you and charles hugged the -then- six-month-old baby and her parents, promising to take care of her as much as you could.

the day everything changed, it started just like any other. you were in italy with charles, he had some duties at the ferrari museum in maranello, so you took the day to explore the city, seeing ferrari plastered on almost every wall. you entered a small shop and were instantly drawn to a plushie of a cat. violet loved cats. well, they didn’t have any pets, but everytime she saw one on tv she always yelled in delight. you picked it up and paid for it, walking to the museum to wait for charles.

you had a special badge around your neck, so security let you through without too much trouble. you sat on a bench outside, grabbing your phone to check if you had missed anything. you were scrolling mindlessly when you saw an unknown number calling. you recognized the area code as one in france. you frowned but picked up anyway.

you’d always wondered how you’d act in case of an emergency. you’d seen so many tv shows and movies where the characters ran through the hospital, some screaming, asking where their loved ones were, others in shock. you never thought, never hoped, to be in that position one day.

your heart was beating fast, pounding inside your chest as you held onto charles’ hand. he was almost running, following the signs until he reached a nurse station.

in shock. in case of an emergency, you were the one in shock. your eyes were glossy as you let charles guide you to the icu, you could hear him mumbling under his breath, but couldn’t understand what he was saying. you could see the automatic doors that led to the icu, you gripped charles’ hand before walking in, making him halt his steps.

he turned to look at you, he had small tears in the corners of his eyes. you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down and hiding your face in his neck. the tears fell freely, you could feel his chest shaking as well.

“we have to go in,” charles said, still holding on to your waist. you nodded but didn’t let go of him. “we-we have to find out how they are, and-”

an unmistakable soft whimper made its way into your ears, charles paused mid-sentence and you both turned your heads to the side.

“violet!” charles said, you both ran to the woman who was carrying your goddaughter. ten-month-old violet’s eyes were wide open, you could see the terrified look on her face as she was in a completely unknown place with strangers. “is she okay?” he asked.

“she’s alright. she’s been checked by the pediatricians and everything seems fine,” she gave you a small smile, “i’m the social worker in charge of the case, who are you?” she asked.

“we’re violet’s godparents,” charles said, gripping your hand. your arms ached, longing to hold her in your safe embrace.

“w-why do they need a social worker?” you asked, placing your free hand on charles' arm. the social worker was about to speak when violet started crying. charles took a step, and violet leaned forward as well. charles took his goddaughter from the social worker's arms, and for the first time since you got that awful call, you let out a deep breath, knowing that violet was finally safe. you seemed to forget that there was someone else present, at that moment, all your focus was on violet, on the way she clung onto the both of you, her godparents, the only people she had left in the world now.

nolan and caroline didn’t have any direct family, but they had each other. and they had you and charles.

“can we see them?” you asked, violet was playing with your finger. “is- is caroline still in surgery?” the social worker didn’t know how to answer, she walked to the nurse station right outside the intensive care unit, where you’d heard they were keeping nolan. you followed her, your gaze flickering between violet, charles, and the social worker. the look on the latter’s face didn’t make you feel reassured.

“when can we see them?” charles asked again, a bit too loud than he intended, causing violet to flinch. charles handed her to you, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“only family is allowed in, and-”

“we’re family. we’re all the family they have,” charles interrupted.

you were told to wait, you sat on two uncomfortable chairs, holding violet in your arms. the social worker was standing in front of you.

“did you ever discuss what would happen with violet in case…” she started, you both froze.

“w-why are you saying that?” you asked, looking from her, to charles.

“the doctor is coming, he will fill you in on their condition, but… we need to know their wishes about violet’s future in case they don’t… you know,”

“we’ll take care of her,” charles said, without wasting a second, without any doubt. “that’s what we signed up for when we agreed to be her godparents. to take care and be there for her whenever,” he told her. then, he looked at you, you nodded your head, taking his hand in yours.

“we will take care of her, no matter what happens.”

the next few days went by in a blur. you felt so many emotions at the same time. grief, pain, fear, helplessness. you’d had to do so many things in just a few days. saying goodbye to your friends was probably the hardest. even though the doctors tried their best to save both of them, their injuries from the car crash were too much.

your full focus was on violet. you pushed aside your feelings and grief to focus on the little baby you’d now found yourself in charge of. you’d gotten in contact with a lawyer, who promised to help you as much as she could to get violet’s custody. you didn’t know if you were mentally prepared to take care of a child, but you weren’t alone. charles wanted this as much as you did, it was what you’d signed up for, as he said.

you’d recruited the rest of your friend group to look for a will or a document that stated their wishes for violet’s custody, but found nothing. you never talked about that topic, you were all way too young, you still had plenty of time you think about the future. or at least, you should’ve.

the second night after the funeral, violet was sleeping in the crib you’d bought a day before, next to your bed. you were lying on your side, your eyes were closed but you couldn’t sleep. you turned so your back was against the mattress, you looked up at the ceiling and sighed. you felt charles moving beside you, you turned your head to see him looking at you.

“did i wake you?” you whispered, he shook his head, giving you a small smile. you got closer to him, resting your head on his chest. you both stayed quiet, you could feel his fingers playing with your hair. “do you think we can do this?” you asked after a few seconds of silence.

“i don’t know,” he said, and even though it wasn’t the answer most people would’ve wanted, you felt comfort in knowing that he was just as nervous as you. “but i don’t want violet to go away, not when we can give her everything she needs,” he continued. “it will be difficult for all of us, but violet needs us,”

“of course. i want her with us as well, but are we ready for this change?”

“we have to be, there’s no turning back now. but hey, we’re in this together, okay? we got each other. it will take a little while to get used to a new routine, but we can do this, alright?” he said, grabbing your hand and lifting it up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. “we got this,” he nodded his head. you looked up at him, kissing his cheek.

a month passed, violet was still in your care whilst you were going through the adoption process. and now more than ever, you were sure that you were ready to give the little baby everything she might need. each day you spent with her you fell even more in love with her, you didn't know how it was possible, but she brightened up your day, she had taught you so much already.

of course, the first few weeks were messy, having to adjust to the presence of violet in your lives 24/7. there were nights when you thought you couldn't do it, nights when violet stayed up almost all night, crying uncontrollably, and you knew that the one thing she needed were her parents. you'd cry with her, sometimes.

one particular night, charles wasn't home, he'd traveled to paris, violet’s hometown and the place where all the legal process was taking place. you’d put violet down to sleep, since it was past her bedtime. you sat on a stool in the kitchen, replying to a text charles had sent. turns out, things were going to be a little more complicated than you had first thought. as you sent the text, you received a call from him.

"hi, love," you said, propping your phone against a napkin holder to see him better. he was sitting on a chair in his hotel room, you figured he must’ve made the call from his laptop, since you could see a mess of documents littering a wooden table.

“hey,” he sighed, you frowned.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, “didn’t get good news today?” you leaned your chin on your fist, your elbow propped on the kitchen island.

“no,” he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. you could see the dark circles under his eyes. “they said that- in order to adopt we-” he sighed before continuing, “at least one of us has to be twenty-eight years old, we have to be married- or prove that we’ve been together for a couple of years, and-” he rambled, you stopped him.

“hey, hey, slow down,” you said, watching as he shook his head in desperation. “charles, i know it looks like we might be in a gray area right now, but we have time. as long as violet can stay in our care, we have time to make sure every requirement is in order. we’re working with the best of the best, we’re all doing what we can. as long as we have violet’s custody, we’ll be okay,”

the morning of violet’s first birthday, you woke up extra early, wanting to surprise her. you went downstairs and started hanging decorations, balloons, colored strings, everything you’d bought a few days ago. once everything was finished, you checked her room to make sure she was still asleep, taking the baby monitor with you to the bathroom.

you’d always loved the luxury of taking long, warm showers, but now, with a kid under your care, you’d learned to shower in less than ten minutes. you did your hair in a comfortable way, and threw on some joggers and one of charles’ shirts, walking to violet’s room once you heard her moving around.

“good morning, princess!” you smiled, seeing violet standing up, holding herself up with her fists around the crib. “oh, you’re a big girl now, aren’t you?” you laughed as you approached her, running your hands through her hair, getting the curls away from her face. “you’re going to start walking any day now, miss,” she smiled, bending her knees in excitement, trying to jump as she giggled.

you held her in your arms, pressing soft kisses to the side of her head, to her cheek, her forehead. one of your arms was supporting her under her bum, you noticed that she was in desperate need of a diaper change, but you ignored that at that moment. your other hand was on her back, keeping her close to your chest. you’d installed black-out curtains in her room, to make sure she got as much sleep as possible in the mornings.

“happy first birthday, violet,” you whispered in her ear.

right then, with the little bit of sunlight peeking in through the curtains, for the first time, you felt like her mother. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, that was how you greeted her every morning, but that, you figured, was the beauty of motherhood. finding the special in the most simple and ordinary moments.

you looked up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes starting to burn as they filled with tears. maybe you didn’t have nolan and caroline anymore, but you had violet. and you promised to love her and protect her, raise and cherish her just as much as they would’ve done, had they had the chance.

violet lifted her arm, without measuring her strength, she moved it towards you, hitting you on your face. that brought you out of your thoughts. you laughed as you looked down at her, walking to the changing table you’d set up, you placed her down and changed her.

about thirty minutes later, you heard the front door opening and closing, you’d stayed upstairs with violet, waiting for charles to get there. he was in charge of setting up all of her presents, the ones you’d approved, and the ones charles secretly bought when you fell asleep that night a few weeks ago.

you were on the floor, playing with violet as you two heard the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. you looked at violet, who was still holding the bright yellow lego, but her eyes were now stuck to the opened door of her bedroom. you pulled out your phone, recording her curious face as her eyes widened in anticipation.

“who’s that?” you asked. you held back a laugh as charles finally appeared in her line of sight.

“where’s the birthday girl?” charles said, kneeling down, he spread his arms to the sides, watching as violet first started crawling her way to him, but then, she stopped. she kept her hands on the floor as she planted her feet on the floor. charles’ eyes widened, you’d told him that violet was standing up, but he hadn’t had the chance to see her.

instantly, you both leaned closer to her, your were both ready to step in and catch her if she couldn’t keep her balance. but, she stood up, she straightened her back as you and charles held your breaths, and then, she took her first steps, rushing to charles’ awaiting arms.

this all happened in a matter of seconds, but to you, it felt like the clock slowed down, like she was moving in slow motion.

her loud squeals brought you back to reality, you saw charles holding her against his chest, still kneeling on the floor.

“oh, you did so good, violet! that’s my big girl,” charles kissed her temple, “i missed you so much. i was gone for a week, and now you’re walking?” he continued talking to her, you stopped recording, placing your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants, kneeling next to your loves. “i thought she was just starting to stand up?” charles asked, you nodded.

“those were her first steps,” you said, voice a little groggy as you kept your eyes on violet, who was playing with charles’ hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging lightly.

“first steps… first birthday…” charles counted, throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close to him. you leaned your head against his shoulder, and violet stopped what she was doing to look at you two.

she was still standing up, charles had a hand on her back to help her up. she looked back and forth from you two, the smiles on your faces were so wide that your cheeks were starting to hurt.

“da!” she said, dropping down to her bum, crawling away, leaving you both speechless.

“first word?” charles breathed, you frowned.

“is ‘da’ even a word?” you asked, mostly annoyed because it was a word that resembled ‘dad’.

“in baby language, i think it is,” he smiled smugly, you rolled your eyes as you turned to violet, picking her up.

“hey, baby. say ‘ma’,” you instructed, violet stayed quiet, then, she opened her mouth.

“da!” she repeated, you sighed, kissing her cheek before passing her off to charles. “da!” she said as she looked at charles.

“yeah, that’s her first word,” you laughed, admitting defeat.

six months later, you and violet slipped through the crowd of people, sneaking your way to the ferrari motorhome. it was the first race of the season, and you had to admit, you missed being there.

you’d been with charles for what felt like forever at that point, coming close to eight years. you’d met, fallen in love and started dating as teenagers, and you’d been there every step of his career. your relationship was one that the public had always been curious of, given that you were both extremely private and cautious with what you let the rest of the world see. when you stopped attending the races for almost half of the year last year, people had started wondering if you’d split up. but as you walked with violet in your arms, charles’ hand around your shoulders, that was a clear statement.

you were scared of attending a race with violet, but you were a family now, and you needed to support charles, you knew he needed you there. you were going to stay inside the ferrari hospitality the entire time, away from the cameras and public. you were inside charles’ room, playing with violet whilst he got ready.

violet was starting to speak a bit more, so most of your time was spent over-pronouncing easy words in hopes to get her to repeat them. she was a smart girl. after having her first birthday, first steps and first word all in the same day, you knew you had a little genius in your hands.

“the car goes fast,” you said, moving your lips slowly, watching violet’s eyes go from your lips to your eyes. she babbled, you smiled as you kissed her temple, repeating the sentence again. “the car goes fast,”

“hell yes it does,” charles said, walking in. he had his racing suit on, the zipper was down, though, and you could see his fireproof undershirt. he grabbed violet, who played with the velcro strap.

“don’t swear,” you patted his leg, standing from your spot on the couch. “you ready?” you asked, kissing his cheek. violet noticed, and she did the same, making charles laugh.

“i think so,” he nodded, “i’ve got my two girls here, i can do pretty much anything right now,” he pressed his lips against violet’s temple. “but-”

“charles, we need you for something,” there was a knock on the door, and charles sighed. he’d promised to spend as much time as he could with you, even though you’d promised him it was okay, that he still had to focus and prepare for the race, but he had missed having you there and wanted to stay there with you two.

“it’s okay,” you grabbed violet, who frowned, she’d only gotten a few minutes with charles, why was he leaving again so soon? “we’ll be right here,” you smiled, leaning in to kiss charles’ cheek, but he turned his head, meeting your lips with his.

“i will be right back, okay?” you nodded as he hugged you both. he walked out of the room without looking back, despite how much he wanted to stay.

violet whimpered, you looked down at her and chuckled.

“it’s okay, baby, he’ll be right back, okay?” you sat her down on the couch, “da will be right back,”

as it turned out, violet called both you and charles ‘da’. it was the one word she associated with the two of you. much to charles’ dismay.

“oh, love, it’s okay,” you cooed, noticing violet’s teary eyes. “it’s just for a little while, my love.” you grabbed her again, and started walking around the room, gently rocking her in your arms. she wasn’t a loud crier, but her tears were just as real. “oh, violet, don’t cry, you’re making me cry, too!” you chuckled, pulling her close to your chest.

a few minutes passed, you could still feel your shirt getting damp from her tears, when the door behind you was opened.

“what’s wrong?” charles asked, and violet struggled in your arms. you put her down and she ran to charles.

“dada!” you froze, your eyes went wide as you watched charles crouch and catch violet in his arms. “dada,” she repeated, her tiny arms on his neck.

“it’s- it’s okay, violet. i- dada’s here,” he said, letting out a shaky breath as his eyes met yours.

“charles-” you started, feeling your eyes burning.

“dada,” violet started, turning her head back, “mama!” she called for you. you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. you just stood there, with wide, teary eyes, as the child that you’d promised to love and raise as if she were your own, called for you. “mama, mama,”

charles was just as shocked as you were, but he snapped out of it first, walking to you once he noticed that you were still processing it.

“d-did she… did she…” you couldn’t finish your question, but charles was already nodding his head.

“dada. mama.” apparently those two words had become violet’s favorite ones. you let out a laugh, wrapping your hands around charles’ back, with violet stuck between your bodies.

“yes, violet. dada and mama are here.” charles said. you just breathed deeply.

violet didn’t know what was going on around her. she didn’t know why the people wearing red were standing up, clapping and yelling. she didn’t know why you were standing up as well, with your palms pressed together, covering your mouth. she didn’t know why you had tears in your eyes.

“dada won, violet!” she didn’t understand what that meant, but you were smiling, so she smiled as well. you picked her up in your arms, someone handed you a pair of headphones, you placed them on violet’s ears to protect her from the loud noises.

you’d promised to stay inside the ferrari motorhome, but you weren’t counting on charles getting the first win of the season, his first in a while, his first with his family there with him.

you were escorted to the podium ceremony, arriving just in time to see charles stepping out of the car. he jumped out of the car and ran to his crew, you were breathing fast, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, there were tears in your eyes as you watched charles.

“that’s dada,” you told violet, even though she probably couldn’t hear you with all the noise.

you waited a few minutes, for charles to finish getting weighed, before someone talking to him pointed in your direction.

he smiled as he ran to you, wrapping his arms around the two of you.

“that was amazing, my love.” you said, grabbing his face to direct his lips to yours. “i love you so much, you deserve this!” you smiled.

“dada! mama!” violet said, annoyed that you weren’t paying attention to her.

“sorry, violet. dada and mama are here. we love you, too,” charles gave you two one last hug before he had to be taken away for interviews.

violet was sleeping between you two, she was curled up on her side, resting her head on charles’ chest. you couldn’t blame her, that was how you loved to fall asleep, too. you couldn’t sleep, you still had that remaining rush of adrenaline running through your system, which made it hard for you to succumb to sleep. you turned to your side, leaning forward to kiss violet’s cheek softly, then charles’ lips. you left the bed, sliding open the door to the balcony.

you could hear people partying out there. you leaned your arms against the railing, thinking about how, if you didn’t have violet, you would probably be out there with them. but you wouldn’t change your little family for anything.

“what are you doing out here?” you heard charles’ sleepy voice, felt his arm around your waist.

“just thinking,”

“about?” he asked, kissing your shoulder. you smiled, turning your head to the side to look at him.

“how i wouldn’t change this for anything in the world,” you answered, biting your bottom lip. “i love you and i love violet, and i’m so lucky to call you both mine,” he didn’t answer, just turned you around so your back was against the railing, his hands on your waist.

“we should make it all official, then,” he said after a few seconds, you leaned back, tilting your head up to look at him. “marry me,”

“charles leclerc, after almost eight years of dating, this is how you’re proposing to me?” you raise an eyebrow, joking to avoid letting tears take over you.

“no,” he shook his head, a small smile on his face, “you deserve something much better. our child needs to be part of it, for starters,”

“of course,” you laughed. you placed your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

“will you, though?” he asked.

“what?”

“marry me?”

that was a question that you both knew the answer to.

“yes,”

3K notes · View notes

thearchercore · 3 months

Note

I just went to look at the actual temperatures haha. Yes, the afternoon sessions are cooler and more representative of the quali/race conditions. But here's why I think Charles got more of the morning sessions (if there is a reason beyond 'they picked randomly') :

The hotter temperatures means tyre degradation increases, and we know this has been Ferrari's struggle over the past few years.

And since testing is for data gathering, they want the best data possible. They want data on the car as a whole, not just for Bahrain. They have the regular GP practice sessions next week for the GP specific testing.

Charles tends to be much better on the tyres than Carlos is. It's not as useful if Carlos is running fewer laps on a tyre and burning through it when Charles can do longer stints and push the tyre to the max to see how well it handles the deg and heat and provide more data for the team.

Charles would do well in the afternoon sessions, but Ferrari knows that. They gave him the tougher sessions so they can see how well their best driver can get the car to perform in the worser conditions. If Carlos had the morning sessions and the tyres wore out quickly, Ferrari would have to figure out how much of that was the car, and how much of that was Carlos' driving style.

Also, Charles getting the morning session means any crashes or accidents affecting the car running will affect fewer of his sessions because he's going first.

you got it! yeah, overall no reason to panic. for the race, they can always catch up during all the fps

33 notes · View notes

charles-leclerc-official · 3 months

Text

F1 predictions to maximize chaos:

Sainz to Andretti George Russell to Red Bull Perez to Alpine again Logan to Alpine Alex to Mercedes Charles wins spanish gp Fernando to Mclaren(just because) Oscar announced to Alpine again(and it's false again) Oscar gets first win in Bahrain Another sprint race is added Another 5 street tracks in the US are added Alonso villain arc #54867048976 Sebastian seen lurking around Redbull Garage in a Ferrari uniform Liam Lawson takes Dany's spot Visa Cashapp racing bulls change their name to something even dumber mid season A purple car will be seen Vegas adds more manhole covers to the track A lizard causes a red flag Lando breaks 2 more of Max's trophies Max DNF because George intentionally crashes into him(crashgate 2024) Lestappen kiss on the Austria podium, but then they post like nothing happened Lewis wins Austin and refuses to elaborate Alpine civil war claims 5 casualties Oscar oversleeps and misses a race It rains in Qatar Dany races a horse at one point

#formula 1 #2024 f1 predictions #if silly season is gonna be like this I am going to be sillier #this is all a joke do not come for me

19 notes · View notes

marslovescars · 1 month

Note

Yeah... Lewis Hamilton. 7 time champion, guy who slapped Alonso and Vettel around for years doesn't care. Are you brain dead? Why would he tank his reputation before heading to Ferrari. Take your shit out of the tag, we don't want to see it.

Why do I always get the idiots who lack reading comprehension skills and do no research?

I'll explain this very thoroughly.

The purpose of the post was to show people who were saying that Lewis Hamilton sucked as much as Daniel Riccardio were wrong.

Lewis Hamilton does not suck, he is just not trying because why would he? He is over Mercedes and there's a few reasons why:

1) because Mercedes has given him a car that's terrible again!

2) Mercedes has not listened to him when he's give suggestions about improving the car.

3) they only gave him a 1 year contract with the possibility to extend which is not what he wanted.

4) When he asked to be an ambassador for Mercedes when he retires, they said no.

Plus the other instances where they have treated him poorly, even though he's done so much for the team.

If you need more proof go watch any of his post race interviews for the past three races of 2024. If that's not a man that's clocked out and I don't know what is.

And if you want to talk about reputation, when has Lewis cared about his reputation? Lewis is truly a petty king.

Here's Lewis putting on every piece of Jewelry he owns after the Jewelry ban that was clearly targeting him

Here's tweets when Lewis leaked Jenson Button's telemetry because he thought he was being treated better by McLaren when he raced there.

Here's Lewis response tweet from when Lewis crashed with Alonso and Alonso insulted him at the 2022 Belgian GP.

Here's when Lewis wore an LGBT rainbow helmet in Saudi Arabia because he hates how anti LGBT they are. Plus the millions of times he's done so since this.

Here's a video of his 2024 Bahrain GP Post Race Interview, where he's clearly winning the idgaf war

Lewis Hamilton doesn't give a fuck about what they think, they'll hate him anyway. But from what I've seen Lewis is giving Mercedes what they give him. Which is nothing.

He's not "ruining his reputation" being an 8 7x world champion gives him a lot of grace.

Lastly, if you don't like what I have to say, here's an easy fix. Block me. Because if you weren't so cowardly, I would have blocked you by now.

Have the day you deserve you weirdo!

#f1 #formula 1 #Lewis Hamilton #don't talk to me about the lore brother #I'm up to date!#Lewis is a petty king who is giving Mercedes the same energy they give him #a big fat goose egg

13 notes · View notes

nordschleifes · 7 months

Text

chapter four — algo me gusta de ti

➝ after a choice that ends fernando's chances of a better position for the race on sunday, charlie is confronted by the driver. however, the discussion ends in a way she didn't expect.

➝ word count: 5,1k

➝ warnings: fighting (it that a warning at this point?), racing description

➝ author's note: tagging @christianpulisic10, @alonsogirlie and @enaticosencantados as requested.

— Charlie, don't you think we should start our fast laps now?

— No, you can do one more warm-up lap — she replied, her eyes on the clock at the top of the screen. There were just under two minutes left in qualifying for the Miami Grand Prix, long enough for him to take another slow lap before another flying lap to chase after pole position and finish with just under 20 seconds to go. It was an ideal strategy, carefully developed by the strategy team, all to steal Checo's provisional pole position.

One more lap. A few more seconds.

She watched closely as Fernando followed at a slower speed, giving space for Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari to pass him at turn 9 on his flier. Then, as she took her eyes off of the GPS map to look at the broadcast, she felt her heart skip a beat.

The Ferrari was sliding out of control towards the turn 16 barrier, the crash causing those in the pit wall to let out a collective groan.

— Attention, yellow flag, yellow flag at turn six — she said, before sighing as she saw the color change from yellow to red — Red flag, slow down.

Without a response from Fernando, Charlie had to confirm with what the data coming from the car said as he drastically reduced his speed. She knew it was a gamble to release him so late from the pits to do his last laps of Q3. She sighed, knowing that she should have anticipated something happening with the slippery track and Leclerc’s crash during FP2 the day before.

— Nice and slow, keep the delta positive — she said, while staring at Fernando’s name on the timing screen — The session will not be restarted. So, it's a P8 for us today.

— Yeah, we're going to have to stick with that — he muttered. He sounded less than pleased.

Given his latest results, he had every reason to be dissatisfied.

After the fifth place in Bahrain, they left for Saudi Arabia with some optimism. After the debrief, the team found, in all of the data they’d gathered over the weekend, that the car had fulfilled all expectations, and in the right conditions, there was even more performance to be had.

Jeddah was like a dream. In each free practice, Fernando was in the top three, with his lap times being tantalizingly close to the Red Bulls. In qualifying, problems with Verstappen's gearbox and a penalty for Leclerc ensured that Fernando would start from second place during the Grand Prix.

The race had its own frustrations, with Fernando getting a penalty for the car being out of position within its starting box, and another for incorrectly serving the penalty during a pit stop in the race. The team argued their case before the FIA and managed to get the pit stop infringement penalty overturned, meaning Fernando’s third place was restored. Charlie was leaving the paddock when Fernando started a video call with her to tell her the good news. Seeing him smiling and satisfied with the result made something warm fill her chest.

Another podium came in Australia, after a race with two red flags and a collision involving Fernando's car that made Charlie’s stomach lurch as she watched it, but the car ended up being able to continue.

At the end of April, a good weekend in Baku solidified the third place for Fernando in the drivers’ championship along with Aston Martin moving up to second place in the constructors' championship.

But Miami was shaping up to be different. Qualifying in P8 on a track where overtaking after the start would be difficult was not very encouraging, but a solid pit stop strategy involving two long stints on the medium and hard tires would be key for Fernando to get valuable points that Sunday. There was rain in the forecast overnight, which would make starting on soft tires unfeasible because of the high degradation during Saturday’s sessions.

Charlie jotted a few things down in her notebook before she left the pit wall to walk back to the paddock. On the way, she tried to think of how to tell Fernando why she wanted to delay his fast laps and hadn’t considered the possibility of a red flag. Maybe if she told him that Verstappen had to abort his fast lap, too, it may help…

“Like he cares about that”, she thought to herself as she passed her credentials over the badge reader at the paddock’s entrance turnstile. All of the team motorhomes were assembled on the field of Hard Rock Stadium, which made for a unique paddock set up. After passing a group of McLaren mechanics and waving to Lee, an engineer with whom she had worked for a few years, she entered Aston Martin’s hospitality building, heading straight to the second floor, where was the engineering office, the place they gathered for the debriefs.

Ben and Lance were already in the office. It wasn’t surprising given that Lance had been eliminated in Q1. They were discussing the decision not to put new tires on his car, which jeopardized his attempt to gain a higher position on the grid. Charlie sat down across from them and opened her notebook, checking the notes she'd taken during qualifying and trying to ignore the tension building in her shoulders.

When Fernando came in with Dan, Charlie could see his displeasure plainly on his face. She was bracing herself for another explosion, just as it was during the McLaren-Honda days. It was a creeping, sickening deja-vu, waiting for his commentary on her poor strategy decisions and how her plan had been too risky. However, he wasn’t chatting to Dan about any of that. Instead, they were chatting about the relative effectiveness of the AMR23’s DRS.

“This is it. This is the calm before the storm”, Charlie thought, scribbling something in her notebook about factors to consider before suggesting plan B during the race. She did everything she could to avoid catching Fernando’s gaze.

The debrief ended with no outbursts or tantrums from Fernando, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. As she stood up to leave, her thoughts turned to going back to her hotel room, ordering room service for dinner, and maybe watching last year’s Miami GP and taking more notes.

— Charlie? — she turned around to see that Fernando was on his feet, adjusting his green cap on his head. He was still wearing his overalls, but the collar was open and the zipper was pulled down to the middle of his chest.

— Yeah?

— Can we talk?

— Of course — Charlie replied, trying to hide her nervousness — What do you need?

— Come with me — he said, brushing past her and leaving the engineering office. As she followed behind him, Charlie couldn't shake the sickening feeling that she knew what was about to happen, even more so when Fernando opened the door to his drivers’ room and gestured for her to step inside.

She had entered several drivers’ rooms over the years, but this is the first time she had been in Fernando’s since he came over to Aston Martin. The room was one of the simpler, more basic ones she’d seen. There was a small desk with his laptop, a chair, a sofa and a kind of small wardrobe open in the corner, with his backpack and his regular clothes inside. The only thing on the wall was a poster of the AMR23. She was surprised. His drivers’ room when he was in McLaren was a bit more decorated, with the flags of Spain and his home province of Asturias adorning the walls.

When Charlie heard the door close behind her, she felt her shoulders tense. Fernando stepped back around her, pulling his arms out of the sleeves of his overalls so he could take it off.

— Well, what did you want to talk about? — she asked, thinking about how naive she sounded.

— You know what I want to talk about, Charlie — Fernando replied, picking up a bottle of water that was on the table. He leaned back against it as he opened it and took a long drink, all without taking his eyes off of her.

— Is it about your fast lap?

— If you can call that a fast lap — he said, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

— It was a warm-up lap.

— The third in a row, when I could have done a fast lap and improved my time — he said dryly.

Charlie sighed.

— It was a strategy...

— A strategy that didn't work.

— Because of Charles — she answered immediately.

— You should have known he was going to do something wrong, Charlie. He was having problems with the rear of the car, I saw it when he passed me.

— You could have told me that.

— Why didn’t you see it on my onboard? Weren’t you watching it?

Charlie laughed in disbelief.

— Yes, I was looking at the onboard, but I was also looking at the brake telemetry, temperatures, everyone else’s times, engine readings, the status of your car, and talking to you at the same time.

— Well, you should have paid attention to my onboards so you can see what I see.

— I could say the same about many things, Fernando, but I know you're doing several things at the same time...

— But you ask for things anyway — he said.

— Because if I don't ask, your car breaks down and I'm the one who has to listen to you whining.

He snorted, running a hand over his face.

— Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because the weekend is over, Charlie. Your so-called strategy has made it so this entire weekend is just going to be a waste of everyone’s time.

— Do you want me to apologize? — she asked, trying to stay calm — Is that it? You're making this whole speech because you want me to apologize to you?

— No, Charlie. Your apologies are of no use to me now. Your apologies are not going to get me on the podium tomorrow, or even make me score points. Your apologies won't make me a champion again.

— Who ever said you’re going to be a champion again, Fernando? — Charlie muttered. It was reflexive, almost automatic.

Fernando’s eyes shot to hers, his expression going rigid.

— I did. I said it. I'm going to be champion again — he replied — But only if you stop making strategy calls that hinder me instead of helping me.

— The only thing that hinders you, Fernando, is your ego. If you don’t keep it in check, you'll never lift that trophy again at the end of the year in Paris.

His nostrils flared. Charlie had found his Achilles heel. She felt a sense of immense satisfaction. She knew she shouldn’t continue digging deeper, but a voice in the back of her mind pleaded with her to not pass up the opportunity to hit him where it hurt, as justice for the years of misery he’d caused her.

— It's not a matter of ego, Charlie, and you know it. I am the hardest working driver on the entire grid…

— That's what you think, right? I’ve heard every driver say that — she interrupted him, crossing her arms — But you’re not any better than anyone else.

— I'm better than everyone. I’m the most complete driver out of all twenty of us, I…

— Are you? If you're so good, then why did you lose to a rookie in 2007? — she asked. Now that she’d gotten her claws in, it seemed like it would be difficult to stop.

— Everyone knows that asshole Dennis favored Hamilton…

— And then what? When you returned to Renault, why couldn't you beat him then? Why did it take Flavio bribing your teammate into crashing out in Singapore to get you on the podium?

The memory of the 2008 scandal made him visibly clench his teeth. Now, Charlie was just playing dirty, but it was intoxicating. The voice in the back of her head urged her on, to give him a dose of his own poison, to make him feel like she did on that fateful afternoon in Montreal.

— You have to have a lot of audacity to say that you are the best while sharing the grid with Lewis — she continued, taking a step forward to face him — He’s the greatest driver of all time, but not only that, he’s a better teammate than you are. He’s better than you at everything.

— Charlie...

— He's better than you in and out of the car, better in the simulator, better than you personally and professionally. He’s even better than you in bed! — she exclaimed, without thinking. She cursed at herself. She’d gone too far. Her desire to damage Fernando’s ego had gotten ahead of her mouth, and she knew it when she watched Fernando’s expression change from anger to surprise.

— How do you know that? — Fernando asked, the shadow of a smile creeping over his face.

She blinked, transfixed. It wasn't like she actually knew what Lewis was like in bed, after all, she had never had anything more than a professional relationship with him. She’d never had any relationships with any drivers, and it was for a good reason, especially working as a woman in a male-dominated environment.

At the same time, though, she wasn't deaf to the rumors running through the paddock. It wasn’t like Charlie enjoyed gossip, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the whispered conversations the caterers and cleaning staff had during off-peak hours in the motorhome, but admitting that to Fernando would be the end of whatever remained of her credibility.

— You shouldn't talk about things you don’t know anything about, Charlie — he said quietly, in the face of her silence.

— But I do… Know — she replied, trying to hide her nervousness when she realized how close he was to her.

— You mean you fucked him? — Fernando asked. The way he’d asked was clearly a challenge.

— Yes — Charlie lied, trying to keep her voice steady. However, she couldn't help noticing how fast her heart was beating inside her chest, or how her eyes insisted on drifting down to his lips — And he's very good.

— Oh, he is? Tell me more.

She felt her mind freeze for a few seconds.

— I'm not going to talk about this with you.

— Why not? — he asked, smiling.

— Because I don't owe you any explanations about my sex life.

— Considering you're making assumptions about my sex life, I think I have a right to know what you consider good sex.

Charlie felt her cheeks heat up.

— He's good — she just replied.

— Did he make you come? — Fernando asked bluntly. A wave of heat raced over Charlie's skin as soon as the word left his lips.

— Like I said, he's really good, unlike you.

— You never fucked me, so you wouldn’t know whether I'm good or not.

— Well, I don't need to.

— Oh, I think you do, Charlotte.

In that split second, it was as if a video tape had been rewound in her mind. Staring into his eyes, Charlie remembered the first time she'd spoken with him, on a cold January morning eight years ago. The image of him, with a well-tailored gray suit and his dark, combed-back hair, was seared into her mind. She remembered perfectly what she had thought when she saw him enter her sector, a wide smile on his face as he shook her hand as Ron Dennis introduced them.

“Handsome”, she thought. And there, standing inches away from her, with the sleeves of his overalls tied around his hips and his dark green baseball cap over his brown hair, he looked the same way.

Handsome.

Another voice came to the back of her mind, making a not-so-subtle suggestion of what she should do.

So, Charlie did.

Putting her hands on Fernando's face, she pulled his body against hers, their lips colliding in a rough, passionate kiss, completely devoid of any delicacy. The touch ran through her body like an electric shock, sharpening her senses immediately. The faint scent of the cologne he'd put on before heading out on the circuit seemed to have mingled with something Charlie could only classify as his own, delicious and uniquely his.

Her hands slid from his face to the back of his neck, while her lips parted to allow her to taste Fernando. He was sweet and salty and sour all at the same time, as if all facets of him had combined into the lips of the man she was kissing. Her thoughts were an irrational jumble, Charlie realized, but there was nothing rational about the situation.

With her pulse roaring in her ears, she barely noticed when her back hit the wall, much less when Fernando's hands went down her waist towards the skirt she was wearing. Pulling the green fabric up haphazardly, he pressed his fingers into the skin of her ass, pulling Charlie’s hips flush to his. Feeling her nails dig into his skin, she continued that hungry, almost desperate exploration. It was as if one were the air the other needed to breathe, the surface in that sea of unresolved arguments and feelings.

Charlie only realized she was out of breath when she felt Fernando's lips leave hers, trailing down her jaw, nibbling on her skin. He wasn’t touching her like someone with a point to prove, but like someone who had achieved a goal. Someone who had finally gotten what he wanted.

— Did he do this to you, Charlie? — Fernando asked, in a low voice, his hot breath making her skin crawl — Did Lewis kiss you like this?

— No — she replied, sighing as she felt him bite her earlobe.

— Did he touch you like this?

— No — Charlie said, hands sliding through his hair, his Aston Martin cap long since fallen to the floor.

— So he didn't fuck you — he said, as his lips trailed down her neck — He didn’t give you anything close to what you deserve.

— What I deserve — she murmured, reflexively. There was no room for any coherent thought in the rising fever in her mind. There was only one thing that Charlie could see in his dilated pupils, when he lifted his face from the crook of her neck.

Desire.

— A real fuck — Fernando murmured, his lips brushing hers — With someone who knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make you moan, how to make you come. Someone like me, nena.

Charlie stopped suddenly, eyes fixed on his face. Her mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts, guilt mixing with the adrenaline that was coursing through her body. “What have I done?”, she thought, as he brushed his nose lightly against hers, mumbling something she didn't understand.

— Puedo hacerlo todo. Puedo hacer lo que quieras. Sólo dime que sí, nena.

Fernando, the man who had said in more ways than one that he couldn’t stand her, was telling her that he knew how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to make her moan, how to make her come. Of all people, it was him. The man she hated, the man who had almost made her give up on her dream of succeeding in motorsport. The man she had just kissed, because she couldn't resist her own desire to have him for herself, to try those lips and feel his tender touch.

Him. Why him?

Taking her hands to Fernando's shoulders, she pushed him lightly, in a gesture for him to move away. "I couldn't have done that", Charlie repeated mentally, while trying to adjust her green skirt, which was now horribly wrinkled from being hiked up to her hips.

— Charlie? Are you okay? — he asked.

— Leave me alone — she snarled, before quickly storming out of the room, ignoring his protests and slamming the door behind her. A few steps later, Charlie stopped in the middle of the hallway and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her own heart that was beating fast in her chest.

Charlie couldn't understand what had just happened. She couldn't understand how that discussion about winning or not winning the championship turned into sensual whispers about how he would make her come like she deserved, into him biting and kissing her neck.

The idea of having sex with Fernando, even a few weeks ago, sounded like an absurdity. However, at that moment, it no longer seemed like something impossible or ridiculous, but something Charlie actively desired. She wanted to touch him, wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to hear the whisper that would make her moan and see the expression on his face when she achieved his goal.

Putting a hand to her face, Charlie grunted in frustration. “Stop it, Charlotte, stop it, stop it!”, she condemned herself. She couldn't and shouldn't think about that. They hated each other. She hated him. She hated him deeply. Or should.

— Joder! — she heard Fernando yell, followed by a loud, heavy sound, like a fist hitting a table. It was the signal Charlie needed to head back into the engineering office to get her things before heading back to the hotel. She didn’t say anything to anyone, and ignored someone she knew waving to her. She walked through the paddock like a woman on a mission, but her head was elsewhere. All she could think about was what had happened minutes before, how she was filled with Fernando's scent and taste. “I need a shower, urgently”, Charlie thought, as she ordered an Uber on her phone.

If she expected to sleep that night, she was wrong. Anxiety kept her eyes open, glued to the hotel room ceiling. Charlie had thousands of questions in her head. Why had she pulled Fernando against her? Why had she kissed him? Why had she allowed him to touch her? Why didn't she back off? Why had she liked it?

As she was ruminating over the kiss, Charlie saw the sun rise over Miami Beach.

Sunday passed in a blur. She was making such an effort to stay awake and focused on that afternoon's race that she had practically mentally isolated herself from everything around her. Charlie didn't see anything related to the start of the day, not even the much-talked-about entry of the driver at the start of the opening ceremony.

Facing Fernando was the strangest part. They met by chance at the door of the engineering office. Meeting his eyes, Charlie felt her heart jump in her chest, a shiver crawling over her skin.

— Good morning — he murmured, standing in front of her.

— Good morning — she managed to reply, before dodging the driver and heading for the garage.

After a good start by Fernando allowed him to gain some positions, the race no longer had any emotion. In fact, it was so boring that Charlie heard the driver commenting on Lance's overtake that he saw on one of the trackside screens. Lance was fighting for a points place, but Fernando managed to finish third after an otherwise uneventful race. As he crossed the finish line, she felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders.

— Yeah, P3 today. Very good — she said, her voice flat.

— Very good, guys. It was a lonely race, but we can deal with that.

She didn't watch the podium ceremony or even join the group for team photos with the trophy. The debrief was quick and more focused on Lance than Fernando. As soon as the meeting ended, Charlie got up and left the room, not looking back, even as she thought she heard someone call her name.

Back in her hotel room, she laid down on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. It felt like she’d been holding her breath since she’d left the track. Charlie felt suffocated, as if she were drowning in her own doubt and fears.

Whenever she felt like this, she knew there was one person she could turn to.

Charlie picked up her phone and tapped on the name in her contacts list. As she listened to the insistent rings, she made a mental calculation of the time zone and mentally condemned herself. It was well after midnight in the UK, not a good time for a phone call. However, someone must be awake, as, seconds later, she heard a sweet voice on the other end of the line.

— Good evening, my dear — Amanda, her grandmother, said. Charlie could tell from her voice that she was smiling, even if she did sound tired — How are you?

— Hi, grandma, good evening. I'm fine, and you?

— I'm fine too, just a little sleepy.

Guilt surged through Charlie's chest.

— Sorry I called so late, I forgot about the time difference…

— It's okay, my love, I've been waiting for you to call. You know I don't sleep without talking to you first.

She smiled. Her grandmother had been the woman she had always considered as her mother. It was Amanda who smiled along with her in happy moments and dried her tears at the difficult ones. It was Amanda who had taught Charlie to love math, and who encouraged her to apply for the work experience at McLaren while she was in university, even though Charlie thought the chances of her getting the placement seemed slim.

— Your grandfather watched the race today — the grandmother continued — He said that driver of yours did well, despite starting down the grid.

Something in Amanda's words made her lips purse.

— Yeah, he did well today — Charlie just said.

She couldn’t think of anything to fill the silence for a few seconds.

— Honey, did something happen? — her grandmother asked.

— No, grandma, nothing happened — she hastened to say.

— Are you sure?

— Yeah, I'm just tired — she said, trying to sound convincing.

— Charlotte Elaine, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying, and right now, I'm sure you're lying to me. Is something going on?

Charlie let out a long, frustrated sigh. She didn't like discussing personal matters over the phone in the best of cases, and this was not the best of cases. However, her grandmother would never let her hang up the phone without saying what was bothering her.

— Darling, please — Amanda insisted, again.

— It's just — she hesitated for a few seconds — I kissed a guy.

— Oh, really? — the grandmother said. She sounded interested — And was it good?

Charlie felt her heart jump in her chest. She didn't know which word to choose to describe what had happened in that room. It hadn't been a simple make-out session that could happen in any corner of the paddock or in any Miami nightclub, but something different. There was emotion there. There was feeling. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

— It was normal, I guess.

Amanda laughed on the other end of the line.

— Clearly it wasn't normal, considering you’re acting very strangely

— I'm not acting strangely, grandma...

— Speaking hesitantly, carefully — her grandmother continued — Is the boy there with you now? Tell him to take good care of you, huh?

— Grandma — Charlie exclaimed, feeling her cheeks heat up — He's not here with me, in fact, I don't even know where he is right now...

— How do you not know where he is? You didn't go to a party on a work weekend, did you? You know these trips are for work, right, Charlie?

She pressed her hand into her face.

— No, grandma, I didn't go to a party. He only left after the race in his jet, no big deal.

— Jet? He’s rich, then?

Charlie sighed. There was no way out of it.

— Grandma, I kissed Fernando.

— Fernando, which Fernando?

— Alonso.

— The driver?

— Yes.

— Wait, your driver?

— Yes.

Silence reigned on the line for a few seconds.

— And how did that happen? — Amanda asked.

"If only I knew", she thought, sitting up in bed.

— We were in his room in the motorhome, we started talking, and it happened kind of unexpectedly.

Charlie heard her grandmother giggle.

— Well, is he handsome, at least?

— You've seen him on television.

— You know these drivers all look the same to me, the only one that stands out is Lewis, for obvious reasons.

— Okay, grandma — Charlie replied — He's good-looking.

— How good-looking?

— Like, a little taller than me, has a beard and dark hair — she described, trying to ignore the shiver that crept across her skin — His eyes are light brown, with a smudge of green near the pupil. They are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen...

— Got it — Amanda said — And is he a good kisser?

— Grandma! — she exclaimed.

— I just want to know, Charlie! But something tells me he is...

— Please, grandma...

— Come on, tell me. Was it good?

She pressed her lips together, resting her head on her free hand.

— Yes, grandma, he's good. Very good.

— Wow, so it’s serious!

— It wasn't, grandma. It was just a casual thing, nothing major...

— Considering you’re calling me this late, I don’t think it was that casual — Amanda replied, the smile coming to her voice again. She was definitely more excited about it than Charlie.

— Even if I thought it wasn't casual, he probably thinks it was, so it's no use getting your hopes up.

— Are you telling this to me, or to yourself?

— I’m telling you, grandma — she replied, trying to hide her annoyance — By the way, shouldn't you be sleeping?

— Perhaps, but it's much more interesting to hear you recount your adventures around the world. By the way, are you coming home this week? Ron misses you already.

Charlie smiled at the mention of the cat. He always stayed with her grandparents when she was traveling, especially during double and triple headers, when it became impossible to get back to England between races. Fortunately, Ron liked Jamie and Amanda enough to feel comfortable in their home.

— I will, grandma. I leave tomorrow in the middle of the day, but I won’t get back until Tuesday afternoon, if I don't have any delays.

— Is it that long of a flight?

— No, it’s not too long, but I have to get two connections. One in Montreal and another in Frankfurt. Then an hour's drive from Birmingham and I'll finally be home.

— Do you want to have dinner with us, since you're going to have to stop by the house to pick up Ron?

Charlie smiled.

— Ah, that would be excellent, grandma. I miss your food.

— I thought you liked American food — Amanda said, laughing.

— It is, but nothing compares to yours — she replied, making her grandmother laugh. That was one of the best sounds in the world for Charlie.

— I can make that pot pie you like, the one with the beef, with extra potatoes.

The memory of the smell of pies baking in Amanda’s kitchen made Charlie smile fondly.

— I'd love to, grandma — she replied.

— And in return, you can tell me more about this Fernando Alonso, what do you think?

— Are you blackmailing me?

— Just trying to stay informed regarding the state of your relationships, my dear.

She laughed in disbelief.

— It’s not a relationship, grandma, and it never will be.

#fa #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso x oc #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #f1 x oc #nordswrites

51 notes · View notes

effervescentdragon · 1 year

Note

This might be a bit random but after seeing that post with seb's wdc radio, i wonder how many drivers have lewis present on the podium while they had their maiden wins/wdc? How many people had their first victory, a moment they can't ever forget, celebrated by lewis?

Hello friend, you broke my brain with this. Well, not broke, but I didn't wanna do my project writing, so I took this chance to actually do some research and I think I caught them all! :D Here comes a comprehensive list of people who had Lewis Hamilton with them on the podium as they won their first race and/or first wdc!

Nico Rosberg (race 2012/ wdc 2016)

Both his first race win (Chinese GP 2012) and his WDC win (Abu Dhabi GP 2016) had Lewis on the podium. I will not comment on the difference in their relationship, because, well. We all know 😢

Sebastian Vettel (wdc 2010)

Abu Dhabi 2010 my absolute utter ultimate beloved beloved beloved!!! Fave race Fave everything. GOD. JUST. HALLO WELTMEISTER!!! ☀️ both Jense and Lewis cant help but be happy for Seb. I love for it.

Charles Leclerc (race 2019)

HE WINS IN SPA!!! BELOVED!! ❤️️ Do you remember the cooldown room after Bahrain 2019? Do you? I DO. ALL THE TIME. Lewis remains Charles' biggest fan to this day, and I love him for it.

Esteban Ocon (race 2021)

Hungarian GP 2021. Its a little cute I guess. Seb is there! Yay! And Ocon was/is a Merc boy, so I guess it was pretty special for him, to have Lewis there :) and Lewis is always so good with the younger generations, and so supportive.

Max Verstappen (wdc 2021)

Abu Dhabi 2021. I forgot Carlos was on the podium then too. Huh.

Carlos Sainz Jr (race 2022)

Silverstone 2022. I was so upset during this race I left right after Zhou's crash and walked for 2 hours. Touching grass is cool.

George Russell (race 2022)

Interlagos remains the best fucking race out there. Pure joy, every time. Britcedes aka hoecedes on the podium. Adorable.

I love how Lewis was there for technically either 3/4 or 3/5 podiums for younger generation first race wins, depending whether or not you count Max in the younger generation or not (Max's first win was Spain 2016, with Seb and Kimi in Ferrari on the podium, after both Silver Arrows... lets say DNF'd and leave it at that xD). He was absent for Pierre's 2020 Monza win, due to a penalty.

BONUS: Jenson Button, Interlagos 2009, WCD

Jenson won the WDC in Interlagos, coming in fifth, but Lewis technically was on the podium for Jenson's WDC win, so I'm counting it, tongue-in-cheek. :)

Hope you enjoyed this descent into research, I did immensely! <3

#okay im off if you see me here bonk me i gotta do work #akira answers asks #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lovely moots 💕

66 notes · View notes

misspaddockverse · 1 year

Text

Snippet of my WIP x ls18

Lance Stroll x Original Female Character

Tags: slow burn through mutual pinning, he was a punk she did ballet, bad guy x good girl, angst here and there, he fell first and she fell harder, gateway car vibes

Notes: this is just a bit of what I’m been working on, still a very rough draft. Hopefully it’ll be on ao3 soon. Hope you enjoy it!!!

Please forgive any typos, English is not my first language

Lance was a terrible driver.

This was ironic, because at over 300 km/hour, wether under rain or into dark nights, he was pretty reasonable at it, overtaking equally fast cars and getting better at it each year. But on the urban streets and, on top of that, Asian desertic urban streets… he was terrible.

The cars moved painfully low, there were too many traffic lights, and he had to stop and get back going several times, despite not understanding a single word from the street signs and having to blindly rely on that cheap-ass GPS whose voice he grew a deep hate towards in the last 20 minutes.

After many missed entries, many more mistaken roundabouts, and, accidentally, almost hitting two trees and a half, he saw the Sakhir Circuit at the end of the street and let out a relieved breath.

He made a mental note to never again choose hookups on out-of-city hotels before practice Friday instead of the practical, comfortable, and heavenly placed paddock motorhomes.

When he finally made it to the circuit, Lance grinned like an idiot, happy as if he had won a race for having made it there without running over any poor civilian. He had just one more deadly obstacle to overcome: parking.

He had to put his rented Aston Martin safely in one of the stalls, in the middle of other luxury vehicles belonging to drivers and other paddock staff members. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. He decided to do it once and for all before chickening out (and because if he thought too much about it he’d end up calling Rob for help again), so he targeted a free spot and sped right into it.

And, of course, another car would come at the exact same time, to the exact same space, and almost, almost crash into him. Damn it. He hit the brakes out of pure reflex, the other car doing the same just a second later than him, preventing them both from ruining two expensive and beautiful machines.

— What the hell… – he muttered under his breath, blinking, recovering from the shock.

He had sense, so he turned the vehicle off, opened the door, and stood up outside, sliding his sunglasses to his forehead, ready to apologize and receive the jokes about him not being able to park, when he saw who was in the other car’s direction…

— You – the young woman said in an accusatory tone, standing by the opened door of her car with a disappointed look and a fiercely accusatory posture – I should’ve guessed.

Lance had no choice but to bark out a laugh. Unbelievable.

He remembered her: angelic, royalty-like face, definitely had a boob job, British accent, a pain-in-the-ass attitude, etc. Esteban’s girlfriend’s friend or something. Why the hell was she in the staff parking stall? And with a mad-ass bright red Ferrari?

— Good morning, princess – he gestured a lazy greeting with one hand, resting his other elbow over the door – This is starting to get weird. Are you following me?

She seemed genuinely confused, a pout on her pinkish lips.

— Why would I do that?

— I don’t know – he shrugged – Maybe you’re lonely.

A scoff, followed by a humorless smile.

— My boyfriend would disagree. – she shot him a glare as if it intended to shut him off which, honestly, only made him smile wider. That insecure, uh?

— My condolences to the poor guy.

She rolled his eyes, an exasperated face. Under the sun, her golden hair shone just like a barbie in a Hollywood movie. For a second, Lance wondered if she maybe worked in Formula 1 to be there that day. Her classic demeanor maybe fit better as a celebrity guest in the Monaco GP, but Bahrain?

— You almost hit me and you’re insulting me? – she inquired, horrified, British accent thick and annoyingly posh.

— Quite the other way around, princess – he corrected, defensive – You almost hit me.

— What? I was coming slowly and you came out of nowhere at full speed! I had the blinkers on and everything.

— Really? – he deadpanned – Out of us two, who’s most likely to not drive very well?

She gasped and shutted the reaction down a second later, making Lance swallow a laugh. She got on the edge so easily.

— You know what? I’m taking this spot. Go park somewhere else!

He might have dwelled on that if she didn’t look so certain and didn’t get back in the car so quickly, leaving Lance to watch with a bemused expression.

She turned the car back on, and he could see her concentrated expression through the translucid window. Just because she was blocking the way, he waited and watched. Lance propped both forearms on his car’s door and enjoyed the live entertainment, as she went reverse and front about five times before actually placing the car in a good position to enter the parking spot. Then she stopped, opened the window, and asked him:

— Can you move your truck aside a bit? It’s blocking the passage

Jesus. Who let her with a freaking Ferrari Portofino?

— What’s the magic word? — he taunted.

Her shoulders slouched down with frustration.

— For God’s sake! Having you watching me makes me nervous.

He drew a smug grin.

— It’s a GP weekend, everyone is here to watch other people drive.

She put on a scowl as they reached a midpoint, and she was almost trying to park without him moving when another figure approached the empty stall, exasperated and hurried. Lance recognized him as Charles Leclerc's brother, the older one.

— Mate, why are you taking so long? – he called her out, naturally and empathetically, as if having her taking so long to do that was a recurrent activity – We’re all waiting to go the lounge.

— Hm… — she trailed off, suddenly at loss of words, watching as he approached the space between the two of them, noticing Lance.

— Oh, hey mate! – he offered his hand as a greeting, polite – All good?

It took Lance one second too much to react.

— Yeah – Lance greeted him, a bit confused about how familiar and automatically he was addressing… her. He didn’t even know her name. – What’s up?

— All good. See you’ve met Kennedy.

Kennedy. The name replayed in his mind as he nodded.

— Uh. Yeah.

— My sister-in-law. — he offered happily

He had to shut his mouth to prevent his chin from dropping. Sister-in… well. Now it made sense. The Ferrari, the knowing Esteban, the being in the driver's parking stall. Okay. Okay, that made sense.

— You two are having a bit of trouble here, hm? – the older Leclerc looked at her, analyzing the situation

— Kind of – she, Kennedy, looked over to Lance with mischief in her eyes – He is as terrible as I am in this.

— Well, to be fair you and Charles are true birds of a feather when it comes to parking, am I right? But come on, Maman is waiting for you.

As if it was something regular, she got out of the car letting him, her brother-in-law, handle the situation. For a handful of seconds, she stood next to Lance. Waiting. He stayed in silence, his mind running over 300 km/h.

— Not that astute when I’m not alone, aren’t you? – she murmured, with her back turned to him, delicate, pale hands crossed behind her back.

Lance wasn’t sure what pastured him the most: the posh accent in the way she said ‘astute’, the very raw and new challenging tone she displayed out of a sudden, or the way she shook the skirt of her flowered dress carefree and went to follow eldest-Leclerc to the sidewalk so unbothered. Not even giving a chance for him to reply. Suddenly she was in a hurry, then?

— Have a good race! – it was the guy who looked back to say goodbye to him.

#f1blr #f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #f1 fanfic #lance stroll x reader #f1 fic #f1 fic rec #f1 fanfiction #Lance strol x original female character #grumpy x sunshine #ls18 #ao3fic

69 notes · View notes