Clarifying some points about me and what I publish in this blog
About this blog
I write and recommend fics about formula 1 drivers, I reblog some recommendations and others can be found in my "likes" section
I don't have specific days to post, I do it when I'm inspired enough
Request are open, you just have to know that it can take me a long time to write your ideas. If you do so at that risk, please note that I don't write any specific type of smut.
My drivers are SP11, MV1, CL16, CS55, MS47, LN4, OP81, FA14, KR7, LH44, PG10 and, of course, my Toto and Pato from IndyCar
I have no idea how to make a masterlist, so you can go to my blog and in the search bar write "#f1 x reader" to find my stories or you can specify the driver in there.
I'm still discovering some tumblr features so I hope there will be a big improvement between the format of my first stories and the new ones
About me
I don't know how much you might be interested in knowing about me, but I'll say some things
The most basic: My name is Rosa, I'm 20 years old, as I put on my presentation, I'm not a native english speaker in fact I'm from Madrid, Spain.
I study law, tumblr and formula 1 are my main hobbies but I also love watching movies and listening to music (the most common thing in the world, but I had to say it).
I'd love to answer questions and have conversations about my stories and races.
AN:This could have been longer but I don't like my one shots to be too long. so here you go, I hope you like it!
Based of THIS request
Masterlist
The music was so loud it was hard for anyone to talk, but who’s at a club to talk anyway? You have a few drinks in you, not drunk but tipsy. Your best friend had a disastrous date last night and as a way to get her out of the mood she was in, your group of friends decided to hit the club to just have a girl’s night out, but here you are now, a few hours in and your best friends is dancing with some random guy and the rest are all doing their own thing. You for one was on the dance floor having the time of your life, you don’t know how, but in the low light of the club and in between the sweaty bodies of people on the dance floor, your eyes meet a pair of green ones. His eyes are on you and hold his gaze, it’s clear he’s been watching you, and now you’ve seen him you can’t take your eyes off him. So with a smile his way you continue dancing while maintaining eye contact.
The guy moves through the crowd and he’s suddenly right in front of you, it didn’t take any encouragement from either of you to start dancing. His hands were placed on your waist as you moved left to right swaying with the music. One song in, two songs in, three songs in and his hands have wandered to your lower back. Your hands moved from his chest to his shoulders to around his neck, bodies flushed against each other.
“Wanna get out of here?” You whisper in his ear and lean back to his dimples poking as he nods.
“Yeah, my hotel is close.” He says and pulls you away from the dance floor and waits until you grab your clutch and tell your friend at the table where you’re going before you’re out of the club and into a cab. “I’m charles by the way.”
“(y/n).”
Both you and Charles were sober enough for you to remember him but too drunk to think about safety of any kind, but it was a night to remember that’s for sure. And that’s not because of the amazing sex they had, which it was, no but because of the two pink lines she’s staring at.
“What does it say?” Your best friend asks coming into the bathroom, she sees you standing there in shock, looking over your shoulder at the pregnancy test, there it is. Your life is changed forever, from that moment on, your life went from revolving around yourself to revolving around the little human you’re growing inside of you. You knew instantly that you’ll be keeping the baby, no doubt about it.
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“Seriously, how hard is it to find someone in the age of the internet?” Your friend asked, like on the day you all went out, you’re all now gathered again, your friends hand wine while you drank juice/water. All in your PJs with your latest craving all on the table, phones and laptops out. All looking for every possible Charles in your area, and then moving outwards. Looking for your oblivious baby daddy. Yes the clear possibility of him being from a different country is prominent especially since you went back to his hotel room not his house, but for the sake of being hopeful that’s a possibility you’re trying to ignore, for now.
Your friend’s words were proven wrong seeing as all your attempts of finding Charles were hard, you knew absolutely nothing about him besides his first name. You did spend long hours crying, because how foolish are you to go sleep with a random person you know nothing about but his first name, if it was even his real one. But alas, you’re going to have a baby, that you found out is a boy on one of your scans, which you were never alone to, because you best believe one of your friends was there with you.
one thing that came out of this for sure is, how amazing your friend group is, you’ve all grown closer, forming a bond that you knew will withstand time. all your schedules were synced and organised for someone to be always with you, for all your cravings to be met for you to just never feel alone, and the moment you gave up on finding Charles you knew that you’ll be okay and that your baby will be loved.
And he is, now at two months old, he’s the most spoiled kid there is, new clothes every week, new toys always being carried and dotted on. He needed nothing.
You were spending the day at one of your friend’s house that she had with her boyfriend, sitting on the sofa and just lounging around since baby Noah was down for his nap time. you and your friend were gossiping while her friend had his TV on to watch his favourite sport. You really weren’t paying attention, engrossed in the latest gossip happening, but his voice caught your ear, your eyes strayed to the TV for a split second, before you went back for a second look.
“What? what happened?” Your friend asked, confused as she looked at the TV then at you.
“That’s him.” You whisper but she picks it up, she doesn’t have to ask who you’re talking about. at the bottom of the screen Charles Leclerc is written.
“What are you talking about?” Her boyfriend asks, confused.
“That’s Charles.” You say almost breathless.
“Yeah, that’s charles Lec- wait Charles as in your charles, your baby daddy charles?” He puts it together, he really looks at charles.
“Yeah, that’s him.” You want to cry and scream at the same time, you found him, you finally found him, but how in hell are you going to be able to reach him. He's an F1 driver, he;s an athlete.
“I see it.” Your friend says and holds your hand giving it a squeeze. The eyes, the nose, the colour of the hair, they're all things your son and his dad share. no doubt that the older he gets the more he’ll resemble his dad.
“You better assemble the troops, we’ll need all the help to get to charles.” Your friend's boyfriend said and sighs.
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Truer words were never spoken, because why is it so hard to reach a single person on Ferrari’s F1 team? you found out so much about Charles the moment you knew his name, one google search and you found out that he’s from Monaco, found out everything about his family and who his friends are. But you still had no way of reaching him.
So what would any sane person do, is book a trip with your friends and their SOs to Nice where you’ll be staying while venturing into Monaco. Was this the most practicable thing? no. but you all took time off from your jobs/school scraped all your money together and enter; mission: find Charles Leclerc. supposedly now is the start of the month-long summer break, so he was in Monaco spending some time with his family.
You had fun the first two days, visiting all the new places, Noah was having fun, you took all the cute pictures while venturing around Monaco and Nice. Every single person in your group had a picture of you on the night at the club and another of Noah to confront Charles and tell him if they somehow stumbled upon him or any of his family members.
On the third day your friend group split up, you and your best friend were going to a salon where it’s supposedly managed/owned by Charles’ mother, so you found it on the internet. To keep appearances and spend a bit more time there your friend was getting a trim and her hair done.
You sat with Noah in your lap on a sofa near where your friend was getting her hair done. Noah was babbling and talking all sorts of nonsense, at six months he’s starting to sit up with little help, so he’s having the time of his life with this new point of view.
“How old is he?” an accented voice asks, you look up from Noah to meet the woman you were looking for.
“Uh- he’s - he’s six months.” You tell her glancing at your friend, who gives you a discreet thumbs up. This is in fact Pascale.
“He’s super cute.” She tells you and looks at Noah who is now fascinated with her. Being a baby that is constantly surrounded with so many people has made him a social baby, he’s always happy to meet new people.
“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath as you think of ways to bring up that he’s in fact her grandson.
“Are you on vacation here?” Pascale asks warmly, you find her a very loving person, her dimples are ones your son shares, it takes everything in you not to tear up. Finally, you’re just one tiny step away from Charles.
“Not really… it’s a little complicated.” You tell the older woman, she looks intrigued. To Pascale she doesn’t know why, she can’t really place it, but your son reminds her of something, of someone and it’s on the tip of her tongue it’s so close. “My son’s dad doesn’t know about him, we had… we had a one night stand.” You don’t see any judgement in her eyes, which gives you comfort to continue. “And I just found out that he lives in Monaco, and my friends and I are trying to find him, a bit silly but I feel like he deserves to know.”
“Not silly at all, that’s really admirable of you to come to Monaco to look for him.” Pascals gives you a comforting smile and once again she asks you a question that saves you from asking you about Charles. “Do you know the dad’s name?”
“Yeah, it’s Charles.” It clicked, who your son reminds her of, how she wasn’t able to see it will remain a mystery for her. Her second son. Charles, no doubt in her mind that sitting on your lap is her grandson.
“I-I think we should go somewhere more private.” Pascale says and she’s unable to look away from Noah, her first grandson. grandchild period.
“Yes, please.”
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Pascale took you, your best friend ,Sohpia, and Noah(ofc) to her house, she called Charles and told him to come over. So here you are in your son’s grandma’s house looking at all those baby pictures of Charles and his brothers, and you just can’t get over how much Noah looks like him. Pascale and Sophia were playing with Noah while you were having a moment in the bathroom, in desperate need to hype yourself up and to calm your nerves. yes you wanted Charles to know but all the fears of rejection of this all being for nothing came crashing hard on you, so many women were forced into being single mothers and you don’t know Charles, Pascale did say that she wants to a part of Noah’s life but it could all change when Charles finds out. it didn’t take long for the front door to open, and a very familiar voice called.
“maman, je suis là.”(mum, I’m here.) all eyes in the room snapped up to the figure that just rounded the corner into the living room. Charles stopped in his tracks, he saw an unfamiliar woman and a baby with his mother all sitting on the floor, he frowned a little before giving a polite smile. “Bonjour, je ne savais pas que nous avions de la compagnie.” (Hello, I didn’t know we had company)
“English Charles.” Pascale informed her son.
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t know maman had company.” He told Sophia and she understood now why you went with him that night, he seemed so kind and had this calming and trusting aura about him.
“It’s okay, this wasn’t planned.” Sophia said with a timid smile.
“Why did you call me, maman?” Charles turned to his mother confused, just then Noah started babbling away, he barely started to learn how to crawl but everyone could see that he was trying to reach someone, Charles turned to see where the baby wanted to go and he saw you. It did take him a second, he knew you from somewhere, but it came to him, that night at the club. his confusion reached a new high, what are you doing here? How do you know his mother? Why are you here?
You passed Charles and went to the baby scooping him up in your arms, in practised moves, like it was second nature. Charles took a look at you and Noah, your eyes met his and you gave him a nervous smile.
“Sophia, could you help me with the tea?”
“Certainly.”
That left the three of you together, mother, father, and son.
“Hi.” You said timidly. “I don’t know if you remember but we met last year-“
“Yeah, yeah I remember.” Charles cuts you off, you nod and take a deep breath.
“Look, I don't know how to say this but…” You fidget staying silent for a moment before you regain your courage to tell him. “I got pregnant after that night, and I tried to find out who you are and where to find you, but it was hard.” Charles says nothing, his eyes are on the boy in your arms, he takes him in, the eyes, the nose, the hair, the dimples, everything. “I know it’s hard to take in, and I can understand if you don’t believe me, but-“
“I believe you.” Charles breathed out, like his mum he knows this is his son, he took almost nothing from you and is all Charles. “can I- can I hold him.”
“Yeah.” You breathed out as Charles moved closer gaining his son’s attention, Noah went right to Charles, who held him securely and just smiled at the baby, both father and son were looking at each other intently. “What’s his name?”
“Noah.”
“Noah.” Charles tried out the name before he smiled, it was all a shock, he has a son, he has a son, he’s a father now, a father, his mind tried to compute this new information as fast as it could, but his heart, his heart fully accepted it, a new type of love that is completely foreign to him started to form and take shape. You let Charles have this moment in silence watching them, Noah placed his hands on Charles’ cheeks feeling his stubble and being fascinated with him, charles smiled making Noah smile and then giggle. This just warmed your heart and every single thought that ever doubted coming here went away.
“Do you want me to take him? I’m guessing there’s a lot of talking that you need to do?” Sophia came in after a few minutes and you gave her a thankful and grateful look. Once you were left alone, Charles turned to focus on you. You don’t know why you got so emotional but you did, you were wiping your sweaty hand on your trousers all while fighting your tears away.
Being the kind and loving soul that he is, Charles couldn’t fight pulling you in for a hug. your arms wrapped around him, a few tears slipped from your eyes but you managed to stop the rest.
“It must’ve been hard to do this alone.” Charles said, running his hand up and down your back in a comforting motion.
“It was hard, but I had my friends with me.” You said and pulled back,wiping your tears away, you gave him a teary smile before you both sat down next to each other angled so you’re facing the other, knees barely touching. “Finding you however is somewhat harder, all I knew was your name, and I never realised how many Charleses are out there.”
You went on to tell Charles about when you found out you were pregnant, a short summary of your pregnancy, how your friends helped you during and after the berth of Noah, how you found who he was and what you did to reach him and all that. Charles listened and asked questions, he wanted to know everything, as much as this was all a shock you’ve had it harder, you lived it, you’ve been living not knowing if your son will ever know his dad or not, not knowing what the future will hold and not knowing is so much harder than anything.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
You extend your stay in Monaco, even after your friends all went back you stayed, this is Charles’ summer break after all. He cancelled all his plans out of Monaco, and practically turned one of the guest rooms in his apartment into a nursery. You moved from your hotel in Nice to one of the rooms in his house. You did meet the rest of the Leclerc family and safe to say Noah has some amazing and loving uncles.
Noah is just the centre of attention in every room he’s in, he’s taken to Charles so fast, you’re sure he somehow knows that this is his dad. He'd sleep in his arms on his chest and just lean away from you while you’re holding him to get into his dad’s. Noah had so many ferrari and cars themed toys and clothes in the span of a couple weeks it was hilarious.
On a serious note, Charles wants to be a part of Noah’s life and you want him to be too, and one of the things you agreed on and came to is that finding a job in Monaco is the best plan at the moment and just moving there. With the help of Charles you were able to find a job, you knew that Noah will forever be taken care of by Charles, but you had to find a job for yourself, even if you and Charles are now a couple, I mean did you see him with Noah? Did you see him, period? It’s no secret you’re attracted to him. Noah is a big testament to that, but it wasn’t just his looks, once you got to know Charles you couldn’t help but like him a bit more everyday. So when he asked you to just stay in his apartment you couldn’t say no. He's out of the country a lot anyways so most of the time the apartment was for yourself and Noah with the constant visits from and to the rest of the Leclercs.
Summary: F1 can be dangerous but Charles has access to the best medicine around — the blood flowing through your veins
Warnings: mentions of crash, life threatening injuries, blood exchanges, and supernatural elements
The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline hangs thick in the air as you make your way through the pits at Circuit of The Americas, sticking to the shadows. Your heels click sharply against the concrete, echoing off the walls of the garage stalls. Mechanics and engineers bustle around you but you pay them no mind. Your focus is singular: the medical center at the end of the row.
You quicken your pace. Word came over the radio ten minutes ago that there had been a massive crash on the starting grid. Multiple cars were involved but the only name that matters to you was uttered by the commentators: Charles Leclerc. Your boyfriend and — as only a handful know — your blood donor.
You round the corner to see a crowd gathered outside the medical bay. Reporters, team personnel, fellow drivers ... their voices blur together in a din of worry and speculation. You halt, wavering. Even with your heightened senses, you can’t make out Charles’ condition through the closed door. But you take the absence of ambulances or helicopters as a good sign.
If only you knew.
Taking an unnecessary breath, you steel yourself and stride forward, careful to avoid any remaining rays of sunlight. The sea of people parts for you instinctively. Your striking presence and unearthly beauty tend to have that effect on humans.
You nod briefly at Fred Vasseur. His grim face tells you all you need to know. Charles is hurt, badly. Without breaking stride, you push through the doors into the medical center.
The smell hits you first — that thick, metallic tang you know better than any other. Human blood. And lots of it. Your fangs tingle in your gums but you force down the rising urge. Now is not the time to feed.
There he is, your love, looking frail and broken on the examination table. Chief Medical Officer Dr. Ian Roberts flits around him, assisted by the Ferrari doctor and various nurses. Charles is still in his fireproofs, the fabric ripped open to reveal ugly lacerations across his side and shoulder. Dark blood oozes from the wounds, dripping onto the floor.
Your chest clenches at the sight. Not because of the blood — you’ve seen oceans of it spilled in your thousand year existence. No, it’s the man himself who inspires this surge of emotion. Vulnerable. Mortal. Everything you can never be.
Dr. Roberts glances up, noticing you for the first time. “Y/N, you shouldn’t be in here.”
You fix him with your cool grey stare. “I’m staying.” Your voice brokers no argument.
Charles’ eyes flutter open at the sound. They find you and his bloody lips turn up in a ghost of a smile. “Y/N,” he breathes. “You came.”
You rush to him, clasping his undamaged hand in both of yours. “Of course I came.”
He winces as the doctors continue assessing his injuries, prodding the ragged gashes in his flesh. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
You brush an errant lock of dark hair back from his forehead. “Nothing I can’t fix.”
Charles’ green eyes search your face as understanding dawns behind the pain. “But the others …”
You glance at the medical team swarming around you. Yes, an audience does complicate things. But the sun is descending toward the horizon and you’re out of time.
You turn back to Charles with an encouraging smile. “Just focus on me, love. We’ll handle the rest later.”
Dr. Roberts looks up from examining Charles’ shoulder. “Y/N, you really can’t be in here while we’re working.” His tone leaves no room for debate this time.
With great effort, you unclench your jaw and nod tightly. As you back away, Charles squeezes your hand, smearing it with blood. “Wait for me?” The quiet hope in his voice shreds at your unbeating heart.
“Always.” The promise fills the space between you, unbreakable as iron. You relinquish his hand and let the medical team usher you outside.
Alone in the hallway, you stare down at your crimson-stained fingers. Charles’ mortality has never felt more acute, the creeping grasp of time more cruel. What if this is the end? What if his fragile human body cannot endure? You close your eyes at the thought, blood roaring in your ears.
No. You won’t let him slip away so easily.
A commotion from the waiting area draws your attention. You turn to see Carlos bursting through the doors toward you.
“Y/N!” Worry creases the handsome Spaniard’s brow. “How is Charles? Have you seen him?”
You fold your hands tightly, hiding the blood. “He’s … holding on.”
Carlos drags a hand through his dark curls. “Madre de Dios, this is a disaster.” His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by somber concern. “First the crash, now Charles. Ferrari will be lucky to finish the season at this rate.”
You stare down at your stiletto heels. “He’ll pull through. He has to.”
Carlos grips your shoulder. “You really care for him, don’t you?” When you remain silent, he sighs. “Just stay strong, Y/N. I know he loves you.”
You glance up, managing a faint smile. “Thank you. Now go check on the team. I’ll keep you updated on Charles’ condition.”
With a supportive squeeze of your shoulder, he takes his leave. You watch him disappear around the corner, guilt gnawing at you. Sweet, trusting Carlos. Will he still look at you the same when your secret comes to light?
Shaking off the thought, you begin to pace the hallway, contemplative. The sun creeps lower in the sky, shadows stretching long around you. A plan takes shape in your mind — dangerous but necessary. Charles’ life hangs in the balance. For him, you’re willing to take the risk.
Ten endless minutes pass before the medical room doors open. You whirl around expectantly as a somber Dr. Roberts approaches. Charles’ blood stains his scrubs.
“How is he?” You hated the desperation in your voice.
Roberts removes his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Stable for now but he’s lost a lot of blood. The lacerations are severe. He’ll need immediate surgery and transfusions if—”
“No,” you interject firmly. “No transfusions.”
Roberts frowns. “With trauma this serious, blood loss is a major concern. Transfusions are critical.”
You cross your arms. Ancient. Commanding. “Trust me, doctor. Charles does not take well to foreign blood.”
“Well, I can’t recommend discharging him with—”
“That won’t be necessary,” you cut in. “As his medical proxy, I’m checking him out of your care.”
Roberts’ eyes widen. “Now see here, he is in no state to be moved!”
You step forward, “You’ve done well, doctor, but Charles is my responsibility now.” Your hypnotic gaze bores into his. “You will bring me the discharge forms.”
Roberts’ expression goes blank. “I’ll … bring the forms.” He shuffles back through the medical center doors in a daze.
You allow yourself a small, fierce smile. The sun has nearly set — perfect timing. By the time they realize Charles is missing, you will be long gone.
Moments later, Roberts returns with a clipboard in hand. You fill out the forms in graceful script before stepping into the medical bay. Charles looks up at you, weak but still conscious.
You stroke his hair tenderly. “Ready to get out of here, love?”
He manages a small nod. Moving on instinct, you slide one arm under his knees, the other behind his back. And, with supernatural ease, you lift him into your arms.
Charles inhales sharply in surprise then melts against your chest. “My savior,” he murmurs into your hair.
Warmth blooms inside you, even as his blood calls to your basic instincts. “Hush now. Rest.”
Cradling your precious cargo, you sweep past the entranced Dr. Roberts and out of the medical center. Night has fallen fully, the paddock empty and still. Otherworldly strength carries you swiftly through the shadows toward a rarely used side gate. The usual security guards are conspicuously absent, courtesy of your timely compulsion.
In moments, you’ve slipped through the gate unnoticed, Charles secure in your arms. The parking lot is deserted, only rows of team trucks left behind after the end of the race. You load Charles carefully into the passenger seat of your silver Ferrari and speed away into the night.
“Where are we going?” Charles’ voice is weak but surprisingly calm, full of trust, given the situation.
“Somewhere safe.” You take his hand, weaving your fingers together. “Just rest. You’re going to need your strength.”
He relinquishes with a small nod, eyes drifting shut as his head leans against the window. You look at him as you drive, marveling again at his beauty. Such courage, passion, and grace rest in the man beside you. Traits that first drew you to him, despite the unwise risk of attachment. And now, you cannot imagine eternity without him.
You arrive at the discreet safe house you keep outside the city. Tucked into the rolling hills, the modern glass and steel home blends anonymously into nature. You designed it as an escape from the chaos of undying life, never imagining that you would be spiriting an injured driver into its pristine rooms. But now, its seclusion suits your purposes perfectly.
Scooping Charles gently into your arms, you carry him inside and down the hall to the master bedroom. You lay him atop cool grey sheets, bare save for his underwear. His dressings will need to be removed and the blood wiped off his abdomen but first things first.
“Charles,” you call softly, rousing him. “I need to you drink.”
He blinks up at you. “Drink?” Understanding slowly dawns. “Your blood. For healing.”
You nod, already rolling up your sleeve. “My blood will knit your wounds closed and replace what you have lost. But it can only work if you drink freely.” You bring your wrist to his lips. “Can you do that for me?”
His mouth finds your skin, warm and pliant. You use a fang to pierce your own flesh, blood welling up from the wound. Charles’ eyes flare at the sight, rich and red against your skin. Then his tongue is on you, lapping urgently at the flow.
You sigh, equal parts relief and pleasure. “That’s it, my love. Drink.”
He sucks strongly, mouth sealing over the gash. Rivulets of blood streak down his chin as he draws deep from your veins. You caress his hair, letting him take his fill. An intimate act that binds you closer with each swallow. This is no longer just about hunger or healing — it is a blood rite between two lovers, the ultimate consummation.
When Charles finally falls back, eyelids fluttering, you retract your wrist to close the wound. “How do you feel?”
He touches tentative fingers to where the gashes ran across his torso. They’ve knitted together into unblemished skin, fading before his eyes. “Good as new,” he breathes in wonder. “Except ...” Strong hands grasp your arms suddenly, pulling you down to him. “I still thirst for you, Y/N.”
His kiss ignites you, fierce and hungry. You let him roll you beneath him, mindful of his lingering tenderness. Even injured, his passion could rival that of the ancient vampires you once kept company with. When he draws back for air, you caress his face with reverence.
“There’s something you should know.” You take an unnecessary breath. “Healing you this way ... it forges a blood-bond between us. You now carry my essence inside you.”
He smiles, bright and brilliant enough to rival the sun you can never stand under again. “Good. I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me.”
Emotion swells within you and you almost think your unbeating heart might beat once more. This radiant mortal loves you, knows your bloody truth and chooses you still. It is a gift beyond measure, one you will safeguard with all you have.
You draw him into a fervid kiss, pouring every ounce of the soul you don’t know if you still have into it. When you finally pull back, the words spill from your lips unbidden: “Be mine forever. Let me make you what I am.”
Shock flickers across his face. He had never asked and you had never offered … until now. To take a human lover as vampire progeny is no small thing. But you know with sudden clarity that your fates irrevocably are entwined.
Charles takes your face between his hands “Yes.” His heartbeat thrums steadily. “I’m ready.”
Hope and desire surge inside you in equal measure. But first ...
“Not tonight.” You press a kiss to his wrist, feeling life pulse strong. “First you recover. And then we talk to Ferrari and the FIA. Explain things to your family. Make preparations.”
He shudders as you trail kisses down his arm. “You’ll stay with me?”
Your smile bares the hint of fangs. “Try and tear me away.”
Charles grins, boyish again despite the trails of the day. Then his expression shifts, eyes burning with wicked promise. “Maybe just one more taste for the road to recovery?”
You laugh in delight. “Anything for you, my love.”
And as your blood mingles again, you silently vow to never let this bright-burning mortal flame be extinguished. To never grow apathetic as so many did before you. Not when eternity together has only just begun.
A scare pushes your family even closer and, fortunately, it all turns well
Note: english is not my first language. I've had these requests in my inbox for a really long time, and I've debated on if and how I should write them, because it is a sensitive topic that I feel huge respect about and I hope I have written it in a respectful way. In a way, this is based in stories I've heard, so I hope it is a good depiction as I'm not a doctor nor someone who has experienced this.
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: depicts a potential pregnancy loss for the reader (mentions pain, cramping, anxiety, blood, hospitals)
"Do you have his bag, Charles?", you asked your husband, looking around Hervé's room for his cardigan, "yes, I have it here!", he said back to you from the kitchen. Charles had a full afternoon with meetings and you happened to be needed presently at your office just the day that Hervé's pre-school had an unexpected problem with the electricity and that they wouldn't be able to keep the kids for today. Luckily, Pascale had the day off from her salon, so it was only a couple of minutes of you and Charles running around like headless chickens before you realised the small issue had a solution.
"Ready to go to grand-mère, my love?", you called for your son, helping him put the soft piece on before he grabbed his backpack, "have a good day, buddy! Give grand-mère a big kiss for me, okay?", Charles noted, kissing the top of his son's head and getting up to face you, "and you too, amour, have a good day", he kisser your lips.
Grabbing your bag and Hervé's hand, you saw Charles bend down to face your bump, "and you, little one, I hope you have a good day too, no messing around, okay?", he gently caressed your small baby bump. To anyone else, you probably looked bloated, but Charles couldn't help himself anytime he was near you. After all, you were once again making one of his dreams come true and he wanted to love on you as much as he could, especially when this time around, morning sickness was more of an all day thing.
"Have a good day too, handsome. I'll see you later!", you headed out of the door first, helping your son into his car seat before safely strapping him in and getting on the driver's seat.
Arriving at Pascale's, you knocked on her door and she quickly answered it, "hello, mon petit! Are we going to have a big adventure today?", she laughed at her grandson's excitement upon seeing her, "again, thank you so much, Pascale, you're our saviour", you thanked, kissing her cheek as you bid them goodbye, "be good for grand-mère, okay my love?", you ruffled Hervé's hair, kissing his forehead and helping him inside, "Can we bake a cake?", he asked his grandmother, "That's a lovely idea! To the kitchen we go! Have a good day, chérie!", she yelled, closing the door quickly with one hand as her other hand was being pulled to the kitchen.
The workload for the day wasn't a lot compared to most days, and the morning meetings had been quite okay, and for what felt like after a really long time, you had been able to keep your food down despite the cramps you felt. After all, food barely got that far on your system, so much so that your body was unsure of what to do.
The afternoon meeting was going at a slower pace because the matters in discussion required it, "but I think this would be better for all the patients that work until five. I won't the the one for all of those appointments, and maybe I can't assure the ones until eight or nine o'clock at night, but I know Emilia prefers the later hours", you turned to her, "yes, for me personally it's easier if I get here later and leave later, my daughter's school is flexible, and my wife can pick her up", she reasoned, "so, like this, we can get to more people", one of your other colleagues smiled, writing down the ideas so you could close another topic.
You adjusted your position on the chair, hoping to find one more comfortable when you felt something on your underwear, "did you just pee yourself, Y/N?", you mumbled to yourself, excusing yourself from the meeting so you could go to the bathroom.
Reaching the stall, you untucked your shirt from your pants and pulled them down, underwear included to see a red stain. That was not good, you thought, seeing that it wasn't some small skin knick from the elasticated fabric.
Trying to stay as calm as you could, you called for Emilia, "what's up? Do you need me to unfasten your bra again? I told you your boobs grew at least two cup size- oh", she stopped as soon as she saw your trembling lip, "what's wrong?", she wondered, "I'm bleeding, it's not a lot, but I don't think this is the spotting they say. Can you take me to the hospital, please?", you murmured, accepting her hand as she helped you out of the bathroom.
"You guys carry on with the meeting, okay? I need to take Y/N to the hospital to get checked out", Emilia announced to the room, receiving a million and one questions, "let us know if you need enything, okay?", Nora, one of your older colleagues said. Unlike the most of the team, Nora was already a grandmother and almost like a mother to everyone who worked with you, and she had been the one to tell you to take a pregnancy test, and now, to catch on what was happening, "Y/N", she called for you, seeing your scared face, "everything is going to be alright, yes? You're one of the strongest women I've ever met. I know its difficult, but try not to think the worst, okay. We love you and we are here for you", she smiled reassuringly, kissing your forehead.
Seeing Emilia leave the meeting room with your phone and wallet, "I have your documentation and your phone here, let's go", she calmly said, not wanting to add to the turmoil of emotions you were already feeling.
"I'll ruin your seats", you thought out loud once you got to her car, "here! Let me put this down", Emilia thought fast, grabbing what looked like her daughter's towell, "Laura said that she doesn't like it anyway", she tried to get your mind off and distract you as you sat down and she started driving, "claims it's not sparkly enough and it doesn't match her personality. Can you believe that? A towell doesn't match the personality of a five year old!", she smiled apologetically, "are you in pain?", she questioned, "just cramps, but very small ones, they're barely there if I don't pay attention honestly", you breathed out, "it's two minutes to the hospital", she checked.
Arriving at the hospital, the emergency room was packed and you looked around in a fret, knowing that it would be a while for someone to get to you. Emilia saw someone in scrubs and that was enough for her, "sorry, excuse us, doctor! My friend here is bleeding", she yelled through the room, hoping to catch his attention, "I feel it down my pants", you gulped as the effort you had been putting on not crying long gone as tears fell on your cheeks, "I'm a nurse, let me", he encouraged you as he bent down to carry you, placing one arm under your knees and one around your back as he walked as quickly as he could into the corridor, "pregnant woman, early thirties, bleeding in what could be a potential miscarriage!", he yelled, grabbing the attention of some of his colleagues as they took a good look at your situation, one of them grabbing a wheel chair and approaching you, "Hi, we are going to take care of you two, okay? I just need your ID", she soflty said as Emilia handed it to her, "now let's go and see what is happening here", the male nurse wheeled you to the room where they kept the emergency ultrasound, "there's a lot of blood", you mentioned, not enjoying the silence despite the rush around you, "Hi, Y/N, let's see, okay? Yu know this could be a-", the doctor who had just arrived began, "A miscarriage, I know, I- I can feel that I'm bleeding a lot", you whispered, "I'm going to examine you now", she informed, working up the machine and looking at the screen, "Oh, here they are", she pointed to the screen, urging one of the nurses to use the cardiac monitor so you could hear the baby's heartbeat, "this is your baby's heartbeat, Y/N. Your baby is here", she showed you. And it triggered you to cry a little bit more, looking at Emilia as she squeezed your hand.
"Still,", the doctor noted, cleaning up the device before she made room so the nurses would help with the rest, "this could mean two things: you could've had a placental abruption, and they tend to solve on their own with bed rest, but it could also be the start of a miscarriage. Medically, we can't tell them apart until it happens, there's no medication we can give you that can help, so I'd like to keep you for observation", she stated, earning your nod as you felt the nurses help you into a clean wheelchair, ready to take you up to a room.
After cleaning and freshening up as you could, you looked at the clock and gathered that it was time to call Charles, "I've texted the team to let them know how you were doing already", Emilia said as she handed you your phone, "thanks", you mumbled, taking a deep breath before hitting the call icon so you could speak to your husband, knowing his meeting was finished by now, "Hello, amour. I was just about to call you and ask if you wanted me to pick up Hervé", your husband said on the other end of the line, "Hi, actually, you might want to put that off. When I was at work, I noticed I was bleeding in my underwear, so Emilia took me to the hospital and they're keeping me for observation. But I heard the baby's heartbeat", you said all in one go, "are you feeling good?", you heard the strained tone of Charles' voice, "yes, but, I want you here", you gulped, "I'm on my way, mon amour. I love you, okay? I'll be there in a bit", Charles said before he dialed off the call.
"I'll be here until Charles gets here", Emilia pointed as she felt you were about to brush off the whole situation and tell her to go home, "besides, Laura would probably tell me that her backpack doesn't match her personality and, quite frankly, the day is not calling for it", she attempted to make you smile, smiling too when the corners of your lips lifted a little.
You must've have fallen asleep because you woke up with Charles' lips kissing your forehead, "hey", he called gently, "I'm already going, Y/N. I hope everything works out well", Emilia smiled as she blew you kiss, closing the door behind her.
Charles pulled the chair as close to your bed as possible, sitting down and holding your hand in his, "hi", you murmured, unsure of how to begin the conversation, "I'm glad you're here".
Your husband was quick however, "of course, my love. I texted my mum and she said she doesn't mind having Hervé spend a few days with her", he began, "and how are you feeling? What happened?", he asked gently.
You were explaining what happened, from the moment you left the meeting until the doctor examined when you heard a knock on the door, the nurse and doctor that had checked you in asking if they could check on you.
"This is Charles, my husband", you introduced, seeing him shake their hands, "thank you so much for what you've done while I wasn't here", he thanked them, waiting for them to continue and explain what had happened to you so he too could hear it.
"So now we just wait?", he questioned, "yes, unfortunately we don't have any other way to deal with this situation other than bed rest", she explained, "from the scans we did earlier, it seems like it's not a big situation, but I understand your worries and doubts. This is a worrisome situation, but we are doing everything we can to make sure your baby stays safe in your uterus", she smiled, looking at the CTG machine, "your baby looks comfortable, and their heartbeat is good, very strong", she allowed you to hear the sound, knowing it usually calms the parents a little bit to hear the noise, "the bleeding seems to have stopped to", the nurse conforted, too.
Your doctor was paged for an emergency, leaving you with the nurse that had initially helped you, "I wanted to thank you for what you did to my wife, I really appreciate it", Charles said, "my wife and I also had a scare like this, so I know how it is to be on the other side. Now we have a three year old boy that resembles a storm everywhere he goes. Just take this one step at a time. By the looks of it, you should be going home tomorrow", he said, "I'm sure it will be a little better to be at home rather than here", he excused himself.
.
After one last check-up, your doctor didn't see the need to keep you at the hospital since things were looking up, prescribing you bed rest for the foreseeable weeks.
"Here, amour, are you comfortable like this?", he asked, arranging the pillows on the sofa, "I am, thank you", you whispered, kissing his cheek when he sat next to you, "one step at a time, okay?", you reassured, "is your mother still bringing Hervé? Or do you need to go and pick him up?", you wondered.
"Mum texted me saying she would leave in a few minutes, so any minute now", he smiled, "I've sent an email to the team, and now that there's a break, they need me a little less so hopefully I'm home more often than I am not", Charles explained, hearing a knock on the door, "must be them".
Hervé was quick to run to greet you on the sofa, "Grand-mère said you were not feeling good, mama. Can I give you a kiss?", he asked, bring weary of approaching you, "it's okay, mon ange, I'm okay. You can sit here next to me", you smiled, opening your arms so he could cuddle your side, "I told him he needed to be careful now and that he should be even more well behaved now so he could help mama get better and help papa, too", Pascale added, approaching you and kissing your forehead lovingly, "all will be well, chérie", she whispered, leaving you three.
"Mama, I made you a drawing", Hervé announced, grabbing the sheet of paper from his backpack and showing it, "it's a sun, some clouds and a rainbow. Because even when it rains, sometimes you see a rainbow", he announced happily, "That's right, my love", you cheered, feeling Charles sit next to you on the sofa, "I have you boys with me, there is no rain that is going to bring any harm", you expressed your gratitude, feeling Charles embrace you both while Hervé picked out a movie for you to watch.
.
Hervé walked hand in hand with his gradmother after she picked him up from pre-school, "I'm going to see my mama and my sister," he announced to anyone that they crossed on the hospital corridor, his big brother badge earning many smiles and compliments on the labour ward, "mama and papa are in that room there, but do you remember what I told you, mon petit?", Pascalr asked softly, earning a nod, "mama needs to rest, and I have to be careful with her tummy because that is where Amélie came from", he said, "And your voice?", she smiled, "quiet voice", he nodded before she knocked on the door, Charles coming to open it and greet his eldest and his mother.
Hervé curiously looked around, taking everything in and seeing you on the bed with your daughter sleeping on your chest, "Mama", he whispered, approaching you.
Charles helped him up to sit on the bed next to you without hurting you before greeting his mother, thanking her for looking after the little boy, "Hey mon petit, how are you?", you brushed his soft hair with your fingers, not receiving an answer as he was mesmerised with the little baby on your chest, "can I touch her cheek?", he asked, his little hand stretching, "of course, mon ange", you urged, seeing Charles and Pascale sit on the sofa by the window.
"Her skin is so soft", he noted, earning chuckles from everyone, "it is, very soft", Charles agreed as he watched Hervé completely mesmerised with his sister, "is she going to join us when me and papa go see the karts?", "when she's older, yes. For now we'll stick to laying on us, letting her sleep and some tummy time later".
Summary: one cruel diagnosis sends your hopes and dreams crashing down in painful shards around you
Warnings: cancer, medical procedures, infertility, religion, recommendation to terminate pregnancy
The sun sneaks through slits in the blinds, casting patches of warmth on your shared bed. You’re nestled against Charles’ chest, his heartbeat a gentle hum beneath your ear.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
You smile, shifting around to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful outside.”
Charles brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Every day with you is beautiful.”
There’s a silent pause as the two of just stare at each other. You both know there is more to this morning than mere pleasantries. You think of the tiny stick in the bathroom, far more significant than its small size would have you believe.
“Should we?” You ask hesitantly.
He nods, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Together.”
You both rise hand in hand, making the short walk to the bathroom. Your hands tremble as you reach for the plastic stick on the granite counter.
With a deep breath, you pick it up.
Two lines.
Positive.
Tears prick your eyes and you turn to Charles. “Look,” your voice barely a whisper.
He chokes on air. “Is this ... are we really”
“We did it,” you confirm, tears streaming freely.
Charles’ eyes shimmer with unshed tears of his own. He pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents.”
You pull back slightly, placing a hand on your stomach. “Our baby.”
He nods, laughing softly through his tears. “Our little miracle.”
Holding the test between you both, you share a look of wonder. It feels like the universe has just shifted and realigned in the most beautiful way.
***
The waiting room is a sea of neutral tones and the soft murmurs of hushed conversations. You sit, nervously tapping your fingers on your knee, while Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.
He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You alright?”
You give him a small, tense smile. “Just a bit nervous. First-time jitters, I guess.”
Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a routine check-up.”
Before you can respond, a soft voice calls out, “Mrs. Leclerc?”
You both rise and follow the nurse as she leads you into a cozy exam room, pastel walls adorned with photos of smiling babies and happy families.
After a series of routine checks and questions, the mood remains light. However, when the doctor enters, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, there’s a subtle shift in the air, a feeling that’s hard to pin down.
“First-time parents?” She asks with a warm smile, trying to put you at ease.
Charles nods, beaming with pride. “Yes and we’re over the moon about it.”
She returns the smile but then her expression becomes more clinical, professional, as she reviews the ultrasound. The room is filled with the sound of the machine and your quiet exhalations.
Minutes stretch on, the silence growing more pronounced. The doctor’s brows furrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Charles, sensing the change, grips your hand tighter. “Is everything alright?”
She hesitates for a moment before turning to face you both. “Your baby seems healthy but there’s something concerning about your cervix. I would like to run a few more tests to be sure.”
Your heart plummets, the room suddenly feeling colder. “What ... what do you mean?”
She chooses her words carefully, “There is a chance that it is just a benign irregularity but we need to be certain.”
Tests turn into more tests and the hours seem to blur. Charles is fidgeting anxious mess beside you but his thumb never stops stroking your hand.
Finally, the doctor returns, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders. “I won’t sugarcoat it,” she begins heavily. “The results point to cervical cancer.”
Silence deafens the room. The world around you blurs and you feel Charles’ arms wrap around you, holding you as if you might shatter.
“No,” Charles whispers, his voice breaking. “There must be a mistake.”
The doctor looks at you with sympathy. “I wish there was. We caught it early but it’s aggressive. My recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.”
Your mind races, heartbreak and disbelief clashing within. “Terminate? But our baby ...”
She gently cuts you off. “It’s the best chance to save your life.”
Your vision blurs, the reality of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave. The room, with its softly painted walls and happy baby pictures, suddenly feels like a cruel mockery.
Charles eyes are clouded over with tears and despair. “Please,” he whispers, holding your face between his trembling hands. “I can’t lose you.”
You choke back a sob, the enormity of the situation making it hard to breathe. “But our baby, Charles. Our little miracle.”
He hugs you close, his voice muffled as he buries his face your hair. “I know. But I need you. We promised each other forever, remember?”
You clutch at him, memories of shared dreams and whispered promises flooding back. The villa by the sea that you would fill with warmth and laughter, growing old together, watching sunsets side by side.
“I can’t imagine a life without you,” he continues, voice breaking. “Not a single day.”
The pain in his words cuts deep, each syllable a raw wound. You hide your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.
“We wanted this baby so much,” you whisper brokenly.
“I know,” Charles chokes out. “But I need you with me. I can’t be alone. I can’t live without you.”
***
The soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows, making the room feel both intimate and immense. You sit on the couch, a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the tea that has long gone cold in your mug.
Charles sits opposite you, unmoving. He clears his throat, searching for words, “I’ve been thinking ... about what the doctor said.”
You look up, meeting his gaze, a storm brewing within it. “So have I.”
Charles closes his eyes, struggling with his emotions. “I can’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I would be content, you know? To grow old, just the two of us, if it means I spend every day of my life with you by my side.”
Your heart aches, tears pricking your eyes. “Charles, our baby ...”
He cuts you off, voice filled with raw emotion. “I know. But you’re my world. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”
A heavy silence settles between you two, the weight of unsaid words pressing down.
You take a deep breath, “I want this baby. I want our baby. But I also want to grow old with you, to be there for every race, for every win and every loss, on and off the track.”
He reaches across, taking your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “We’ve faced so much together. But this is tearing me apart. I just want you safe.”
You squeeze his hand, searching his eyes. “If I choose the baby, will you ... will you resent me? Will you resent them? If I choose the baby, and ... leave you alone?”
He looks away, the pain of thinking about it clear on his face, “Never. I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. But I’ll never hold it against you. Or them. I’ll cherish our child but my heart ... my heart would be forever broken.”
You both sit in silence, lost in your thoughts.
“I’ve made up my mind.”
Charles looks at you intently, waiting.
“I’m going to keep the baby.”
He shuts his eyes tightly but a tear manages to slip through the crack and down his face. “I will support whatever decision you make. I just ... I love you so much.”
You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. We’ll face this together, no matter what.”
As you lay down beside Charles, the comfort of the familiar sheets beneath you, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You can feel the tension in his body, the struggle to be the rock, to be strong.
In the quiet darkness, you feel more than hear his silent sobs, the tremors that shake his frame. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, offering the only comfort you can as the world falls apart around you.
***
“Please, mon amour, just eat something,” Charles implores, voice laced with worry as he holds out a plate of your favorite pasta.
The aroma drifts to you, making your stomach churn, but you force a weak smile. “I’ll try.”
It’s been months since that fateful doctor’s appointment. The specter of cancer looms over your pregnancy like a dark cloud, casting shadows on the joy you should be feeling.
Days blur into one another. Doctor visits are now your routine. Charles, who once sped around racetracks with fearless abandon, now navigates the hospital corridors with a silent determination.
There are days when weakness consumes you, moments when you can’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Charles has become your lifeline, helping you dress, making sure you eat, and even carrying you when your legs give out.
“I can’t do this,” you whisper to him one night, tears tracing down your cheeks. “I’m not strong enough.”
He cradles your face, his own eyes brimming with tears he refuses to shed. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re carrying our baby. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”
The pain is relentless, a constant companion. Each doctor’s visit brings more bad news. The cancer is spreading and your body is weakening. Yet, you cling to hope, to the belief that your love for each other can conquer anything.
One evening, you're curled up on the couch, aching and exhausted. Charles, sitting beside you, traces a finger along your cheek, his touch gentle as he tries to be strong for both of you.
“You’re my world,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I hate seeing you like this but I would rather be with you in this darkness than without you in the light.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you reach for his hand. “We’ll get through this together. Our love is stronger than anything. Even cancer.”
But you’re not sure how much you can believe that anymore.
***
“You’re playing with fire,” your sister blurts out the moment she steps into your living room. Her eyes are red, mascara messily smudged around them.
Charles’ jaw clenches but before he can retort, your father interjects, his voice roughened by age and worry, “She means you’re risking too much. We all see it.”
You sink further into the couch under the weight of their stares. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you really?” Your mother questions wetly. “Every time we see you, you’re paler, weaker. Is it worth it?”
Charles steps forward, taking your hand. “It’s her choice. And I’ll stand by her through everything.”
Your best friend sighs deeply. “We’re just scared for you. We don’t want to lose you.”
The room becomes a whirlwind of opinions, tears, and pleas. They all mean well, you know that, but the their concerns feel suffocating.
The tension escalates, words sharper than intended, when suddenly Charles explodes, “That’s enough! It’s her decision and it’s not up for you to debate.”
The room falls silent.
Your sister speaks up, “We just love you, that’s all.”
Charles collapses onto the couch beside you, burying his face in his hands. “And you think I don’t? I don’t want to be a widower. A single father looking at our child and seeing only the love we lost,” he admits in a hushed tone, his voice breaking. “It’s the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes. It plagues my dreams. But that love means supporting Y/N even if seeing what she’s going through breaks my heart.”
You pull him close. “I know. But I need to hold onto hope. To believe we can have it all. Our baby and a lifetime together.”
He gazes deep into your eyes. “I love you. More than words can say. I just want you with me, always.”
Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you reach for his hand. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I believe in us, in our love. And I can’t bear to let go of our baby.”
He wraps you in a hug and you can feel his body trembling. “I don’t want to lose you but I can’t stand to see you suffer like this either.”
***
“Do you think they’ll have your eyes?” Charles murmurs, his hand gently resting on your swollen belly, fingers tracing small circles.
You smile weakly, feeling the flutter of tiny kicks in response. “Or your fearless spirit?”
He chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your baby bump. “Hey there, little racer. Promise me you’ll take after your mother more.”
Despite the weariness that constantly lingers, these quiet moments fill your heart with warmth.
“Imagine,” you whisper one evening, “our little one’s first day of school or their first race if they decide to follow in their papa’s footsteps.”
Charles grins, “And inheriting their maman’s stubborn streak will surely mean they’ll be a world champion.”
As your body grows heavier with the weight of the pregnancy and growth of the cancer, your time spent outside the confines of your bed becomes increasingly limited. The facade Charles wears for your benefit becomes increasingly brittle. He’s your rock, never letting his worries show in front of you, but you still see the toll it’s taking on him.
One evening, after ensuring you’re comfortably tucked in, Charles kisses your forehead softly and whispers, “Rest, mon amour. I’ll be right here.”
Drifting into a fitful sleep, you wake to the muffled sound of heart-wrenching sobs. Curiosity pulls you from the warm cocoon of your bed with the last of your strength, guiding you towards the soft light spilling from the slightly ajar bathroom door.
Listening closer, you can hear Charles’ broken voice, “I can’t ... I can’t lose her. Not like this.”
You press your hand to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as you realize he’s on a call, probably with one of his brothers.
“You don’t understand,” Charles continues, his voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at her, I see our future slipping away. Our dreams, our plans ... everything is fading into ashes.”
There’s a pause, punctuated with stifled sobs. “I have to be strong for her but it’s tearing me apart. Every smile I wear, every reassurance I give, it all feels like a lie because I am so freaking scared.”
Your heart aches, hearing the raw pain in his voice, knowing all this time he’s been shielding you from his own agony.
Silently, you retreat, not wanting him to know you’ve overheard. Slipping back into bed, you grapple with the weight of the shared pain, the collective heartache that has become your reality.
Minutes later, Charles returns to the bedroom. His eyes red-rimmed but determined. He sends a shaky smile your way, “How’s my brave girl?”
You reach out, trying to pull him against your chest with tired arms. “Let’s be brave together.”
He nods, choking back fresh tears. “Together. No matter what.”
***
The old church stands quietly in Maranello, its tall steeple pointing skyward, as if reaching out to the heavens. Inside, the soft glow of candles flickers as the side door swings open. Don Pietro, an aging priest with kind eyes lined with crow’s feet, is startled by the sudden entrance.
“Charles?” His voice, filled with surprise, echoes softly in the hushed space.
Charles’ normally confident stride is replaced with hesitation. “Don Pietro,” he tries to muster a smile but fails. “I ... I didn’t know where else to go.”
The priest approaches, eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been worried. When Ferrari announced you were taking a season off, I prayed for you.”
Charles chuckles bitterly, “Prayers. Never thought I would be seeking those.”
Don Pietro studies him for a moment. “Pain has a way of making us turn to the unexpected.”
Charles’ face contorts in anguish. “I’ve always called myself an atheist. After Jules ... after my father ... I felt abandoned by any god that might exist. But now, she’s ... she’s everything to me and I’m powerless to stop losing her.”
The priest’s voice is soft when he replies, “Life may test us in ways we can’t comprehend. But God never gives us more than we can bear.”
Charles’ laugh is hollow, devoid of mirth. “Bear? I can’t bear the thought of a world without her. Tell me, how does a loving god allow such pain?”
Don Pietro sighs, the weight of many years shining through. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers but sometimes faith is all we have.”
“I feel like I’m being punished, like I’m cursed. Why else would I lose the people I love most?” Charles looks at the ground, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he takes a shuddering breath. “I would give anything ... anything to save her. I have thought to visit mosques, synagogues, temples ... anywhere some higher power might listen to my pleas. I’m desperate, Don Pietro.”
The priest speaks gently, “Turning to God in times of despair is not weakness. It’s human. But faith is not about bargaining, it’s about having trust.”
A tear rolls down Charles’ cheek. “I’m so scared. Every night, I watch her sleep, wondering if it will be our last night together. I would gladly give up everything else if it means she stays with me.”
The priest reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Then let’s pray, my son. Let us pray together.”
The tears turn to a steady stream rolling down Charles’ cheeks as he falls to his knees. “Please ... I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her away.”
Don Pietro kneels beside him. “God hears you, Charles. And He knows your pain.”
They stay united in prayer. Two souls reaching out to the heavens and begging for a miracle.
***
“It’s too early,” you gasp, clutching the bed sheets as another contraction grips you.
Charles is by your side, panic evident in his eyes even as he tries to keep you calm. “Breathe, love. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”
But the pain is relentless, each contraction more intense than the last. The hospital room is a blur of activity, doctors and nurses rushing around, preparing for the premature delivery.
“You need to stay strong,” one of the nurses urges, trying to guide you through the pain.
Charles, pale and shaking, holds your hand so tightly it’s almost painful. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “You and our baby, both of you, stay with me. Please.”
The labor is grueling, each passing minute a test of your willpower and strength. Charles is crumbling into pieces beside you, every ounce of his pain clearly written across his face.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, leaning close. “Not now, not ever.”
But the world around you is fading, the pain becoming too much to bear. “I love you so much. In this life and the next,” you choke out with the last of your strength as your vision tunnels.
Suddenly, alarms blare. The room becomes a whirlwind of organized chaos. “We’re losing her!” A doctor shouts.
Charles is pushed aside as they work to save you. “No! Please, no!” He screams in agony.
You’re dimly aware of being rushed into another room, doctors shouting orders and starting emergency procedures.
Then, everything goes black.
Charles is left in the corridor. A broken man, waiting for news, praying for a miracle. Hours feel like days, each passing second an eternity.
Finally, a doctor emerges, his scrubs covered in spots of dark blood. “The baby is fine,” he begins, “But your wife ... we had to put her in a coma. The cancer is advanced. We’ll do everything we can but she’s not out of the woods.”
Charles sinks to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Please, just save her. Please.”
***
“It’s a girl,” a nurse approaches Charles with a small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.
Charles, tears still fresh on his face, looks up, momentarily stunned. “A ... a girl?”
The nurse nods, offering the tiny newborn to him. “Would you like to hold her?”
He hesitates, then slowly reaches out, cradling his daughter in his arms. Her small face, a canvas of peace among the chaos, is a stark contrast to the turmoil surrounding them.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, tears starting anew. “Just like her mother.”
The nurse smiles gently. “Have you thought of a name?”
Charles nods, “Juliette. After my godfather.”
Gently rocking the infant, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Juliette,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. Your maman and I have waited so long for you. We love you so much.”
Juliette stirs, her tiny fingers curling around one of Charles’ own.
“I promise,” Charles voice breaks, “to protect you. I will be here for you, always.”
A doctor approaches, clearing his throat. “Mr. Leclerc, your wife’s condition is critical. But she’s a fighter and she has a lot to fight for.”
Charles nods, looking down at Juliette. “She does. We both do.”
Gently rocking your daughter, he loses himself in the rhythm of her soft breaths and the warmth of her tiny body against his chest. It’s an odd feeling — holding the fresh promise of life in his arms while the love of his life hangs in the balance.
***
“We’ve run all possible tests,” the oncologist begins. Charles, clutching a sleeping Juliette to his chest, waits with bated breath. “The cancer has progressed aggressively. To give her a fighting chance, we need to perform a hysterectomy.”
The room grows cold as the gravity of the doctor’s words sinks in. Charles’ voice trembles, “But that means ...”
The doctor nods, voice as gentle as the situation allows. “She won’t be able to bear children again.”
Silence stretches as the weight of the world seems to fall on Charles’ shoulders. He gazes down at Juliette, the embodiment of the dreams and hopes you both had.
“We had plans,” Charles whispers, more to himself. “We wanted more children, a big family.”
The doctor waits. “I understand how hard this is. But without the procedure, her chances ...”
“I know,” Charles cuts him off, voice breaking. “Do it. Do whatever it takes to save her.”
The doctor nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll do our best.”
As preparations for the surgery commence, Charles sits in the dimly lit waiting area, holding Juliette close. The baby, as if sensing the heavy atmosphere, remains unusually quiet.
“It’s not fair,” Charles’ lips form words meant for the void. “She’s sacrificed so much already. She deserves a world filled with joy and laughter.”
From across the room, a nurse, having overheard, speaks up, “Life has its cruel twists but the love you both share … that’s rare. Hold onto that.”
Charles nods, taking solace in the nurse’s words. Time seems to lose all meaning, each tick of the clock amplifying the uncertainty and fear.
Finally, a surgeon approaches, fatigue evident in her posture even as her face remains carefully professional. “The procedure went as well as could be expected. Your wife is stable for now.”
Relief floods Charles so rapidly that he has to stop himself from falling to the ground as he murmurs a heartfelt, “Thank you.”
But as he sits by your bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the reality of what you had lost sets in. The dreams of a large family, shared laughter, and memories, all stolen by this cruel twist of fate.
***
The world around you is a haze of light and shadow, the sounds a distant echo. Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re lost, disoriented, and overwhelmed. Then, you see Charles, his face etched with relief and sorrow, tears glistening in his eyes.
“Welcome back,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’ve missed you so much.”
You try to speak but your throat is too parched to make a sound. Charles offers you a sip of water, his hands trembling as he helps you drink.
“What happened?” You finally manage to croak, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.
Charles takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “The cancer ... it had advanced. They had to perform a hysterectomy to save you.”
The word hangs in the air, heavy and final. Your abdomen feels sore and you reach down, fingers tracing the bandages. Panic seizes you and the tears pour down without permission as the reality of what’s been taken from you crashes down.
“It’s gone,” you sob. “Our dreams ... our family.”
Charles leans in, tears mingling with yours. “Shh, mon amour. None of this is your fault. We’ll find another way, another path to happiness. We have Juliette and we have each other.”
But the weight of guilt is crushing. “We dreamed of a big family,” you cry, the depth of your loss piercing. “And I’ve taken that away from us.”
He brushes your tears away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. We’ll make new dreams together, I promise.”
“I just wanted to give you everything,” the grief wracks your body.
“You already have,” Charles insists. “You’ve given me love, you’ve given me our little girl … our Juliette. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”
With great effort, you lift your arms, weak from the ordeal. Charles, understanding your unspoken desire, carefully places Juliette against your chest. You’re too weak to hold her on your own but together, you and Charles support her tiny form.
“Hello, Juliette," you whisper, tears of joy mingling with your earlier tears of grief.
She blinks up at you, her eyes wide and curious. You’ve never felt anything like what fills your heart as you look at the perfect human you both created, the embodiment of love and resilience.
“I love you both so much,” you whisper, heart swelling with a dizzying mix of joy and sorrow.
Charles, his own eyes filled with tears, leans down and kisses both you and Juliette gently. “We have each other and right now that’s all that matters.”
***
“I never imagined it would be like this,” your voice wavers as you lie propped up by pillows in the dimly lit bedroom.
Charles, his fingers intertwined with yours, meets your gaze. “Neither did I.”
The weight of all that’s transpired hangs heavily in the room. The joy of Juliette’s arrival is marred by the pain and loss you both feel.
“I feel ... incomplete,” you admit, tears forming in your eyes. “Like a part of me is missing.”
“I wish I could take away the pain,” Charles responds. “If I could trade places with you, I would in a heartbeat.”
You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your burden to bear. But it’s … hard. I wanted to give Juliette siblings, the big family we always talked about.”
Charles leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “We still have a family. We have each other and we have Juliette. We can still have a full, beautiful life together.”
You sigh, “But do you ever wonder why? Why us?”
He hesitates, searching for words. “Every day. Sometimes, there’s just no answer, only a path forward.”
You curl into him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “What does our path forward look like?”
Charles pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s filled with love, with hope. We heal together. We face challenges together. And we build a future together. No matter what.”
“I’m scared.”
He brushes away your tears. “So am I. But we have each other and that’s a pretty good place to start if you ask me.”
***
“She smiled, Charles! Did you see that? Juliette smiled!”
Charles rushes over and peers into the crib with gleaming eyes. “There it is! That little grin,” his voice is filled with wonder. “Our little miracle has the most beautiful smile. Just like her mother’s.”
Juliette, seemingly aware of the shared happiness in the room, gurgles softly, her small fingers reaching out to grasp a lock of Charles’ hair.
You watch them, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “She brings us so much joy. It’s amazing.”
Charles nods, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face. “She’s our light in the darkness.”
Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to Juliette’s forehead. “I’m so thankful for both of you.”
He shifts closer, resting his head against yours. “You know, mon amour, I’ve been thinking ...”
You turn to him, curiosity piqued. “About what?”
He takes a deep breath. “About our dreams. I know it’s not what we originally planned but what if we consider adoption?”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, love and hope blossoming. “Adoption?”
Charles smiles warmly. “Yes. We’ve always dreamed of a big family. And there are so many children out there who need a home, who need love. We can give a child all of that and more.”
Tears well up in your eyes but they’re tears of joy and gratitude. “That’s a beautiful idea.”
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Our love knows no bounds. The path to our dreams may not be as simple as we once imagined but we will get there, one step at a time.”
***
Charles’ phone buzzes with an incoming call in the early hours of the morning. Seeing a familiar name flash across the screen, he answers immediately. “Don Pietro? Is everything okay?”
“Charles, you need to come to Maranello. Both of you. As soon as possible.”
Charles exchanges a puzzled glance with you. “Is something wrong?”
“Just come,” Don Pietro insists, “and bring your wife. I believe there is a miracle waiting for you.”
The drive to Maranello is filled with anticipation. Your mind races with possibilities, questions whirling in a tornado of confusion and hope.
Upon arriving at the church, you’re met with the sight of the elderly priest holding a tiny bundle. The baby, with soft tufts of hair and eyes wide with curiosity, looks up at the two of you.
“This,” Don Pietro begins, “is Enzo. He was left on the steps of our church last night. And the moment I held him, I thought of you two.”
Charles’ eyes widen. “Enzo ... like Ferrari?”
Don Pietro nods with a soft chuckle, “It’s as if the universe is trying to tell us something.”
You reach out, taking the infant into your arms. Enzo’s little hand wraps around your finger, his eyes meeting yours. The connection is instant, like two souls recognizing each other.
Charles’ voice is thick with emotion, “It’s as if he was meant to be with us. A sign, maybe?”
Don Pietro smiles warmly, “Perhaps a nudge from above, reminding us that miracles happen when we least expect them.”
Tears spring to your eyes, the weight of the moment overwhelming you. Charles is equally moved, his eyes glistening and lips trembling.
“We talked about adoption,” he murmurs. “But this ... this feels like fate.”
Don Pietro nods. “He needs a family, love, and a home. And I believe you two can give him that.”
As Charles takes Enzo from your arms and cradles him close, a bond that goes beyond words quickly forms. You lean in, touching Enzo’s chubby cheek, your heart swelling with love.
The moment feels destined — a new piece seamlessly fitting into the puzzle of your family.
***
“Look at that, Julie and Enny! Those cars go vroom vroom,” you point out with a smile playing on your lips as the roar of engines fills the air.
Juliette’s eyes widen in awe, her tiny hand pointing excitedly. Beside her, Enzo claps his hands, giggling. “Vroom!” He mimics.
Charles, his racing suit on, kneels to their level. “Would you like to see papa’s car up close?”
Both children nod eagerly, their eyes sparkling.
As you make your way through the paddock, team members and other drivers stop to meet the kids. “Look at these future champions!” Exclaims one of the engineers, ruffling Enzo’s hair.
Juliette, ever the social butterfly, giggles and offers a shy “Hello.”
Reaching the Ferrari garage, the team breaks into smiles. “Looks like Charles brought his lucky charms today,” someone comments, causing a round of chuckles.
“Ready for a photo op?” Charles grins, lifting Juliette into the driver's seat as you follow suit with Enzo, placing him right beside his sister.
They look so small in the cockpit, faces full of wonder. “Beep beep,” Juliette laughs, pretending to steer.
“Future Ferrari driver right here,” Charles beams.
As the team gathers around, cameras flashing, you take a moment to soak it all in. The laughter, the joy, the memories — this is what life is about.
“There were times I thought this day would never come,” Charles whispers to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “Our family here, all together.”
You squeeze his hand, tears of happiness threatening to spill over. “Our dream is now … and it’s only just beginning.”
***
“Henri and Helaine, look it’s your sister!” You cheer, pointing to the massive screen as Juliette’s Ferrari speeds past, making your young twins cheer and clap clumsily in excitement.
Charles grins as an orange blur follows shortly, “And Enzo’s not far behind. What a race!”
The atmosphere in the paddock is electric. Red for Ferrari, orange for McLaren, the colors of a family divided by teams but united by love.
Suddenly, a microphone appears as a familiar reporter approaches. “A quick word for the fans? It must be a thrilling day for the Leclerc family!”
Charles grins, adjusting his half-Ferrari, half-McLaren cap. “Oh, absolutely! We couldn’t be any prouder. A bit of sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, right?”
You laugh, nodding in agreement. “We’ve always said, as long as they’re safe and enjoying themselves, that’s what matters. Though,” you add with a playful wink, “I always wear both colors, just in case!”
The reporter chuckles. “And the young ones? Future racers in the making?”
Henri, with all the innocence of childhood, pipes up, “I wanna go vroom too!”
Helaine nods rapidly. “Me too! Super duper fast.”
You and Charles exchange a glance in amusement. “Well, there you have it,” Charles says with a smile. “Looks like the tracks will be seeing Leclercs for many years to come.”
The race ends with both Juliette and Enzo clinching a podium finish. The celebrations are loud and filled with joy, but for you, true happiness is seeing your family — past, present, and future — come together just like you always dreamed.
Summary: in which Charles and Carlos are head over heels for you and you’re still painfully oblivious despite their best efforts
Warnings: this is a poly fic, overwhelming amounts of fluff
“Hey, Y/N! You’ve got a delivery!”
You look up, confused, as one of the mechanics hands over a beautifully wrapped bouquet. The vibrant pink roses and lilies contrast strikingly against the red of the Ferrari motorhome.
“For me? Who’s it from?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.
The attached card is simple: For someone who lights up the track without even racing.
“Must be from a sponsor or someone thanking Dad,” you muse aloud, inhaling the fragrant bouquet.
Your father, Fred Vasseur, chuckles from a few steps away, “A sponsor, you think?”
You nod, genuinely convinced, “Who else?”
Charles, emerging from his cool-down session after practice, spots you with the flowers. His heart does a little jolt, hoping you’d recognize his gesture. “Those are beautiful,” he comments, trying to sound casual.
“They are, aren’t they?” You beam, holding them out to let him get a better look. “I think they’re from a sponsor or something. It’s a nice touch.”
A small, knowing smile tugs at Charles’ lips but he just nods. “Very thoughtful of them.”
Your father watches the exchange with an amused smirk, clearly catching on to Charles’ hidden intentions. He leans in to whisper to the Monegasque driver, “You sure you want to keep it anonymous, Leclerc?”
Charles shrugs but there’s a hint of red on his cheeks, “I thought it’d be more … romantic? But I didn’t think she would be this oblivious.”
Your father chuckles, patting Charles on the back, “Give it time, son.”
The day continues and you go about your tasks, occasionally stopping to admire the flowers, still clueless about their real origin. Everyone around seems to be sharing knowing glances and subtle nudges.
Carlos, having heard about Charles’ gesture, approaches you. “Heard you got a surprise today,” he comments playfully.
You nod, beaming, “Yeah, a pleasant one. It’s always nice to be appreciated, even if it’s indirectly.”
Charles, overhearing, sighs from a distance. “I need to up my game,” he murmurs to himself.
***
“Morning, Y/N! I brought you something.”
You glance up from your paperwork to find Carlos holding out a steaming cup of coffee and a beautifully wrapped pastry. You can’t help but smile, already salivating.
“Thanks, Carlos. This is such a treat! How do you always know where to find the best coffee and pastries?”
Carlos shrugs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, “Oh, you know. Just lucky, I guess.”
Your father watches the exchange from a distance, laughing softly. “Carlos sure seems to have a knack for pleasing your taste buds,” he teases as he approaches.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you reply, “He’s just being friendly, Dad. Everyone loves a good pastry, right?”
Your father just raises an eyebrow, sipping his own coffee, “If you say so.”
Carlos, seeing an opportunity, chimes in, “Actually, I’ve been exploring the local bakeries in each city. You know, trying to find the best treats.” He pauses for a second, cheeks reddening ever-so-slightly, “Glad you like them.”
It’s a small confession but enough to get a teasing cheer from some of the mechanics nearby. You just laugh, assuming it’s part of the team's usual banter. “You’re too dedicated, Carlos! Thanks for always thinking of me.”
Carlos chuckles, his eyes betraying a hint of something deeper, “Anything for a … friend.”
Later, as you’re engrossed in your work, Charles passes by, subtly observing the pastry and coffee by your side. He exchanges a brief, understanding look with Carlos.
“You know,” Charles says casually, taking a seat opposite you, “Carlos wakes up an hour early just to find these for you.”
You blink, surprised, “Really?”
Charles nods, smirking, “Ask anyone here. They’ve seen him race off, rain or shine.”
Your heart swells with appreciation. “I had no idea,” you whisper, truly touched.
Carlos, overhearing, intervenes with a chuckle, “Leclerc, stop making it sound so dramatic! I just … like to start my day with a good treat, that’s all."
You smile warmly, taking a sip of your coffee, “You’re such a good friend, Carlos. I’m lucky to have you looking out for me like this.”
Carlos nods, swallowing down a hint of disappointment, “Always, Y/N. Just looking out for a friend, right?”
Your father passing by, catches the tail end of the conversation. He winks at Carlos, teasing, “Oh, absolutely. Just a friend.”
Carlos shoots him a mock glare but there’s a smirk on his lips. “Exactly. Just doing what any good friend would do.”
You laugh, completely missing the underlying tension, “Well, here’s to more coffee-filled mornings. Thanks, friend.”
Carlos raises his cup in a mock toast, “To friendship.” But there’s a certain longing in his eyes, a silent hope that someday friendship might evolve into something more.
***
“Y/N, have you ever thought of getting behind the wheel?”
You glance up from your notes, finding Charles leaning against your desk, a mischievous glint in his eye. You laugh, “Of a race car? Surely you’re joking.”
He shrugs, an inviting smirk on his face, “Who better to teach you than a Ferrari driver?”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Are you offering?”
Charles nods. “Why not? It’ll be fun and maybe you’ll get a new appreciation for what we do.”
You consider it. “Alright, when?”
“How about after tomorrow’s practice session? The track will be free.”
Carlos, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “Planning some secret training without me?” His tone is playful but there’s an underlying hint of jealousy.
Charles grins, “Just thought I’d offer our friend here a little taste of the track life.”
You chuckle, “Don’t worry, Carlos. If I crash, I promise I’ll come to you for my second lesson.”
Carlos smirks, “I’ll hold you to that.”
The following day, after the practice session, you find yourself clad in a racing suit, helmet in hand, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. Charles approaches, looking much more confident than you feel.
“Ready?” He asks, voice full of anticipation.
You nod, gulping down your anxiety. “As I’ll ever be.”
The next hour is a blur of acceleration, sharp turns, and the roar of the engine. Charles proves to be a patient and encouraging teacher, guiding you through the intricacies of handling a race car. The adrenaline, the rush, and the sheer power of the machine are intoxicating.
At one point, as you glide around a particularly challenging curve, Charles whoops in delight from the passenger seat, “That’s it, Y/N! You’re a natural!”
Your laughter rings out, pure and genuine, “Maybe I’ve found my new calling.”
As the session comes to an end and the two of you climb out of the car, Carlos approaches, clapping. “Not bad for a rookie,” he teases.
You playfully shove him, “Thanks to my excellent instructor here.”
Charles laughs, ruffling your hair, “You were great, seriously.”
Carlos nods in agreement, “I guess I’ll be out of a job soon.”
You roll your eyes, “One lesson and suddenly I’m a pro? You flatter me. But seriously, this was amazing. Truly. Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Charles grins, “Anytime. And remember, there’s always more to learn.”
Carlos smirks, “And more instructors available, just in case.”
You laugh, “I’ll keep that in mind. For now, let’s celebrate me not crashing the car!”
As you all head off, you link arms with Charles, “You know, for a moment there, I felt the thrill you must feel during races. Thanks for being such a good friend and showing me that world.”
Charles smiles softly, a pang of both happiness and a touch of disappointment at the word you used. “Of course. Anything for a friend.”
Carlos, observing from a distance, shares a knowing look with Charles. The message is clear: the race is far from over.
***
“Hey, Y/N. Can’t sleep?”
You’re startled to find Carlos waiting by the hotel lobby, a charming smile playing on his lips. The clock on the wall reads just past midnight.
You rub your eyes, yawning, “No, not really. Jet lag, I guess.”
Carlos gestures toward the entrance, “How about a midnight stroll? I know this beautiful spot nearby.”
You hesitate for a moment but then nod, intrigued. “Sure, why not? Lead the way.”
The two of you step out into the cool night to find the quiet city bathed in soft light. The silence is comfortable as you walk side by side.
As you amble along, you can’t help but wonder, “Why are you up so late?”
He glances at you, “Couldn’t sleep either. And I thought maybe you’d enjoy some company.”
You smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. “That’s really sweet of you.”
He points to a quiet park with a pond, its surface shimmering with the reflection of the moon. “Here we are. This place always helps me clear my head whenever we’re in town for a race.”
You settle on a bench and Carlos quickly sits beside you, shoulders brushing lightly.
The night unfolds with shared stories and laughter. Carlos opens up about his journey in racing, the challenges he’s faced, and the moments of triumph. You listen intently, feeling a newfound connection.
As the hours slip away, Carlos admits with a soft chuckle, “You know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Really? Why me?”
Carlos smiles, the moonlight illuminating his face. “Because you’re special. You’re different from anyone I’ve met on or off the circuit.”
A warm feeling washes over you. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
He turns toward you, his gaze intense, “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say. Something I’ve been feeling for a while.”
But just as he’s about to speak, you yawn loudly, unable to hide your exhaustion any longer. “Sorry. I guess jet lag finally caught up with me.”
He chuckles, disappointment flickering in his eyes, “No worries. Let’s head back.”
When you reach the hotel entrance, Carlos bids you goodnight, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. “Get some rest. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.”
You smile sleepily, giving him a friendly hug, “Thanks for the midnight adventure. It was nice.”
He holds you for a moment longer than usual before pulling away, “Anytime. Sweet dreams.”
***
“Another one? Seriously?”
You chuckle, pulling out a small folded note from your jacket pocket, the fifth one this week.
“The world’s fastest circuits are slow compared to how fast you make my heart beat.” You read aloud, your cheeks warming at the words.
Carlos, seated nearby, smirks, “Someone’s clearly smitten with you. Any idea who?”
You shrug, “I figured they’re just motivational notes from the team. You know, to keep spirits up.”
Charles joins in, trying to keep his face neutral, “They’re quite poetic for just team motivation, don’t you think?”
You ponder his words, tilting your head. “I guess? But who would be sending them?”
Carlos snorts, “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious.”
You shoot him a confused look, “It is?”
Carlos and Charles exchange a glance, silently communicating. Charles, deciding to have a bit of fun, teases, “Well, they’re definitely from someone who admires you. And since they’re always hidden in places only the team has access to, it’s likely from someone here.”
Carlos nods in agreement, “Sounds about right.”
You laugh, shaking your head, “You guys are just trying to rile me up. It’s probably just one of the pit crew playing a prank.”
Charles, a touch defensive, says, “You might be surprised. Maybe you have a secret admirer closer than you think.”
Your father, passing by, overhears the conversation and chuckles, “It’s about time she figures it out.”
You stare, completely baffled, “Figures what out?”
He just winks, patting Charles on the shoulder, “Keep trying.”
Your day is filled with speculation and curious glances, with everyone seeming to be in on a secret that you aren’t privy to. The notes, while touching, become a source of playful teasing.
That evening, as you prepare for bed, you find another note tucked inside your notebook: Your passion and dedication make even the toughest races feel like victories.
You can’t help but smile. “Who are you?” You whisper to yourself.
Little do you know, just a few rooms away, Charles is scribbling down another note, his heart set on winning yours, one word at a time.
***
The night is electric, the post-race party in full swing, music thumping and lights reflecting off the crystal-clear waters of the pool.
“Y/N! Join us for a dance?”
You turn, finding Carlos standing there, his hand outstretched and a playful smile on his face.
You laugh, “You’ve seen me dance. You sure you want to take that risk?”
He chuckles, pulling you closer to the dance floor, “For you? Always.”
As the music shifts to a slower, more intimate tune, you feel a bit self-conscious. But Carlos guides you gracefully, making you feel as if you’re the only two people in the world.
“See? You’re a natural,” Carlos murmurs, his dark eyes locked onto yours.
You chuckle, “Or you’re just an excellent lead.”
Carlos smirks, “Could be both.”
Throughout the night you share more dances, both with Carlos and a few with Charles, who also proves to be quite the dancer. Each time you’re spun, dipped, or drawn close, there’s an electric charge, a connection that’s impossible to ignore.
“Enjoying yourself?” Charles asks during one dance, his voice soft and sincere.
You nod, “Very much so. It’s not every day I get to dance with Ferrari’s finest.”
Charles smirks, “Glad to be of service. You’re quite the dancer yourself, you know.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re just saying that.”
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I mean every word.”
Before you can process his statement, Carlos swoops in, teasing, “Mind if I cut in?”
Charles sighs, releasing you, “Go on but save the next one for me.”
Carlos, dancing you away, smirks, “He’s quite smitten with you.”
You laugh, “Oh, stop. We’re just friends.”
Carlos raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?”
You nod, “Absolutely.”
Carlos, holding you a bit closer, murmurs just low enough so only he can hear, “And he’s not the only one who’s smitten.” The hint of longing in his eyes remains hidden to you as the dance continues.
***
“Welcome to the local side of my home!” Charles exclaims with an open gesture, Monaco sprawling before you in all its glory.
You gaze around, taking in the sights of the city. “It’s beautiful. The tourist traps and casinos really don’t do it justice.”
He grins, obviously proud. “I thought you’d appreciate a personal tour. Ready?”
You nod enthusiastically, “Absolutely.”
Charles leads you through winding streets, each corner revealing another story, another memory. “This is where I had my first gelato,” he shares, pointing at a quaint little shop. “And over there,” he gestures to a narrow cobblestone lane, “is where I learned to ride a bike.”
You chuckle, “Really? These streets seem a bit treacherous for a kid on a bike.”
He laughs, “Let’s just say there were a few scrapes and bruises.”
As you continue, Charles points out his favorite viewpoints, cafes, and even his childhood home. It’s an intimate glimpse into his world and you feel honored.
“You know,” you say, pausing to gaze out over the harbor, “it’s one thing to know someone as a colleague and it’s another to really know them. Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Charles looks at you, genuine warmth in his eyes. “I wanted you to see where I come from, the place that shaped me. Who better to share it with than you?”
You smile, touched. The two of you continue, with Charles occasionally slipping his hand into yours, guiding you along.
Towards the end of the tour, you stop at a cozy café overlooking the sea. As you sip your drinks, Charles leans in, his tone serious. “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
You look up, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
Before he can speak, his phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, Charles sighs. “It’s the team. I have to take this.”
You nod, understanding. “Go ahead.”
When Charles hangs up, he looks apologetic. “I’m so sorry. Duty calls.”
You smile, reassuringly, “It’s okay. Today was special. Thank you.”
Charles nods, hesitating for a moment, as if wanting to say more. Instead, he simply leans in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Until next time.”
***
“Oh, this doesn’t look good,” you mutter, noticing the looming dark clouds as you hurry through the paddock.
Before you can take another step, raindrops start to fall, quickly morphing into a torrential downpour. You’re caught in the middle, water soaking your clothes and making your paperwork soggy.
From a distance, Carlos notices your plight. “Y/N!” He calls out, already running towards you with an umbrella in hand.
By the time he reaches you, you’re thoroughly drenched, strands of hair stuck to your face. “Took a sudden shower, did we?” He teases, even as he huddles you under the umbrella.
You chuckle, shivering slightly, “It seems so. Thanks for the rescue.”
Carlos slips off his jacket and wraps it around you. The warmth of it, combined with his scent — a mix of cologne, fresh rain, and something uniquely Carlos — is comforting.
“You’re getting soaked!” You protest, noticing his wet shirt clinging to his toned body.
Carlos just shrugs, “You needed it more than I did.”
As the two of you find shelter from the storm, the tension between you is palpable. The rain has created a sudden intimacy and you’re both acutely aware of each other.
“Better?” Carlos asks, his voice softer than usual, noticing you inhaling the scent of his jacket.
You nod, cheeks heating up. “Yeah. Smells like ... well, you.”
He smirks, “Is that a good thing?”
You glance up, meeting his gaze, “Definitely.”
There’s a pause, a shared moment where neither of you needs to speak. The rain pattering outside creates a rhythmic backdrop to the charged atmosphere.
Carlos breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, “Y/N, I …”
You lean in, “Yes?”
Just then, a gust of wind blows the umbrella out of Carlos’ hand, startling the both of you. The sudden distraction breaks the intensity of the moment and you both laugh at the absurdity of it.
Carlos, trying to chase the runaway umbrella, calls out, “Rain check?”
You laugh, trying to calm your racing heartbeat, “Quite literally.”
***
“You won’t believe what Carlos did this time,” Antonio, one of the lead engineers, whispers to Paolo, a senior mechanic.
You’re nearby, checking the equipment for the upcoming practice session, but their hushed conversation catches your attention.
Paolo chuckles, “Can’t be crazier than what Charles tried last week.”
Antonio smirks, “Trust me, it’s right up there. Both of them, head over heels, and all for the same girl.”
Your curiosity piqued, you edge closer, feigning interest in a nearby tire. “Who is it?” You wonder internally, trying to think of any new female team members or journalists that might have caught their eye.
Paolo, clearly enjoying the gossip, leans in, “You think she has any idea?”
Antonio shakes his head, “Nope. She’s completely in the dark. It’s actually kind of adorable how clueless she is.”
You bite your lip, even more intrigued. “Who could it be?” You muse.
Deciding to join in the speculation, you casually approach, “Hey, what’s this I’m hearing about someone making our drivers lose their heads?”
Both men look up, surprised to see you so close. Antonio stammers, “Oh, hey Y/N. Just, um, some silly paddock rumors.”
Paolo, trying to divert the topic, adds, “You know how it is. People love making up stories.”
You nod, playing along, “Of course. But, come on, spill. Who’s the lucky girl? Anyone I know?”
Antonio and Paolo exchange glances, trying to gauge how much to reveal. Antonio finally speaks, “Let’s just say she’s someone who is always around but seems to be missing all the signs.”
You laugh, “Sounds like she’s got her head in the clouds. I can’t wait to find out who she is.”
Paolo grins, “Oh, it’ll come out eventually. These things always do.”
***
The meet-and-greet in Maranello is packed to the brim. Fans from all over the world have gathered to meet their favorite drivers and the team uniform you’re wearing means you’ve gathered a considerable crowd around you too.
As you sign autographs and chat with fans, you notice a group of them exchanging knowing glances and excited whispers.
“Y/N,” one brave fan begins, “we’ve got a question for you.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Sure, fire away.”
The fan clears their throat, “We’ve been following you and the drivers closely, and, well, we couldn’t help but notice something.”
You exchange a curious look with them, “Notice what?”
Another fan chimes in, “You see, Charles and Carlos, they ... they seem to be really close, you know, off the track.”
You nod, “Yeah, they’re good friends.”
A third fan interjects, ‘It’s more than that, though. We think they’re totally into someone.”
You chuckle, thinking they’re just indulging in the typical gossip. “Well, they are both very passionate about racing if that’s what you mean.”
The fans exchange disappointed glances. “She really doesn’t get it,” one of them whispers.
But they’re not giving up that easily. Another fan seems to have a plan. “Okay, Y/N, hypothetical scenario. What if these two drivers were in a race not for points but for something else?”
You’re intrigued, “What do you mean?”
The fan grins, “Imagine if they were trying to win someone’s heart and that someone is right here, oblivious to it all.”
You laugh, amused by their playful scenario. “That would be quite the competition.”
They exchange triumphant glances, “Exactly! So, who do you think this lucky person is?”
You shrug, genuinely not knowing who they’re referring to, “I have no idea. Probably some lucky girl out there.”
The fans let out an exaggerated groan, “She really has no clue.”
Another fan leans in, conspiratorial, “What if we told you that this lucky person is not some random girl but someone they work closely with?”
“What do you mean?”
The fans exchange sly grins, “We mean, what if the person they’re vying for is ... you?”
Your eyes widen in surprise and you laugh, thinking they’re just pulling your leg, “Me? That’s crazy. They’re just my friends.”
The fans share a look of exasperation and one of them sighs, “She’s hopeless.”
***
“Alright, everyone, gather around! Intervention time!” Your father announces, drawing you into the center of the group of staff that were gathered on the first floor of the Ferrari motorhome.
You look around, bewildered. “What’s going on?”
Paolo, chuckling, pats your shoulder, “You’ve got the observational skills of a goldfish.”
You pout, “Hey! I notice things.”
Antonio snorts, “Oh, really? Do you recall Monaco? During the team photo?”
You nod, confused, “Yeah, we were all there.”
Antonio grins, “Carlos was standing right next to you. Instead of giving a thumbs-up like everyone else, he made a heart sign with his hands right behind you. Literally, right behind your head.”
Eyes wide, you protest, “He did?”
Your father chimes in, “And remember in Silverstone? When you lost that bracelet your mother gave you?”
You nod, “Yes, I was devastated.”
He continues, “Charles spent the entire night searching for it. He found it at 3 am and then hand-delivered it to your room.”
Antonio adds, chuckling, “Wearing those ridiculous race car pajamas, I might add.”
You blink, processing the information, “I thought I just dropped it while getting dressed ...”
Paolo, shaking his head in amusement, recounts, “During the team BBQ, Carlos grilled those vegetarian sausages especially for you. Remember wondering why we had them?”
Your cheeks turn a shade redder, “I just thought he was being considerate for the vegetarians on the team.”
Your father laughs, “We don’t have any other vegetarians on the team, darling.”
Antonio recalls another incident, “In Spain, during that heatwave? Charles, out of nowhere, had a mini fan delivered to you. Said it was team equipment.”
You gasp, “That was him?”
Paolo, grinning, continues, “Ever wonder who leaves those freshly peeled oranges on your desk every race day? That’s Carlos’ handiwork.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “But … why?”
Your father steps forward, placing a comforting arm around you, “Sweetheart, it’s because they’re both completely smitten with you. And while it’s entertaining for us to watch, it’s also driving the entire team bonkers with every passing day that you don’t realize.”
You look around, taking in the nodding heads and amused expressions, “I ... I had no idea.”
Antonio chuckles, “Clearly.”
Paolo adds, “It’s like watching a rom-com unfold right before our eyes, only you seem to have missed the entire plot.”
You laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck, “Okay, maybe I’ve been a bit oblivious.”
Your father smirks, “A bit oblivious? That’s like saying Ferrari is known for being a bit red.”
Antonio gives you a friendly pat on the back, “Welcome to the real race, Y/N. Buckle up.”
***
Carlos clears his throat, his usual confidence replaced with a rare nervousness, “Y/N, can we talk? Like, really talk?”
You drop what you’re doing, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
Charles, appearing from the shadows, adds, “Actually, I’d like to be part of this conversation as well.”
You’re taken aback. “Alright, you both have my attention.”
Carlos begins, running his fingers through his hair, “You know, racing isn’t just about speed. It’s about timing, making the right move at the right moment.”
Charles nods in agreement, “Sometimes, you wait too long and the opportunity passes you by.”
You squint, trying to decipher their cryptic words, “Are we talking about racing or ...?”
Carlos exhales deeply, “This isn’t about racing. This is about ... us. You, me, Charles.”
Charles interjects, his gaze intense, “It’s about feelings. Ones that have been growing and evolving.”
You swallow, your heart pounding, “I think I know where this is going.”
Carlos, his voice laced with vulnerability, confesses, “Every time I do something hoping it will make you smile, every time I go out of my way just to be near you ... it’s not just because of friendship.”
Charles adds, “And every gesture, every moment we’ve shared, it’s been my way of trying to show you how I feel.”
Your eyes well up with emotion, “I ... I gained an inkling just recently but I still wasn’t sure.”
Carlos takes a deep breath, “We’re not just talking about individual feelings here. What we’re trying to say is we both care for you and we’ve discussed it. We both want to be with you and for the three of us to explore this ... together.”
Charles nods, “We want to navigate this track as a trio. If you’re willing.”
Carlos steps closer, his eyes searching yours, “We just needed you to know. Whatever you decide, we’ll respect it.”
Charles nods, “Just ... take your time. We’re here, no matter what.”
You take a deep breath, “I need some time to think, to process all of this.”
Carlos offers a soft smile, “Of course, Y/N. We understand.”
Charles gently places a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll wait, however long it takes. Your feelings matter to us. You matter to us.”
***
“Safety car deployed, safety car deployed!” The voice over the radio jolts you into high alert.
“What happened?” You ask anxiously, watching the large screen that displays the race.
Your father’s voice shakes slightly, “Multi-car collision at Turn 4. I can’t see which cars are involved yet.”
Your heart races, thinking of Charles and Carlos. “Please, let them be okay.”
Paolo, eyes glued to the live feed, mutters, “This looks bad.”
The images on the screen show plumes of smoke and debris scattered across the track. The safety car slows the procession of vehicles and you can see marshals running toward the crash site.
Suddenly, Charles comes on the radio, sounding strained but intact, “I’m okay but Carlos ... I can’t see Carlos.”
A weight settles in your stomach. Panic floods your veins. “Please, no.”
His race engineer’s voice cracks with urgency, “Carlos, if you can hear me please respond.”
What feels like hours pass but in reality it’s only seconds before Carlos’ shaky voice breaks through, “I’m here ... I’m okay. Got a bit shaken but I’m fine.”
You slump in relief, tears pricking your eyes. The reality of how precious life is and how quickly things can change hits you like a tidal wave.
Once the chaos subsides and both Charles and Carlos are confirmed safe, you rush out to the pits, needing to see them with your own eyes.
Charles, spotting you first, rushes over, his race suit smeared with dirt and sweat. Without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace, the tension and relief palpable between you two.
Carlos joins, wrapping his arms around both of you, his breathing still slightly labored from the shock.
You pull away, tears streaming down your face, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Carlos musters up a hint of a smirk, “Didn’t plan to, trust me.”
Charles adds softly, looking deep into your eyes, “It makes you realize what’s really important.”
You nod, your decision clear. The events of the day, combined with the confessions of the previous week, cement your feelings. “Life is short. Too short not to be with who you care about.”
Carlos raises an eyebrow, “Does that mean ...?”
You smile, nodding, “Yes. I want to be with both of you. We’ll figure it all out together.”
***
“France in winter is so enchanting,” Carlos muses as you all stroll through the snow-covered streets of your hometown, having flown there right after the end of the season.
You laugh, “You should see it in spring.”
Charles wraps one an arm around your waist and the other around Carlos, “With you as our guide, I’m sure every season is beautiful.”
The moment you all step into your family home, the familiar smell of your favorite dish wafts through the air. “Ah, maman’s coq au vin!” You exclaim.
Carlos looks intrigued, “What’s that?”
“It’s a traditional French chicken stew,” Charles explains, revealing his fondness for it too.
At the dinner table, your father raises a toast, “To family, old and new.” It’s a nod to Charles and Carlos, welcoming them into the fold.
Throughout the night, more wine is poured and stories are exchanged. Heading about your childhood misadventures makes Carlos chuckle and Charles smirk as your mother brings out the photo album no matter how much you beg her to save you the embarrassment.
Your grandmother pulls you aside and whispers, “It’s beautiful, cherie, how the heart can expand to make room for more love.”
***
Next stop: Monaco. Before you can even ring the doorbell to Charles’ family home, Lorenzo swings it open, his grin wide. “Ah! The infamous new trio. We’ve heard so much about you.”
You laugh, “All good things, I hope?”
Arthur, joining Lorenzo at the doorway, smirks, “Mostly just about how our dear Charles here can’t stop talking about you.”
Charles rolls his eyes, a hint of red tinting his cheeks. “Can we not start with the teasing five seconds in?”
Carlos chuckles, elbowing Charles lightly, “It’s what brothers are for, right?”
Lorenzo nods, winking at you, “Oh, absolutely. You should’ve seen Charles when he was younger. Always getting into mischief.”
Arthur, with a gleeful glint in his eyes, adds, “Remember that time with the go-kart?”
Charles groans, “Do we really have to bring that up now?”
“Oh, but now I’m curious.”
Lorenzo, not missing a beat, narrates, “Our dear Charles decided to modify his go-kart engine. Let’s just say it ended up in the neighbor’s pool.”
Carlos bursts into laughter, “I wish I’d seen that!”
At one point, when Charles steps out to take a call, Lorenzo leans in, “In all seriousness, we haven’t seen Charles this happy in a long time.”
Arthur nods in agreement, “Whatever you two are doing, keep it up. It’s good for him.”
***
The three of you touch down in Spain to ring in the New Year. The evening is filled with laughter, traditional music, and the tantalizing aroma of home-cooked meals. As midnight approached, Carlos’ mother brings out individual bowls filled with glistening grapes.
“You know about the Spanish tradition, right?” Carlos asks.
You shake your head.
Carlos explains, “At the stroke of midnight, for every chime of the clock, you eat a grape. Twelve chimes, twelve grapes. It’s said to bring good luck for the coming year.”
You chuckle, eyeing the bowl, “Sounds easy enough.”
It was not easy.
The first chime rings out and everyone pops a grape into their mouth. By the fourth chime, you’re struggling, laughter bubbling up around a mouthful of the fruit as you desperately try to keep up.
Charles, equally struggling, shoots you a wide-eyed look, grapes nearly falling out of his mouth.
Carlos, on the other hand, seems to have mastered the art, smoothly munching away, though his eyes reveal his suppressed laughter.
As the twelfth chime rings out, you finally manage to swallow the mouthful, gasping for breath air rounded by the hearty laughter of Carlos’ family.
Carlos’ father claps you and Charles on the back, “Well done! You two are practically Spanish now.”
You laugh, wiping away a tear, “I think I’ll need a few more years of practice.”
Carlos grins, wrapping an arm around you, “Don’t worry, we will have many more New Years for you to perfect it.”
***
The sun casts a golden hue on the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore. Your feet are buried in the soft sand and you lean back, enjoying the feeling of warmth on your skin.
Taking a moment to appreciate the surroundings, you sigh, “The view is so breathtaking.”
Charles, reclining beside you with sunglasses perched atop his head, follows your gaze. His eyes, however, are not on the horizon but on Carlos, who’s emerging from the water, droplets glistening on his toned body. Without missing a beat, Charles replies flirtatiously, “Yes, he definitely is.”
Carlos laughs as he approaches, water dripping from him, “You two are impossible.”
You smirk, “Well, can you blame him? You do look quite ... impressive."
Carlos, towel now draped around his neck, grins, “Is that so? Maybe I should spend more time at the beach then.”
Charles mock pouts, “And less time with your car?”
Carlos pretends to think about it, “Tough choice. But I think I can find a balance.”
***
“Look who’s back and glowing!” Paolo greets as the three of you walk into the paddock together for pre-season testing.
Antonio joins in the teasing, “Carlos, you’ve got that sun-kissed tan going on and Charles ... did you forget the sunscreen again?”
Charles laughs sheepishly, touching his slightly reddened nose, “Apparently, I just burn.”
Carlos smirks, “We tried but some people are just destined to be crispy.”
You laugh, nudging Carlos, “Don’t be mean. But … we did have that one day when he turned a shade that matched the Ferrari.”
***
“Here’s to the dream team!” Antonio raises his champagne flute, his eyes shimmering under the bright lights of the party.
Charles, holding his second-place trophy, grins, nudging Carlos who’s proudly holding his first-place one. “Feels pretty good to have another double podium, doesn’t it?”
Carlos laughs, “Only because I’m one step higher!”
“Hey! It was the other way around last weekend,” Charles pretends to sulk.
You roll your eyes playfully, “Children, children. Share your toys nicely.”
Paolo chimes in, “It’s not just about the podium finishes. The energy this season ... it’s been different, more vibrant.”
Charles takes a moment, his gaze flitting between Carlos and you. “Well, happiness does tend to have that effect.”
Carlos wraps an arm around you both, pulling you close. “I couldn’t have said it better.”
***
“You would think that after all these years, I’d have gotten the hang of it,” your father laments, eyeing the bowl of freshly washed grapes in front of him.
Carlos’ mother laughs, patting his arm, “You’ll do just fine this time, Fred. We’ve all been practicing.”
Charles smirks, glancing at his brothers, “Oh, trust me, they’ve turned it into a competitive sport. Last year, Lorenzo managed to eat an extra grape by mistake!”
Lorenzo rolls his eyes, “One time! And I blame Arthur for distracting me.”
“Okay, it’s almost time,” Carlos says. “Remember, the key is not to rush.”
You chuckle, “Says the man who’s been acing this since he was a kid.”
Carlos winks, “Natural talent.”
The clock begins to chime, marking the impending arrival of the New Year. Everyone takes their positions, holding their grapes, waiting for the signal.
As each chime rings out, laughter fills the room. The past mishaps with the grapes only make the current attempt all the more entertaining.
When the twelfth chime fades, everyone erupts in cheers. Even your father, much to his delight, has successfully completed it in time.
Charles wraps an arm around you, “Another year, another challenge conquered.”
Carlos steps up to kiss both of you, tasting distinctly of grape, “With many more to come.”
You smile, looking around at the blending of families, the fusion of traditions, and the love that fills the room. “I can’t wait to spend every New Year together with you for the rest of our lives.”
Summary: you do everything in your power to make your sick son’s dream come true but what you don’t realize is that meeting his hero will change all of your lives forever
Warnings: terminal illness and death
“You know what would be the coolest, Mama?” The soft voice of your son, Luca, breaks through the silence of the hospital room.
You brush a stray hair from his forehead, trying to coax a smile onto your face despite the weight in your chest. “What’s that, sweetheart?”
“To meet Charles Leclerc. Just once. To tell him he’s my hero.” Luca’s eyes, though tired, gleam with that familiar spark every time he talks about Formula 1.
Your heart aches, knowing how much this means to him. “He is pretty amazing on the track, isn’t he?” You respond, reminiscing about the countless races you’ve both watched together from this very room.
Luca nods, holding his toy race car, a replica of Charles’ Ferrari. “Yeah, but it’s not just that. He never gives up, even when things get tough. Kinda like me.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, making you marvel at his resilience.
You pull him close, tears threatening to spill. “You’re my hero too,” you whisper, kissing his temple.
He snuggles closer, murmuring, “I just wish I could meet him, Mama. Tell him he gives me strength.”
You take a deep breath, new resolve settling in. “You never know, my love. Miracles happen.”
The determination you feel is like a roaring fire and you silently vow to make Luca’s dream come true. No matter what it takes.
***
As the evening shadows stretch across the hospital room, you find yourself deep in thought, racking your brain for any means to make Luca’s wish a reality. You think about reaching out on social media, starting a campaign, anything to catch Charles Leclerc’s attention.
You start by posting on your personal pages: a heartfelt message accompanied by a picture of Luca holding his toy race car, the walls of his room adorned with posters of Charles racing. #LucaMeetsLeclerc, you caption it, hoping against hope that the message reaches the right eyes and ears.
The following days are a whirlwind. Friends, family, and even strangers share the post, and the hashtag starts trending in your community. Messages of support flood in and local news channels express interest in Luca’s battle.
One evening, after reading Luca a bedtime story, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s an email from a name you don’t recognize but the subject line sends your heart racing: A Special Meeting.
Opening it hastily, your eyes skim over the words:
Dear Y/N,
I represent Charles Leclerc. We were deeply moved by Luca’s story and would like to arrange a meeting ...
Tears blur your vision and you can’t help but let out a soft sob of relief and joy. Luca, hearing your cry, looks up at you with curious eyes. “Mama? What’s wrong?”
You pull him into a tight embrace, trying to convey all the love and happiness you feel. “Sweetie,” you whisper, pulling back to meet his gaze, “I think your dream might just come true.”
Luca’s eyes widen and his smile lights up the room brighter than any lamp ever could. The journey to fulfill a lifelong dream has just begun.
***
The hospital room feels heavier than usual. The rhythmic beeping of monitors fills the silence as Luca plays absent-mindedly with his race car on the bed. Just as you are about to suggest a card game, a knock interrupts the monotony.
“Come in,” you call softly.
The door opens and to your astonishment, Charles Leclerc himself steps inside, a shy smile gracing his features. He seemed different than on the TV — more human, more vulnerable.
“Ciao, Luca,” Charles greets, his voice gentle.
Luca’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping. “You ... you’re real.”
Charles chuckles, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Last time I checked, I am. Your mom tells me you’re quite the fan.”
Luca nods vigorously. “You’re my hero. When you race, I feel like I’m flying. Free from this …” He gestures vaguely at the hospital equipment surrounding him.
Charles’ eyes soften. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. But, you know, you’re a hero too. Racing against challenges every day.”
You watch their interaction, touched by Charles’ genuine empathy. “Thank you for coming. It ... it means the world.”
Charles turns to you, a depth of understanding in his eyes. “When I read about Luca, I saw more than just a fan. I saw a fighter. Just like on the track, it’s the fights we don’t see that often matter most.”
There is a brief silence, filled with unsaid emotions.
Luca’s voice, trembling with emotion, breaks the quiet. “I have a question, Charles. How do you stay brave even when you’re scared?”
Charles takes a moment before responding. “I focus on the present. Fear often comes from thinking about what might happen. But in the moment, there’s a job to do, a race to finish.”
Luca looks thoughtful. “So, you mean I should focus on now and not think about ... later?”
Charles nods, placing a comforting hand on Luca’s. “Exactly. Live in the now and remember that every race has its challenges. It’s how we face them that defines us.”
Tears well up in your eyes, gratitude and admiration for Charles swelling within you. Here he was, not just a racing star but a beacon of strength for your son.
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice choked with emotion.
Charles smiles, glancing between you and Luca. “No, thank you. Today, I met a true champion.”
***
“You know,” Charles begins, playing with the edges of the signed Ferrari cap he just gifted Luca, “I once met a kid, a bit older than you, at a race. He told me that every time he felt like giving up, he’d watch one of our races. Said it gave him hope."
Luca’s fingers trace the signature on the cap. “Is that why you race? For people like him ... and me?”
Charles leans back, gazing out the window for a moment. “Partly. But also for myself. Racing ... it’s my passion, my escape. It’s where I find my strength.”
You feel compelled to share your own perspective. “We all have our races, don’t we? For Luca, it’s here, fighting every day. For me, it's trying to be strong for him, even when I feel like falling apart.”
Charles looks at you intently. “It’s incredible the strength we find when it’s for someone we love. Your journey, your race, is just as important — is more important — than any I’ve been on.”
Touched by his words, you continue, “I watch you race. The precision, the dedication. It’s art. I want Luca to have something like that, something to pour his heart into.”
Luca chimes in, his voice soft, “I think I already have something. Watching races with Mama, it’s our thing. It helps me forget, even if just for a while.”
Charles leans forward, engaging Luca directly. “Then let’s make a promise. You keep fighting your race here and I'll keep racing out there. Deal?”
Luca’s smile is radiant. “Deal.”
There is a pause, a moment of reflection, before Charles turns to you. “You're an incredible mother. The strength you show, the love ... it’s palpable. And it reminds me so much of my own maman.”
You blink away tears. “We do what we have to for our children.”
He nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “She would always say the same thing after losing my father. And sometimes, despite all the pain and struggle, we find connections, kindred spirits, who remind us we’re not alone.”
You smile, feeling a deep bond forming, not just between Luca and Charles but between two souls who understood the depth of love, sacrifice, and hope.
***
“I have a proposition,” Charles offers, the twinkle in his eyes belying the gravity of his words.
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”
“How would you both feel about attending a race in-person? I can make sure Luca is comfortable and you both get the full VIP experience.”
Luca’s face lights up with hope and disbelief. “Really? I ... I’d get to see you race in real life?”
Charles nods, “Right from the best seat in the paddock.”
You hesitate, considering the logistics, the health implications. “I don’t know. It’s a beyond generous offer but Luca’s health …”
Charles raise a hand, preempting your concerns. “I’ve thought about that. We have top medical facilities at the track and I’ll make sure we have everything necessary for Luca.”
“You’d do that for us?” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in.
Charles leans forward, sincerity evident in his gaze. “I’ve won races, stood on podiums. But the race Luca is running, the courage he’s showing ... it’s unmatched. I want him to see a race, not just as a spectator but as a fellow racer.”
Luca looks up, eyes brimming with tears. “You make it sound like I’m a hero. But I’m just trying to get by, just trying to ... to live.”
“And that’s what makes you a hero,” Charles replies gently. “Facing adversity and pushing through, not because of fame or accolades but because of love, hope, and sheer will.”
You feel a lump in your throat, deeply moved by Charles’ words. “It’s not just race wins or trophies that make you a champion, Charles. It’s moments like this. Thank you. This means more than words can say.”
He smiles, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “In the grand scheme of things, life is the most important race. And in that race, I’ve found two champions right here.”
***
In Monza, as you settle into the VIP area with Luca by your side, the excitement in the air is overwhelming in the best way possible. The roar of the engines, the sea of red flags, the bustling energy of the crowd — it is a sensory overload that fills Luca’s eyes with wonder.
“Monza is special, you know,” Charles whispers, kneeling next to Luca’s wheelchair, overlooking the historic Italian track. He slips off a red Ferrari bracelet from his wrist, its well-worn leather showing its age. “This was given to me when I first joined Ferrari. I like to think that it’s brought me luck ever since.”
Luca’s eyes widen, tracing the intricacies of the bracelet. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Charles smiles, “Today, I want you to hold onto my luck. Keep it safe for me, will you?”
Nodding fervently, Luca reverently holds the bracelet. “I promise.”
When Charles leaves to prepare for the race, Luca clutches the Ferrari bracelet to his heart. “Mama, did you see? He gave this to me. His lucky bracelet!”
You smile, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. He wants you to keep it safe. It’s a piece of his heart.”
As the race progresses, you both watch in awe as Charles’ navigates the twists and turns of the circuit. Your heart races with every lap, both as a fan and as someone who had come to know the man behind the helmet.
And then, the moment you’d never forget — a triumphant finish, Charles Leclerc taking the checkered flag. The Tifosi erupts into cheers, and during the celebration, you almost swear that Charles’ eyes find yours among the crowd.
Over the radio, his voice crackles through the airwaves, reaching not just the pits but into your very soul. “This one’s for Luca. Keep fighting, champ.”
Luca’s eyes widen, his hand clutching the bracelet even tighter. “Did you hear, Mama? He said it for me!”
Tears well up in your eyes as you nod. “Yes, sweetheart. He said it for you.”
The post-race interview is a blur of emotions. Charles, sweaty and exhilarated, is asked about the race, about his victory. But then he pauses, his gaze distant yet focused, his voice trembling with emotion.
“This win ... it’s for someone very special. A young friend of mine named Luca. He’s fighting a battle much tougher than any race and his spirit, his courage — it’s what carried me through today. Luca, this is all for you.”
***
The roar of the crowd has faded but the emotional high from the race lingers. You, Luca, and Charles head back to the hotel provided by Ferrari with laughter and memories of the day filling the conversation.
However, as the night passes by, a chilling silence envelopes the room. Luca’s breathing becomes shallow, his skin clammy. Panic bubbles up within you. The medical equipment that was always close by in the hospital is absent here.
You rush to his side, your hands trembling as you try to comfort him. “Luca, honey, stay with me. Breathe.”
Charles, witnessing the scene, feels a deep pang of fear and helplessness. “I’ll call for help,” he says, fumbling for his phone.
As you count the seconds for first responders to arrive, Luca’s weak hand reaches out, clutching Charles’ wrist. His voice, barely a whisper, shares a desperate plea. “Charles, if ... if I don’t make it, promise me you’ll look after Mama. She’s strong but she'll need someone.”
Charles, tears blurring his vision, nods, squeezing Luca’s hand reassuringly. “I promise. But you’re a fighter. You have to keep racing, okay?”
Luca manages a faint smile. “Always racing, Charles. Always.”
Emergency services arrive soon, the room transforms into a flurry of medical professionals and machines. Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched, praying for a miracle.
Hours feel like lifetimes. When the medical team finally manages to stabilize Luca, the emotional toll is evident in every face in the room.
You approach Luca’s bedside, gently stroking his forehead. “You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart.”
Luca, though exhausted, manages a faint smirk. “Had to keep the race interesting, right?”
Charles, his voice choked with emotion, adds, “Every race has its challenges, remember? You faced this one head-on, just like a true champion.”
Luca’s eyes meet Charles’ own, a depth of understanding passing between them. “Remember your promise,” he whispers.
Charles nods, his gaze drifting to you. “Always.”
***
“You know, I’ve seen some tough races,” Charles begins, his gaze distant, “but nothing compares to what I witnessed last night. The strength, the love, the sheer determination.”
You sigh, exhaustion stamped across your face. “Every day is a race. Some days, the finish line feels close, other days it feels miles away.”
Charles takes a deep breath, his voice wavering slightly, “I ... I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through but I want to be there, for both of you. Luca asked me to look after you and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”
You look up, surprised by the depth of his commitment. “You’ve done so much already. You’ve given Luca memories he will cherish forever.”
He moves closer, his eyes searching yours. “It’s not just about Luca. It’s about you too. Through this entire ordeal, the strength you’ve shown, the love … it’s made me see life in a different light.”
A silence envelopes the room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Luca.
“I’ve raced all over the world,” Charles whispers, “but I’ve never met someone who’s touched my heart the way you both have. I want to be there for you, for whatever you need.”
You blink back tears, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “It’s been so long since someone offered to share the load. I’m not sure I know how to let someone in anymore.”
Charles gently takes your hand. “One step at a time. Just like in a race. We face each challenge as it comes, together.”
A tear escapes, trailing down your cheek. “Thank you, Charles.”
He brushes the tear away, his touch lingering. “No, thank you. For letting me be a part of your world and for showing me what real strength looks like.”
***
“Look at that,” Luca murmurs, pointing towards the sunset painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The three of you sit atop a hill overlooking the city, a picnic blanket spread beneath you.
Charles takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. “You know, moments like this make me appreciate life even more. The simple joys, the beauty all around.”
You nod, taking in the serene view. “It’s easy to get caught up in the chaos and forget these moments exist.”
Luca’s eyes shimmer with a mix of mischief and wisdom beyond his years. “You two sound like philosophers. All I know is that this sandwich tastes amazing.”
You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Always living in the moment, aren’t you?”
He grins. “That's the secret, Mama. We have to savor every bite, every sunset, every laugh.”
Charles, deeply moved, joins in. “You're right, Luca. In the races, I’ve learned that every second counts. It’s the same with life.”
Luca nods earnestly. “Exactly! You can’t rewind time. You can only enjoy it.”
The evening wears on with laughter, stories, and shared dreams. The three of you revel in the simplicity of the moment frozen in time.
As stars begin to sprinkle the night sky, Luca turns to Charles, a serious expression on his face. “Promise me something?”
Charles leans in, listening intently. “Anything.”
“Make more moments like this with Mama, even after ...” Luca's voice trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.
Charles squeezes Luca’s hand, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, champ. Moments full of love, laughter, and sunsets.”
Luca’s watery laugh has tears pooling in your eyes. “You know, when you look at the sunset, remember me. Remember this moment.”
You turn to him, tears now overflowing. “Luca …”
He smiles, a mixture of melancholy and contentment in his gaze. “I may not be here forever but I'll always be a part of these sunsets. A part of you.”
Charles, his voice a gentle whisper, adds, “And a part of me.”
***
“Mama?” Luca’s voice, frail and delicate like the gossamer wing of a butterfly, quivers with fear.
You lean in closer, grasping his hand between both of yours, heart heavy. “Yes, my love?”
He swallows hard, searching your eyes with his own clouded ones. “I’m scared, Mama. I don’t want to go.”
Tears blur your vision but you muster a brave smile for him. “I know, sweetheart. But remember our sunsets? Sometimes, the sun has to set to make way for a new dawn.”
Luca’s fingers weakly grip yours. “But what if it’s dark, Mama? What if it hurts? What if I’m all alone?”
Charles, unable to remain a silent spectator, interjects, his voice cracking with emotion. “You won’t be. It will be just like falling asleep. You’ll have the sunsets, the memories, and all the love we’ve shared. That light will never fade. We will always be here. I promise.”
Luca’s eyes shimmer with tears but also a glimmer of hope. “Will you sing for me, Mama? The song from when I was small?”
Your heart breaks, remembering the countless nights you’d sung him to sleep. Taking a deep breath, you begin, your voice soft and lulling:
“You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine,
You make me happy
When skies are gray ...”
Luca’s breathing slows, his grip on your hand loosening.
“You’ll never know, dear,
How much I love you,
Please don’t take
My sunshine away.”
As the final note leaves your lips, Luca’s chest rises gently one last time, then stills. The room is silent, save for your heart-wrenching sobs.
Charles steps closer, wrapping his arms around you as you crumple into him, your world shattering. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, tears streaming down both your faces.
***
The somber quiet of the funeral is punctuated by the soft cries of mourners. The backdrop of gentle flowers contrast starkly with the weight of the grief in the air.
Charles stands next to you, holding a polished helmet, the vibrant colors of his Monza race-winning headgear gleaming under the sun. He turns to face you, eyes red-rimmed.
“This,” he starts, voice choked, “is my helmet from Monza. The race we won together. He was my co-driver that day, in spirit.”
You take a shaky breath, reaching out to touch the helmet, feeling its cool surface, the memories of that day flooding back. “He would’ve been so proud to have this.”
Charles nods, tears streaming down his face. “And this,” he says, taking the Ferrari bracelet off his wrist, “he held onto it for me once. I ... I want him to have it. To keep it safe.”
You clutch the bracelet, feeling its familiar weight, the leather still warm from Charles’ wrist. “It meant the world to him. And to me. Thank you.”
The two of you stand side by side, staring at the small casket adorned with flowers and memories. The embodiment of a life cut short but filled with love and unforgettable moments.
Together, you place the helmet and bracelet inside, a final tribute to a young racer whose journey had inspired so many.
“He’s free now,” Charles whispers, his voice barely audible. “Racing in the skies, no pain, no limits.”
You nod, tears flowing freely. “Our little champion, forever.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, both of you finding solace in each other’s warmth. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves, carrying with it the memories of a brave soul, forever remembered, forever missed.
***
The familiar crest of the hill looms ahead, the very spot where laughter and dreams once danced in the wind. You and Charles reach the top, the vast expanse of the horizon stretching out before you. The setting sun casts a golden hue, much like that unforgettable evening a year ago.
Charles lays down a blanket, reminiscent of that day, and the two of you sit, lost in memories. The silence isn’t empty — it’s filled with remembrance of a young boy’s laughter, his dreams, his courage. The hole he left behind in your hearts.
“Do you ever feel,” Charles hesitantly cuts through the quiet, “that Luca is still here with us, watching these sunsets?”
A tear slips down your cheek. “All the time. Every time I close my eyes under the setting sun or look up at the sky, I feel his presence.”
Charles takes a deep breath, struggling with his emotions. “I’ve been thinking about a way to honor Luca. To keep his spirit alive.”
You turn to him, eyes questioning.
“A foundation,” Charles begins, “In Luca’s name. To help children with terminal illnesses and their families. To give them hope, love, memories.”
You feel a rush of emotion, a tidal wave of love and loss. “He would have loved that. To know he’s making a difference even now.”
Charles nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not just about the financial help. It’s about the moments, the memories. The sunsets and the picnics. The dreams and the hopes.”
You intertwine your fingers with his, drawing strength from the bond you’ve forged. “We’ll do it together. For Luca.”
The sun slowly dips below the horizon. As the first star appears, a sense of peace envelops the two of you. In the heart of sorrow, a new purpose is born, ensuring that Luca’s light continues to shine, guiding countless souls out of the darkness.
***
The sun sets in a blaze of colors, casting a warm glow over the hill that has become a symbolic memorial. Charles and you sit side-by-side, hand-in-hand, watching the bittersweet horizon.
A small voice breaks through the silence. “Mama, Papa, why do we come here?”
You turn to your daughter, a smile tugging at your lips. Lucia, with her curious eyes and radiant smile, is a constant reminder of love and life renewed.
“We come here to remember someone very special,” Charles explains gently, his eyes, so similar to your daughter’s, filled with tenderness.
Lucia looks at you both, a hint of understanding in her innocent gaze. “Luca?”
You nod, voice soft. “Yes, sweetheart. Your big brother. We come here to celebrate him, to tell stories about him, and to show him how much we love him.”
Lucia frowns slightly. “But I never got to meet him.”
You stroke her hair, your heart aching and swelling simultaneously. “He’s always with us, in our hearts. Just like you are.”
Charles leans down, wiping away a tear that escapes your eye. “And you’re named Lucia after him, to carry his memory forward.”
Lucia’s eyes light up, smile shining bright. “I’m like a part of him?”
“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “A part of him lives on in you. In all of us.”
As the sun dips below the horizon, bathing the world in twilight, you hold each other tightly, a family united by love, loss, and the enduring spirit of a young boy whose legacy lives on in every sunset, every star, and every beat of your hearts.
Summary: After the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/n wants to do something nice for her successful boyfriend, but she quickly finds out her kind gesture means a lot more to him than what she expected.
Warnings: nada, just a little internalized gender stereotyping
Word Count: 736
Note: Something quick for Lando while I write an Oscar Piastri imagine and another for Lando 💗💗
It wasn’t something Y/n gave much thought to. They had just gotten back from the Silverstone Grand Prix and, while Lando took a shower, she ran out to get food at the store. Usually the two would go out to party and what not, but, after a long weekend emotionally and physically, they had decided on cooking in the AirBnb for a slow, quiet night. Nonetheless, whilst she gathered ingredients for the chicken pasta she planned on making, Y/n passed the wide variety of fresh smelling bouquets the store had. She hesitated for a moment, wondering for just a split second if he would like them, but, ultimately, understood that it was a sweet gesture, so why not?
After that, she picked up the big bouquet of orange tulips and white daisies, and gave no more thinking space to it. She just propped them up in the cart and went on with her day.
Getting back to the rental, she opened the front door and shimmied through as she tried to balance the groceries in her hands. As if on cue, Lando turned the corner, black t-shirt clinging to his torso and biceps as his gray sweatpants hung low on his hips.
His eyebrows shot up at her struggling, “Baby! Let me help!” He said quickly as he took the multiple bags in her arms, leaving the bouquet in her hands.
Lando’s eyes lingered on the flowers clenched in her fist, confusion on his face as he set the bags down on the counter, “Why did you get flowers? We’re leaving this place tomorrow?”
Y/n giggled at her boyfriend’s misconception, “No, love, they aren’t for the house. They’re for you!”
It was safe to say that Lando’s confusion deepened as he turned his body fully to her and leaned his hip against the granite, “What do you mean?”
She walked closer to him, meeting him at the counter before wrapping her arms around his middle, “Yes! For you! Because you did so good today. I’m so proud of you, Lan.”
With her arms hugging him and the bright orange flowers she was pushing into his chest, Lando was at a loss for words. Never had it crossed his mind that when his girlfriend walked in with flowers they would be for him, but, alas, here he was. He opened and closed his mouth as she smiled up at him before he began slowly taking the petals out of her grasp.
Exhaling a breath, Lando stared back into her eyes, “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t expect the intense wave of emotions that overtook him, but he began to tear up at the thoughtful gesture for the person he cherished the most.
Y/n’s thoughts about this being nothing more than just a nice thing to him were quickly crushed at the small tear that flew down his cheek. Her smile faltered as her thumb glided across the wet cheek, “What’s going on? Do you not like them?”
He shook his head aggressively, “No, no, I love them. I- I love you. It’s ju- It’s just I’ve never had anyone get me flowers before. That’s a girl thing.”
She quickly laughed at her boyfriend’s comments as she continued stroking the soft skin of his face, “No, baby, it isn’t a girl thing. It’s an everyone thing. Everyone should get flowers at one point in their life, it’s such a warm thing.”
“Yeah, I’m learning that.” Lando chuckled through his tears. His hand that wasn’t holding the flowers held her waist as he leaned into her. His head fit in the crook of her neck well as he squeezed her tight, not knowing how else to thank her for providing him with a luxury in life he hadn’t even known was just that, a luxury.
She ran her hands through his hair in an attempt to soothe his emotional state which seemed to work as he pulled back slightly to peck her lips, whispering, “Really, though, thank you, my love. I’ve genuinely never felt this seen before. Flowers with an ‘I’m so proud of you’ really makes it feel like you are.”
She kissed him again as he shoved his head into her neck once more, “Well, I am. I’m so so proud of the person you are, the person you are turning out to be, and everything in between.”
Summary; It never fails to amaze the formula one community just how much of a difference there is in Kimi’s attitude whenever his wife is around.
No warnings. Simply fluff.
It was common knowledge in the world of formula one that Kimi 'the iceman' Raikkonen was everything that his nickname implied. He was blunt, hard faced and cold, straight to the point.
There's only a few instances where that guard drops; when he's drunk, caught off guard or sometimes when he's around Sebastien Vettel.
However, everyone knew that the ultimate Icebreaker was his wife.
It amazed everyone how quickly that icy facade melted whenever Kimi was around her, he was a completely different person, the paddock changed when she was around, Kimi was full of soft smiles and loving glances.
They were complete opposites, she was sunshine and spring, he was winter and icy winds but there had never been a pair more suited for each other.
Kimi wasn't due on track for another half an hour so him and Y/N had hidden themselves away on a bench at the far side of the garage. Kimi's back was rested against the wall, his wife sat between his legs, back resting against his chest. His arms were securely wrapped around her, his chin rested on her shoulder, eyeing the data he was holding in his hands.
Every now and then the Finnish man would nuzzle his head into her hair, inhaling the comforting smell of strawberries and a scent that was so uniquely her, followed by a soft kiss on her shoulder before returning back to his data.
Y/N relished in these small moments before races, even though they were surrounded by people running around it always felt like it was just them, alone in the world and they were perfectly content getting lost in each other's presence.
She closed her eyes, relaxing into the love of her life's embrace, she would never take these moments for granted, not when their lives were so hectic, it was relieving to live in a moment like this, to use it as a sort of pause button to take a small but needed break.
'...And there is the golden couple of the paddock, world champion Kimi Raikkonen and his wife, that man looks anything but what we know him as...'
She heard David Croft's voice filter through a nearby radio causing her eyes to open in confusion before she noticed a camera zooming into them from outside of the garage, sure enough they were on the big screen.
She smiled, lightly tapping Kimi's arm to get his attention, he turned his eyes from the papers in his hand to look at her. She pointed to the camera, Kimi looked in that direction, shaking his head with the smallest of smiles when he noticed the camera.
He knew what everyone said about him, how he was a different person when he was with her and they took every chance they could to capture him in a moment with his guard down. He didn't try and deny it because he knew they were right, sort of.
He wasn't a different person with her, he was himself with her, just a softer version of himself that he reserved for family and closest friends.
"Kulta" Kimi whispered 10 minutes later, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "Hmm" she responded, eyes remaining closed, more than relaxed in his arms.
"It's time for me to get in the car" he mumbled into her ear, softly patting her thigh. She sighed but sat forward, standing up from the bench, stretching as she did.
Kimi groaned as he stood, folding the papers into his right hand, reaching out his left to grab hers, leading her over to his car where his engineer stood with his balaclava and helmet in hand. He handed the balaclava to Kimi and helmet to Y/N before walking away, giving them privacy.
Y/N watched as her husband got into his racing mode, his icy-blue eyes turned hard and determined, his body tensed up as he became more focused, strategies running through his mind.
She handed his helmet to him and once he had secured the straps under his chin she stepped closer to him, gently cupping the sides of his head and pressing a loving kiss on the hard material where his lips were covered.
Her hands ran down his arms before eventually reaching his hands that were covered in his gloves, she laced her fingers with his, her eyes never leaving his.
"Win for me" she told him "I love you so much" his eyes shined brighter at her words, his right hand rose to her cheek, his thumb brushed across her skin.
"I love you" she heard his muffled voice repeat back causing her to smile. He stroked her cheek one last time before lowering his hand, releasing her hand from his left and turning to his car.
Once he had climbed inside and checked his radio was working, he was ready to go. He looked towards where Y/N was standing and gave her a thumbs up before the mechanics wheeled him and his car out of the garage.
She walked back over to his side of the garage, sitting in front a screen that would be streaming the race.
There was no greater sight than watching the love of her life living his dream, his heart may beat for her but he was born to race. She had supported him up to this point and would continue to support him until the day he decides to let racing go, even then she would cheer him on in what he decides to do next.
⸺ the one where you go shopping together.
✓ no warnings.
⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed)
⁕ my masterlist and my taglist
Yn makes a U-turn going straight into the lingerie store.
"Babe, I'm shopping for lingeries now, you can...I dunno, go see some shoes or eat something while I dive in here. You can leave all these bags with me too. Are you sure they aren't too heavy?" She blurted, looking at all the shopping bags Mick was carrying.
Earlier that day when she was getting ready to go out and he was lying in bed, Mick asked where she was going and if he could tag along. And when Yn told him she needed some new clothes and shoes, she thought he would dismiss her and choose something fun to do by himself, but he got up and started getting dressed to go with her. Granted, he wasn't having the best time of his life, but he was sure having fun. Being around Yn was enough for him, and plus he got himself some new shirts and pants too.
And of course, Mick is a gentleman, so he was carrying all her bags and following her around like a lost -but happy- puppy. Yn would try every piece and parade them for Mick who would give his honest opinion and even clap and whistle sometimes. They were having fun together, doing something that Yn never thought would be fun for a male partner -that considering all her's and her friends' experiences. However, Mick was different. Mick showed her how love could be. He gave her all his patience, love, affection, and attention. He was honest, and he would make a point of spending time together whenever they could. And now, he wanted to lingerie shop with her.
"I'm coming. Can I come?" he asked, eyebrows creasing in confusion as to why she was being quick to instruct him to leave.
"Yeah- do you really wanna tag along? Aren't you tired of running around the mall?"
Mick chuckled, "Yn, I'm an athlete. Do you really think walking for a bit will take all my energy away?" he questioned and when she opened her mouth he added, "Don't even mention the bags, they lightweight for me."
"Oh- ok, then," she couldn't help but grin, and grab his arm entering the store.
Not only did he watch her, but he helped Yn find her size when she liked on display, he did all the whistling and clapping too, though he had to charm the saleswoman with an autograph so she would let him into the fitting room with Yn. And though Mick saw everything, helped her choose, and paid for it without her noticing -something he had been doing all day-, he still asked for a private show at home just to hype her up.
― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Mick will go shopping with you and not only will he like it, but he'll end up getting stuff for him too. change my mind lol I hope you guys like it! Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment *mwah*
summary: you miss your boyfriend, and he misses you.
request: “You got me flowers and aw did you miss me for Oscar Piastri please?”
warnings: this is very short… but other than that, none
NOTE: first writing for my 2k celly! actually feels unreal that there are 2k of you here…
[ word count: 627 ]
Oscar was often away from your shared flat. His job was demanding, and you understood why. But sometimes the bed felt too cold, or the kitchen too empty.
In every sense your boyfriend was essential to your home, which was why you were very excited for the summer break. It was almost a whole month with Oscar for yourself (of course, his family and friends too).
You didn’t want to be selfish with his attention, but the urge to have him all for yourself was very strong. Nonetheless, you waited up for him to arrive to your shared flat.
It was around one in the morning, his flight had landed a while ago but it wasn’t a quick drive from the airport to where you lived. So, you did your best to remain awake for his arrival despite having an exhausting day yourself. You couldn’t wait to see him.
The minutes ticked by, but finally the lock on your door clicked, and you knew. You knew Oscar was back to you, back in Australia.
You fought the urge to run to him. Too tired to even really muster the thought, but also, he was probably exhausted from the long flight and would not be able to deal with your over excited attitude. And frankly, you didn’t have that much energy left in you.
“Y/N?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was wary of whether you were awake or not.
“Oscar!” You exclaim, pulling yourself up from the couch to properly greet him.
You went to hug him, but was stopped by the bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“You got me flowers?” You asked, grabbing the beautiful set of flowers he had gotten you. The smell made you smile, as you watched his cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink.
“Figured I’d bring something nice,” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I wasn’t really sure which ones to bring so I—”
“They’re perfect.” You cut him off, placing the flowers on the table closest to you.
Oscar relaxes at your words. He puts down some of his bags, and now that his hands are truly free of anything, he takes a moment to properly hug you.
The moment he hugs you, you momentarily forget how much you missed him. You fit perfectly in his arms, his hoodie is soft against your skin and it makes you snuggle further into him. You don’t want to let him go, but neither does he.
A moment goes by, and while you know your boyfriend must be exhausted from the long flight, you don’t let go of him. You cannot bring yourself to pull away, not even when Oscar makes a move to separate himself.
“Aw, did you miss me?” His voice is a melody to your ears, one that you had been deprived of. Video calls and regular calls don’t do justice to the beauty that his voice is, the utter softness his words have when he speaks to you.
“You bet I did.”
“Yeah? Well, I missed you too.” He whispers, like it’s a secret only meant for you to ever hear, “A lot.”
“A lot lot?”
“So much. You have no idea.”
“In that case, you’re not allowed to leave me for a very long time.” You declare, pushing yourself a little bit off him to look him in the eyes. Your words no longer muffled by his hoodie and the way your pressed against him.
“How long?”
“Until you tire of me.”
Oscar smiles fondly at your words, “I don’t think I ever will.”
“Then you’re not ever leaving.” He huffs out a laugh, and you slightly shake from the rumble in his chest.
Hello I wanted to request another single!mom x Fernando fic as your other one is so great! Maybe one where the reader is pregnant (the father of the child left once reader told him she is pregnant) and wherever whenever she meets Nando and he is just enchanted by her not bothered that she is carrying another mans child
A/N: Dad Fernando will be the one to single handedly kill me, I'm not joking
One shot, not second part
He didn't care.
You were 3 months pregnant, and your new boyfriend could care less that you're caring another man's child. To him he just brushed it off saying it doesn't matter who the father is it's who raises them.
It made you cry when he told you that he wasn't leaving. And he stayed true to those words, he never left you. Fernando was there for everything.
The morning sickness, the appointments, cravings, he didn't care that you called him one night while he was halfway across the world crying because you couldn't open a jar of pickles. He still smiles fondly at the memory of you texting him an hour later saying his assistant opened the jar for you.
If you could travel, Fernando is bringing you with him. The media claimed him as the father of your ever-growing belly. He couldn't stop smiling at the article. Reads to your baby every night, if he's away traveling you best put that man on speaker and to your stomach.
The team spoils you and the baby, they love having you because Fernando just glows with happiness and shows you off to everyone who will listen. Carries a little picture of your ultrasound with him and kisses it before getting in the car.
He was honored to be the one to feel the first kick when he was praising the baby for being good while he was away. Refused to know the gender of the baby just buying them anything and everything.
Has you move in before the baby is due, doesn't care you haven't been dating for long. The two of you know damn well this is it for you.
Has to race on the day of your due date and about quits right then and there. Threw a huge fit, you had to call and calm him down saying nothing has happened.
2 weeks and you still hadn't given birth. Fernando was annoyed, he wanted his little baby in his arms so he can be the annoying dad showing them off everywhere.
when your water breaks, he's super calm. Yet when he hears that it's a boy and those little cries. He breaks down into your hold thanking you for this family and his son. You laugh saying your welcome. Fernando refuses to let the nurses touch the baby unless needed. You best believe that boy was decked out head to toe in Aston Martin gear when he announces the birth.
request: Carlos x reader trying to have a baby, but after some failure, during the summer break with all of his family in Mallorca they got the big news (baby Carlos is comingg). After a year they come back to the summer house, as a parents, dealing with baby Carlos, with his sister and his mother🥹 (can you make this angst at the begging)
The summer sun hung low over the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the picturesque landscape of Mallorca. Carlos and you stood by the balcony, gazing out at the tranquil waves below. The sea breeze ruffled your hair, a gentle reminder of the passage of time.
It had been a journey of hope and heartache, a story that had begun with dreams of parenthood. But those dreams had been met with silence, punctuated by the bitter sting of failure. The two of you had weathered the storm, your love growing stronger with each setback. Yet, the emptiness lingered, a void that seemed insurmountable.
Amidst the laughter of Carlos' family echoing through the summer house, your heart ached in secret. His sister's children played by the shore, their innocent giggles a painful reminder of what you longed for.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and pinks, you found yourselves alone on the balcony. Carlos turned to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination.
"We can't keep letting this consume us," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I want this more than anything, but I also want us to be okay, no matter what."
You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. "I know. It's just... hard, Carlos."
"I know, mi amor," he said, wrapping his arms around you. "But let's make a promise, right here, right now. We won't let this define us. We'll find happiness in each other, in the love we share."
"I thought this summer would be different," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.
Carlos nodded, unable to find the words to comfort you. His own frustration and sadness mirrored yours. You've had dreamed of starting a family together, and yet, fate seemed to conspire against you almost like it hated you, it hated you were together and happy.
That summer indeed was different. When you woke up one day to check the situation, the test result was different from the other times, and you wondered if you were still dreaming or if it was a cruel joke played on you and Carlos. The test was positive - two lines on it. You didn't know what to do or how to react.
"Carlos, can you come here for a second?" you called out, beckoning your fiancé to join you.
Your fiancé made his way into the bathroom of your room, his eyes still sleepy with morning hair. You didn't want to wake him up, but you had to, you really had to. You didn't say anything, leaving him even more curious, standing there in his boxers with sleepy eyes.
"Is everything okay, querida? Are you okay? Did you get your period? You know it's okay, we've talked about this," he said, not expecting the situation to be different from the other times.
"No, Carlos—"
"Did you hurt yourself? ¿Estás bien?"
"No, Carlos, look—" You said, showing him the test you had been holding in your hand for the past five minutes he was there. His eyes wandered on the test for more than 10 seconds, maybe as if he was trying to comprehend the situation or trying to understand if he was seeing it correctly.
"You're pregnant, querida? When did you take this? Oh, I can't believe it," he said. His sleepy eyes widened with the news. His hands were placed at the sides of your waist while you were sitting on the bathroom sink, looking at the test with a beautiful smile.
"I took it this morning. I hadn't thought that I'd be actually pregnant this time," you said with obvious disbelief. His hands covered your torso while you were sitting on the sink, wiggling your feet happily.
"You've been wanting it from the bottom of your heart, mi corazón. We've been wanting it actually," he said, cupping your cheeks to leave a happy and relieved kiss on your lips after a long time. Your hands cupped his freshly shaved cheeks, breathing slowly.
"I am so happy, Carlos," you said, your thumbs drawing circles on his cheeks slowly.
"Me too, querida, me too."
Sainz's took the news more excited than ever, actually Reyes did even cry while hugging at you. Then she admitted it in the dinner, she was so happy for the baby but she was happier for you, she hated to see you sad, she loved your energy the most.
The next summer, the visit to Mallorca was quite different from the other times. Your baby boy, Antonio, was cradled in your husband's arms - you and Carlos had decided to get married just after you received the news. As you entered the house, big smiles and even happy tears greeted you. Reyes kissed your cheeks once again to show how proud she was of you, and how strong you had been. Carlos's father took his grandchildren, who was named after his recently passed away father, in his arms and placed a good luck kiss on Antonio's forehead before whispering the words.
''Bienvenido a nuestra familia, Antonio.''
Carlos tightened his hold on your waist before leaving a kiss on the crown of your head.
''I am so proud of you, querida. Te amo.''
''It wouldn't be possible if it weren't for you, Carlos. Te amo, forever.''
Charles Leclerc x reader
Summary: It's not that easy to date one of the most handsome faces in the world.
Notes: Based on the song Pienso en tu mirá - Rosalia
Jealousy was not in your nature for the simple reason that you had researched too much about it, as well as to understand that this feeling is the first step needed to transform a beautiful relationship into a toxic and inhospitable environment, you had read it in various sources and had reinforced it through the experiences of your friends.
Even so, and although you gave everything of yourself to avoid it, a terrible feeling of fear flooded your being every time Charles walked out the door, fortunately for you the gesture you made to want to hold him a few more moments before leaving, far from seeming invasive she found it adorable.
Once again, Charles left his apartment, this time heading towards the golf course where his brothers, Pierre and Joris were already waiting for him to spend a relaxing afternoon with the boys.
"See you later, chérie", he said goodbye, leaving a small kiss on your lips.
As usual, you joined hands when he kissed you and, as usual, when you had to separate for him to continue on his way, you hesitaded letting him go.
"What's wrong, mon cour?" He said with a little smile.
"About what?" You ask, pretending you don't understand what he meant.
"This", he pointed to your index finger still clinging to the palm of his left hand.
"Nah, it's just silly", you gave him a reassuring smile that didn't serve it's purpose.
"No, it's not silly, it must mean something, and I'm not complaining. I really like feeling your love, but it's something I've been noticing a lot lately and I want you to know that you can tell me anything."
"I don't want you to be late for the boys, you go with them and when you return I'll tell you", trying to distract him you started to play with the rings on his fingers.
He pretended to think about it but he turned around and sat on the sofa making you sit on him, "Don't leave me wondering, Y/N, tell me please", he said now more seriously and the look on his eyes gave you no choice but to speak your mind right away, those gorgeous eyes always did their trick on you.
You let out a breath and whispered "I'm scared, Charles."
Suddenly the smile on his face faded and his place was taken by a frown of concern. "Scared of what, Y/N?"
With your eyes closed, you let out another sigh and then looked directly into his eyes as you placed one of your hands on his heart and the other intertwined with his fingers, "That one of the times you go out you don't come back to me, Charles. I'm afraid of the effect that your angelic appearance causes on others, and don't get me wrong, I don't intend to lock you up by my side forever and I love your independence, it's not that I doubt the love you have for me… it's just that all these feelings are so new to me, I've never experienced them with anyone else."
Your eyes were glossy as you let out those overwhelmed thoughts that rounded on your mind, "I'm jealous, Charles, a kind of jealousy that comes more from envy of everyone and everything, of people who see you from afar even when you walk together me, the water that runs through your body even when we take showers together, the fraction of a second in which a morning craving takes over your mind, everything, Charles. Even if I try to limit myself, I can't help but want to be everything to you , and I'm afraid that maybe this will make you walk away from me forever."
He listened attentively to those thoughts and feelings that torment you and, by the time you completely removed them from your chest, he raised your clasped hands and deposited a series of kisses on your knuckles.
"I understand what you're saying, mon âme", your hopeful gaze looked at him more intensely, "I understand you because I feel that way about you too, it's just that I'm not good enough to put it into words just like you just did, so I thank you for translating my mind and for loving me the same way that I love you… And I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with feeling as intensely as we both do, I know that right now society seeks to balance everything it can to make it more pragmatic, but we are talking about feelings, our feelings. And for me it is important that you know that in our relationship we can be ourselves, we do not have to limit ourselves in any way."
At the end of their confessions, you both had tears running down your cheeks, however, none of you rushed to get rid of them as had happened on previous occasions, since this time those tears would not come from negative feelings but from an excess of love that flooded your hearts. seeing its opportunity to come out in watery form.
"I love you so much Charles Marc Hervé Leclerc".
He poured all his love for you in a breathtaking kiss that made you feel the purest places of his soul.
"I love you so much Y/N".
Thank you so much for reading, any kind of interaction is highly apreciated
Summary: You enjoy standing outside whenever it rains, and that is how your boyfriend finds you when he comes home.
Warnings: none, just a whole lotta fluff and cliché moments
word count: 900+
pairing: charles x fem!reader
You were a sucker for rain, so when today's forecast included quite a bit of rain, you were happily waiting for it. For many, the rainy, gloomy day would bring down their mood but it was the opposite for you. Since you moved to Monaco with your boyfriend, there weren't too many rainy days but just enough.
The lovely cocktail-blue hue of the sky was starting to turn gravel-grey in colour. Large cloud pillows were beginning to develop, covering up the sun's old-gold brightness. You watched from the large window of your home, hearing a tapping on the window which became a pitter-patter. There weren't too many people outside but those that were ran for cover and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The smile on your face grew wider as the rainfall became heavier, and you quickly placed your now empty mug of coffee in the kitchen sink before going outside.
As the rain continued on, you started dancing to imaginary music. Your home was in a slightly secluded area so you knew that there wouldn't be too many onlookers, and even if someone was watching, you didn't really care.
You were in your little bubble of enjoying the rain until the headlight of a car disrupted your peace. The lights belonged to Charles' Ferrari, the monégasque parking halfway across the driveway, the space you weren't occupying and jogging towards you. "ma chéri, what are you doing?"
He wasn't in a great mood today, as he had to cancel plans with you this morning since he was called in to attend to some media duties, of some sponsors. You were upset but it wasn't his fault, so you didn't let the disappointment show on your face as he was leaving. Though, when he left, you changed into one of his shirts which smelt like his cologne, and climbed back into bed on his side. When Charles was on his way back home, it started raining and it upset him even further, not because he didn't like the rain, but it made him miss you even more. He didn't particularly like the rain as much as you did, but sometimes he would watch you stand outside, and as much as he warned you that you would get sick, you didn't listen to him.
He wondered if you would be standing outside today when he pulled into the driveway, and saw you dancing, in your own world. He smiled slightly, putting his dimples on display, then got out of the car without even parking it properly.
You walked closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was also completely soaked under the rain, but didn't complain as he saw your eyes gleaming. "Bonjour, mon amour" in the past few years you've been dating Charles, you were improving your French as you considered it a romantic language. Needless to say, you were quite good but obviously not at Charles' level yet.
"tu vas être malade" [you’re going to be sick] Charles muttered, and you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, obviously expecting those words. Charles sighed since he wasn't receiving a proper response from you. "Baby-" Charles started but you put your finger on his lips. "Charles, I will be fine. Come on let's dance"
"Right now?" His eyes widened, he looked up for a moment, the rain splattering on his face harder. "Of course" you chuckled at his reaction, moving his arms lower to rest on your hips and putting a respectable dancing distance between you. Charles didn't have the same thought as he pulled you right against his body. You looked up at him to see the man smirking. The two of you swayed together and you rested your head in the crook of his neck. After a few moments, you felt vibrations coming from his body and you realized he was humming.
You made direct eye contact with your lover and you felt heat rising up your cheeks with the way he was looking at you. "What's that look for?" You questioned.
Charles didn't reply, instead he dipped his head down to your neck and placed a light kiss under your ear, a sweet spot he knew very well. His head still rested against your shoulder and you brought your hand up to play with his wet hair.
He brought his head up to face you, cradling your cheek between his palms. "Je t'aime"
"I love you more" was always your response to his verbal expression of love.
You two still swayed in each other's arms, until you thought of something you've been wanting to do. "Kiss me" you stated.
He smiled before leaning in to place a sweet kiss on your lips. He always pecked your lips first before going in for a second lustful kiss.
"You've always wanted to kiss in the rain, right?" Charles assumed from your reaction. You simply nodded, not being able to form words which wasn't too surprising as any touch from Charles left you speechless.
You went in for another kiss, spending a few more moments in the rain until it stopped.
As you two were making your way into your home, you sneezed once, and twice. You looked at him and realized he was already looking at you with a 'I told you so' expression. Nonetheless, you shared a laugh with him. He was worried about you even if it was just a normal cold, but he didn't regret those moments you shared in the rain. In fact he was looking forward to the next time it rains so he could play some actual music and you two would properly dance.
⸺ the one where your favorite driver drunkenly confesses his love to you.
✓ mentions of alcohol and food.
⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (CLOSED)
⁕ my masterlist and my taglist
Mick was usually a very composed guy. He was often the designated driver whenever their friends decided to party, and when he wasn't, he still wouldn't get hammered. That's why Yn was so confused when she opened her door only to find her friend and, at some point, a coworker barely standing in front of her house.
"Mick?" she asked, confusion written all over her face.
"Hi, Yn. Wie gehts?" he slurred, starting to use his native language, and Yn frowned even deeper.
"I'm ok, I guess. You...not so much eh?"
She took a step back and motioned for him to get in, which he did stumbling inside and leaving his shoes at the entrance.
"How'd you get here?"
"So many questions," he mumbled jokingly rolling his eyes, or trying to because he was so drunk Yn swore that wasn't a proper eye roll. "I ubered here, or someone did... I dunno."
Yn took a deep breath and went to her kitchen to get the kettle ready. He would need the strongest cup of coffee and the coldest bath, and she would give it to him because if the roles were reversed Mick would sure take care of her, no questions asked.
"Wait, don't leave me alone, Yn." He stepped into the kitchen behind her and almost fell trying to sit on one of her stools.
"I had no idea you were this needy when drunk," Yn joked and Mick didn't answer. His hands were on the marble counter and he was watching with lazy eyes her every move.
They met when Mick started in F1. Yn worked with Mercedes and was close friends with Esteban, so it wasn't a surprise when they hit it off from the start. Once Mick went to Mercedes, they became even closer, and what used to be platonic, started having its own space in Yn's heart. She was in love with Mick.
What she didn't know at the time was that Mick was in love with her too.
"I had to talk to you."
"And it couldn't wait until you were sober?" she quipped.
"No, I'm terrified I'm-" Yn's coffee machine started its crazy noise swallowing what Mick was about to confess.
He directed his blue eyes to his palm, and he could almost hear a small and sober part of himself screaming that this was not a good idea, that she probably wouldn't be into him that way.
"Let's go, you're getting into the shower. I think I have a sweatpant that's going to fit you just right," she clicked something on the machine and started walking to the corridor.
Mick followed her in his drunk haze, just like he would follow her sober. Lance even joked once about how he looked like a found lost puppy while trailing behind Yn in the paddock.
"Can you hold yourself? Shower without falling in my bathroom or destroying it?"
"Of course!" His offended face made Yn chuckle.
When she reached the door, ready to leave him be, Mick's muffled voice called for her.
"I can shower, but I think I'll need some help with this shirt..." and sure enough Yn turned around to see Mick's torso on display while his head was stuck on his shirt.
Yn's laughter boomed around the walls of the bathroom, and she could almost hear Mick doing the same and being interrupted by a hiccup. She reached for the shirt and detangled him before quickly turning around and leaving, trying to ignore how intimate it felt to take care of him in such a vulnerable state.
While Mick showered to sober up, Yn got him coffee, some crackers, and hungover pills for he would definitely wake up with his head pounding the next morning.
When she walked into the room, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, a towel on his broad shoulders and some droplets of water running from his back to his waist, stopping at the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing.
"Gotcha some food and coffee to help you sober up, are you feeling any better?" Yn asked, settling the tray on her nightstand.
"I love you," he whispered, and she was thankful her hands were free because otherwise, she would have dropped everything on her bedroom floor.
And, of course, part of her tried to tell her that it was the kind of 'I love you' you tell your best friend, but the second their eyes met Yn knew exactly what kind of confession that was.
"You're drunk, Mick..."
"I'm in love with you, Yn." He started again. "I have been since my first year in the grid, and I'm sorry I'm saying it like this, but-" he hiccups interrupting his own rambling, and then they're both laughing.
There's some kind of relief in finally sharing the truth, letting it free to go around.
"We'll talk about it in the morning, ok?"
"But...do you love me back? You don't even have to love me, you can just like me, do you like me back? I- I've never done this before, how does one ask if the other is in love too, but without sounding like a fool? Or is it just because I'm still a bit drunk?"
Yn giggled, rolling her eyes and carding her fingers to his blonde mop of hair that was still damp from the cold shower. She dipped down and kissed his forehead, and Mick closed his eyes enjoying the caress of her lips on his skin.
"I'm in love with you too, your dork."
"Can you kiss me?"
"We're not having our first kiss with you drunk," she shook her head.
"Oh- Scheiße!- that's actually true! Mhm but wait," Mick holds his pointer finger up as if he's about to state something, and Yn takes a step back to watch him attentively. "I just crashed your cozy Friday night at home- do you still love me? After taking care of me drunk? After I put you through all this trouble?"
Yn rolled her eyes, kissed the tip of his nose, and added, "Yes, Mick Schumacher, I still love you."
"Even after I accidentally dropped and spilled half of your shampoo on the bathroom floor?"
"Ye- Wait WHAT?"
― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: That was a bit longer than I anticipated lol 1k words, but I hope you guys like it!! yay *forehead kiss* Don't forget to like and reblog this piece!
Could you come up with something around this subject? Fernando not wanting to celebrate his birthday because it means he on paper will be even older than his baby girl, and he might be a bit worried she will find someone younger😅
Happy birthday to Daddy Nando 😏
A/N: I love him, I really do he just screams Daddy ughhh
Warnings: Age gap, fluff
"What do you mean you don't want to celebrate your birthday?" Shocked as Fernando refuses to take the cake from the Aston Martin mechanics. "Fernando, take the damn cake." Lawerence gruffs, shoving the cake into his friends arm.
"Happy birthday old man." Lance teases patting Fernando on the shoulder, leaving with his father. "Nando, it was sweet of them. You should say thank you." You whisper, nudging him with your shoulder looking at the mechanics.
"Thank you, this really does mean a lot. Just, I don't celebrate my birthdays often. Thanks, for accepting me and making me a part of this team." Fernando smiles, before walking away leaving you to apologize for him. "Nado, wait." You call out rushing after him.
The rain having picked up, you groan covering yourself as best as you can. "Nando! Fernando!" You cry, chasing him in the rainstorm. Skidding to a stop, he turns and pulls you up into a dry area.
"What is wrong with you? It's your birthday and everyone did something very nice. Why are you acting like this?" Wiping water off your face, trying to hold onto your anger. It just smokes out, seeing Fernando's distressed face.
"I'm old." He mumbles, the sound of the rain hitting the metal roof drowns it out. "What did you say?" Making a noise in his throat he chuckles. "I'm old dammit! I'm old, a fucking old man. 42. That's how old I am did you know that?" Fernando spits, not from anger but...something else.
"I know how old you are Nando." The comment meant nothing to you, but to him, it's a sore topic. "Exactly." He breathes, dropping his head on your shoulder. Pulling you in, the sound of the rain dulls the steady beat off your heart. He hates it.
"I'm old, Y/n. Much older than you. I don't want to celebrate, because it just reminds me of our age difference. And..and how you might leave me one day for someone younger." Biting your lip, you try hard not to laugh at his stupid comment.
"Date a littel boy? I highly doubt it. I prefer my men older, they know how to handle me and how to please me. That's you Nando. No one, can change that." Lifting his head, he just blinks and you. "Made you run in the rain." He huffs hating when you get cold and wet.
"Well, how about we go somewhere private and you can show me just how old you think you are?" Grabbing your hand he kisses your wrist, right where the vein that leads right to your heart is. "What do you mean-" He stops, seeing your mischievous grin. "Oh? Oh." Dragging you back to the rain rushing to a better area.
Fernando definitely proved he wasn't old.
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