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the alpha tauri mechanics frantically wrapping layers of duck tape around the rear wing while yuki screams slurs as yet unheard of in the western world down the radio is the funniest shit i have ever seen this sport is not real

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when you see a red flag during monaco sessions:

Unexpected Wonders…

Anne Hathaway and Zendaya for Bulgari

max singing baby shark it's how we know he lives with a toddler and is a full time step dad

pierre saving yuki from the smallest pothole in existence 😇

Terrible At Secrets

Requested: Yes

hi! idk if you’re taking requests right now, and it’s totally fine if you’re not!! but, if you are could you possibly write one about the reader is dating charles leclerc and shes about to graduate from university, but charles says he can’t make it because of his schedule. little does reader know that he’s actually planning on surprising her at graduation:) maybe slight angst but mostly fluff.. xx

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: It’s your graduation day and you are heartbroken that Charles can’t make it to support you.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Alluding to sexual activity.

Word Count: 2292 words.

Authors note: I am so sorry this took so long! But it is here and I hope you all like it :)

_________________

“my love, what do you think?” you gave the dress you wore a twirl in front of Charles, excited to see what he thought.

“As always, beautiful” Charles admired, “what’s the occasion?” Charles couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you truly did look gorgeous.

You paused, disappointment immediately covering your face, “my graduation” you whispered out.

Had he seriously forgotten? You’d been talking about it for ages. Finally done with the hell of a degree you had pursued, and he had forgotten.

“Oh yeah, when is it again?” Charles had carried on playing on his computer, no longer looking at you.

“Are you being serious?” every ounce of excitement you had disappeared in a second. One of the most important days of your life and he couldn’t even remember when it was.

“What? I just asked when it was?” Charles still hadn’t bothered to look up from his game.

“Friday” you suddenly hated the dress you were wearing, feeling dejected and self-conscious that you thought the day mattered at all, that some minor achievement of your mattered at all.

“Oh, this Friday?” he wasn’t interested in this conversation at all, he wasn’t even giving it a second of his time, no, clearly a stupid racing game was more pressing.

“Yes, Charles, this Friday” you were done with this conversation.

“Oh, baby, I can’t come” he finally stopped to look at you, twisting in his chair, not an ounce of remorse on his face.

“I’m sorry? What?” You couldn’t believe it. You had tried to make every single one of his races, every single bloody practice you even tried to make, but he couldn’t come to your graduation?

“Yeah, I have work” he spoke to you as if you were the one who had done him wrong, and it only made you angrier.

“Charles, you’ve known about this for ages?” you tried your best to be reasonable, but it really wasn’t like you had kept this a secret from anyone, especially not him, you’d been bouncing off the walls from excitement the last two weeks, the prospect of finally finishing your studies making you happier than you had ever known, because this is something you did, all on your own. This was the product of your years of blood, sweat and tears and he was treating it as if he was blowing off a simple walk in the park with you.

“I guess I forgot” and with that he spun back around to continue his game.

“Jesus Charles” you huffed out as you left the room, gathering up your stuff as you went along, desperately needing to get out of his apartment.

“What? What did I do wrong?” he was following you in an attempt to stop you from leaving, to get you to stay so you could calm down and let the entire thing blow over.

“ I’m sorry I’m not a fucking formula one driver and winning podiums but this was important to me. Do you get that? Important to me Charles. This was something I worked hard on, this was to better myself and you’re treating it like I have no right to be upset that my boyfriend doesn’t give a shit that I am graduating from university which was the most gruelling years of my life” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling even if you tried.

You hated crying in front of him for something like this, it made you feel stupid and pathetic, but you were so hurt. You never thought the man you loved would hurt you so much.

And the way he was looking at you now made you feel all the more worse. He didn’t have the right to look at you with pity, not when he caused this.

Charles wanted to tell you the truth, he really did and honestly, looking at you standing there, teary eyed and the saddest he had ever seen you in his life very nearly broke his resolve, but internally he just kept reminding himself of how happy you were going to be with the surprise he was planning for Friday.

He had always known how important your graduation was for you. He was always in awe of the fact that you were able to get as far as you did in your studies, knowing he would never be able to. Truthfully, he was pretty sure you were one of his heroes with what you had achieved and he couldn’t wait to celebrate you and all your hard work this weekend, but for now he had to keep the secret, and the only way he knew how to do that without bursting was to just try and deflect the subject to something else.

“Baby, I have to work, I’m sorry” he tried reaching out for you, but you flinched away, absolutely not standing the thought of him holding you right now.

“I’m going to go. I’ll see you when you aren’t so busy” and with that you were walking out his door, leaving him standing there, unsure of how to make you understand without ruining the surprise.

_______

Today was the day.

Finally, today was the day.

You had worked harder than you could ever express to get where you were and this was the physical accumulation of it.

You were going to wear your beautiful dress and hold your head up high and walk across that stage and get your degree and that was that. You were proud of yourself.

Even if your boyfriend doesn’t feel the same.

No, you didn’t even want to think of him today. Your graduation will always be tinged with  sadness because of him, but you refuse to let yourself dwell on it any longer than necessary. You were y/n fucking y/l/n and you deserve to be celebrated, even if he didn’t think so.

Waiting for them to call your name to go up was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d ever experienced and you hated that you found yourself wishing that you’d be able to see your boyfriend out in the crowd, knowing that catching a glimpse of his smile would calm you down completely.

‘My love, stop fiddling with your dress, remember who you are and all the that you are worth’

You began to play the conversation in your head, knowing this is exactly what he’d say to you, probably accompanied by a kiss to your cheek and you would be lying if you said you did not indulge in the thought of feeling his lips pressed against your cheek, cradling the other in his hand, your whole being melting into the thought, calming you down instantly, taking in the entire essence that is your boyfr-

“Miss Y/n Y/l/n, Cum Laude”

Shit, that was you.

You quickly made your way up the stage stairs in order to collect your degree, politely smiling out towards the crowd. You definitely didn’t realise how much you’d hate this. The entire room staring at you? God, how did Charles do this all the time? This was God awful.

Wait, is that Charles?

Holy shit, that is Charles. Oh my god. He came. He fucking came!

“Miss, if you wouldn’t mind” the speaker directed you to move across the stage as she pulled you out of your disbelief that here your boyfriend sat, with the biggest bunch of flowers you had ever seen, looking as gorgeous as ever and you really needed to walk across this stage now and you really needed to do it without tripping, and he came.

This truly was the greatest day of your life. How were you meant to sit through the rest of this ceremony now that you knew he was here?

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time, from the moment he walked into the hall to watching you across the stage and as you proceeded to make your way back to your seat. Shit, that dress really did look good on you. And that gown, that was, surprisingly hot, in like, a weird Hogwarts kind of way.

Was the whole nerdy academia thing doing it for him?

Why did Charles look so confused? Was something wrong?

You threw a concerned look his way before sitting down, trying to figure out what was disturbing your boyfriend so much that it warranted that look on his face. In return you got a wide toothed grinned and small thumbs up, who knew such an innocent gesture could fill you with such joy.

This ceremony was taking entirely too long for either of you, not being able to help yourself and constantly sneaking glances at each other, sharing small smiles and giggles. Feeling giddy when he mouthed “I’m so proud of you”, tears welling.

And then as soon as the ceremony was over you both beelined to each other, weaving your way through the crowd, refusing to take your eyes off your route, wanting to be in each others arms as quickly as possible.

And then you were.

He encased you in a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours moved around his neck, moulding your bodies as tightly together as the natural laws would allow. Charles was sure he had whispered how proud he was about you one hundred times in one different ways before you two broke apart.

“Thank you for taking off work to come” you had never felt as much gratitude as you had in this moment, you needed him here and he showed up.

“Oh, I didn’t have work, actually, I have the entire next week off, I’m just really bad at keeping secrets” he sheepishly confessed, red tinging his cheeks.

“Wait, what? What secret?” it was your turn to sport confusion as you tried to piece together what Charles might be talking about, but before you could get any further explanation, you were interrupted by your mom finally finding you amongst all the graduates.

“Well done!” your mom pulled you away from Charles to congratulate you, “and as proud as I am for you my dear,” she began leading you all out of the hall to the parking area, “you two are going to be late for your celebratory dinner”  

“Dinner? It’s 2pm? Wait, aren’t you coming with?” What the fuck was going on?

“No baby” your mom threw you a mischievous grin, “you have her bag yes?” she had directed the question towards your boyfriend who was starting to look more and more proud of himself by the second.

“In the car, and we should probably get going” he kissed your mother on the cheek before gesturing for you to say goodbye to your mom, who had initiated it, placing a kiss on your cheek before reminding you how proud she was of you and saying goodbye.

“I’m confused” you were wanting answers, and Charles had yet to provide you with a single one as you began walking back to his car.

“We’re going to be late for dinner, we need to go” he looked at you as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Charles, baby, its 2pm, dinner isn’t for a few hours” you were certain everyone had gotten their times wrong, trying to get Charles to realise.

“Yeah, but then it’s the whole plane ride-“ Charles began, to casually for there to have been mention of a plane.

“What plane ride Charles?” you had stopped dead in your tracks as he opened the car door for you, the silence between you creating a tension full of excitement, both of your smiles so wide it began hurting your cheeks, a small giggle slipping out of you from happiness, your body unsure of what to do with all of it accumulating inside of you.

“The one that we need to catch so we can get to the Maldives for the reservation I booked for dinner” his smile grew impossibly wider as he watched the excitement on your face.

“No” was that genuinely all you could get out at the moment?

“Yes” he gestured towards the car in order to try and get you going.

“No Charles” it was official, there was too much happiness inside you and all of it was spilling out in laughs.

“Yes Y/n” he had moved in front of you and had begun peppering kisses all over your face as you laughed from excitement.

“Why” you all but whispered as you calmed down, staring into his eyes as he looked down at you.

“My love, you just accomplished one of the most difficult things someone can do, I watched as you worked yourself for years trying to achieve this. It’s one of the bravest things I’ve seen someone do and I doubt I’d ever be able to do it, so, why? Because no one deserves this graduation gift more” he punctuated it with a tender kiss to your lips, “but now, we need to go or we’re genuinely going to be late” suddenly kicking you both into gear as you scrambled to get into the car.

Charles started the car after he got settled, “Oh! Wait, let me see if I can get my mom to take my gown” you grabbed your phone to begin dialling her umber, stopping when Charles laid his hand on your own.

“No, without you asking too many questions, just please do me a favour and keep it” Charles hand had now moved to your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Why?” yet again, he had left you confused today.

His only answer was a wink thrown in your direction, alluding to what he wanted and suddenly pushing both your thoughts to how fun the Maldives were actually going to be.

Terrible At Secrets

Requested: Yes

hi! idk if you’re taking requests right now, and it’s totally fine if you’re not!! but, if you are could you possibly write one about the reader is dating charles leclerc and shes about to graduate from university, but charles says he can’t make it because of his schedule. little does reader know that he’s actually planning on surprising her at graduation:) maybe slight angst but mostly fluff.. xx

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: It’s your graduation day and you are heartbroken that Charles can’t make it to support you.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Alluding to sexual activity.

Word Count: 2292 words.

Authors note: I am so sorry this took so long! But it is here and I hope you all like it :)

_________________

“my love, what do you think?” you gave the dress you wore a twirl in front of Charles, excited to see what he thought.

“As always, beautiful” Charles admired, “what’s the occasion?” Charles couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you truly did look gorgeous.

You paused, disappointment immediately covering your face, “my graduation” you whispered out.

Had he seriously forgotten? You’d been talking about it for ages. Finally done with the hell of a degree you had pursued, and he had forgotten.

“Oh yeah, when is it again?” Charles had carried on playing on his computer, no longer looking at you.

“Are you being serious?” every ounce of excitement you had disappeared in a second. One of the most important days of your life and he couldn’t even remember when it was.

“What? I just asked when it was?” Charles still hadn’t bothered to look up from his game.

“Friday” you suddenly hated the dress you were wearing, feeling dejected and self-conscious that you thought the day mattered at all, that some minor achievement of your mattered at all.

“Oh, this Friday?” he wasn’t interested in this conversation at all, he wasn’t even giving it a second of his time, no, clearly a stupid racing game was more pressing.

“Yes, Charles, this Friday” you were done with this conversation.

“Oh, baby, I can’t come” he finally stopped to look at you, twisting in his chair, not an ounce of remorse on his face.

“I’m sorry? What?” You couldn’t believe it. You had tried to make every single one of his races, every single bloody practice you even tried to make, but he couldn’t come to your graduation?

“Yeah, I have work” he spoke to you as if you were the one who had done him wrong, and it only made you angrier.

“Charles, you’ve known about this for ages?” you tried your best to be reasonable, but it really wasn’t like you had kept this a secret from anyone, especially not him, you’d been bouncing off the walls from excitement the last two weeks, the prospect of finally finishing your studies making you happier than you had ever known, because this is something you did, all on your own. This was the product of your years of blood, sweat and tears and he was treating it as if he was blowing off a simple walk in the park with you.

“I guess I forgot” and with that he spun back around to continue his game.

“Jesus Charles” you huffed out as you left the room, gathering up your stuff as you went along, desperately needing to get out of his apartment.

“What? What did I do wrong?” he was following you in an attempt to stop you from leaving, to get you to stay so you could calm down and let the entire thing blow over.

“ I’m sorry I’m not a fucking formula one driver and winning podiums but this was important to me. Do you get that? Important to me Charles. This was something I worked hard on, this was to better myself and you’re treating it like I have no right to be upset that my boyfriend doesn’t give a shit that I am graduating from university which was the most gruelling years of my life” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling even if you tried.

You hated crying in front of him for something like this, it made you feel stupid and pathetic, but you were so hurt. You never thought the man you loved would hurt you so much.

And the way he was looking at you now made you feel all the more worse. He didn’t have the right to look at you with pity, not when he caused this.

Charles wanted to tell you the truth, he really did and honestly, looking at you standing there, teary eyed and the saddest he had ever seen you in his life very nearly broke his resolve, but internally he just kept reminding himself of how happy you were going to be with the surprise he was planning for Friday.

He had always known how important your graduation was for you. He was always in awe of the fact that you were able to get as far as you did in your studies, knowing he would never be able to. Truthfully, he was pretty sure you were one of his heroes with what you had achieved and he couldn’t wait to celebrate you and all your hard work this weekend, but for now he had to keep the secret, and the only way he knew how to do that without bursting was to just try and deflect the subject to something else.

“Baby, I have to work, I’m sorry” he tried reaching out for you, but you flinched away, absolutely not standing the thought of him holding you right now.

“I’m going to go. I’ll see you when you aren’t so busy” and with that you were walking out his door, leaving him standing there, unsure of how to make you understand without ruining the surprise.

_______

Today was the day.

Finally, today was the day.

You had worked harder than you could ever express to get where you were and this was the physical accumulation of it.

You were going to wear your beautiful dress and hold your head up high and walk across that stage and get your degree and that was that. You were proud of yourself.

Even if your boyfriend doesn’t feel the same.

No, you didn’t even want to think of him today. Your graduation will always be tinged with  sadness because of him, but you refuse to let yourself dwell on it any longer than necessary. You were y/n fucking y/l/n and you deserve to be celebrated, even if he didn’t think so.

Waiting for them to call your name to go up was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d ever experienced and you hated that you found yourself wishing that you’d be able to see your boyfriend out in the crowd, knowing that catching a glimpse of his smile would calm you down completely.

‘My love, stop fiddling with your dress, remember who you are and all the that you are worth’

You began to play the conversation in your head, knowing this is exactly what he’d say to you, probably accompanied by a kiss to your cheek and you would be lying if you said you did not indulge in the thought of feeling his lips pressed against your cheek, cradling the other in his hand, your whole being melting into the thought, calming you down instantly, taking in the entire essence that is your boyfr-

“Miss Y/n Y/l/n, Cum Laude”

Shit, that was you.

You quickly made your way up the stage stairs in order to collect your degree, politely smiling out towards the crowd. You definitely didn’t realise how much you’d hate this. The entire room staring at you? God, how did Charles do this all the time? This was God awful.

Wait, is that Charles?

Holy shit, that is Charles. Oh my god. He came. He fucking came!

“Miss, if you wouldn’t mind” the speaker directed you to move across the stage as she pulled you out of your disbelief that here your boyfriend sat, with the biggest bunch of flowers you had ever seen, looking as gorgeous as ever and you really needed to walk across this stage now and you really needed to do it without tripping, and he came.

This truly was the greatest day of your life. How were you meant to sit through the rest of this ceremony now that you knew he was here?

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time, from the moment he walked into the hall to watching you across the stage and as you proceeded to make your way back to your seat. Shit, that dress really did look good on you. And that gown, that was, surprisingly hot, in like, a weird Hogwarts kind of way.

Was the whole nerdy academia thing doing it for him?

Why did Charles look so confused? Was something wrong?

You threw a concerned look his way before sitting down, trying to figure out what was disturbing your boyfriend so much that it warranted that look on his face. In return you got a wide toothed grinned and small thumbs up, who knew such an innocent gesture could fill you with such joy.

This ceremony was taking entirely too long for either of you, not being able to help yourself and constantly sneaking glances at each other, sharing small smiles and giggles. Feeling giddy when he mouthed “I’m so proud of you”, tears welling.

And then as soon as the ceremony was over you both beelined to each other, weaving your way through the crowd, refusing to take your eyes off your route, wanting to be in each others arms as quickly as possible.

And then you were.

He encased you in a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours moved around his neck, moulding your bodies as tightly together as the natural laws would allow. Charles was sure he had whispered how proud he was about you one hundred times in one different ways before you two broke apart.

“Thank you for taking off work to come” you had never felt as much gratitude as you had in this moment, you needed him here and he showed up.

“Oh, I didn’t have work, actually, I have the entire next week off, I’m just really bad at keeping secrets” he sheepishly confessed, red tinging his cheeks.

“Wait, what? What secret?” it was your turn to sport confusion as you tried to piece together what Charles might be talking about, but before you could get any further explanation, you were interrupted by your mom finally finding you amongst all the graduates.

“Well done!” your mom pulled you away from Charles to congratulate you, “and as proud as I am for you my dear,” she began leading you all out of the hall to the parking area, “you two are going to be late for your celebratory dinner”  

“Dinner? It’s 2pm? Wait, aren’t you coming with?” What the fuck was going on?

“No baby” your mom threw you a mischievous grin, “you have her bag yes?” she had directed the question towards your boyfriend who was starting to look more and more proud of himself by the second.

“In the car, and we should probably get going” he kissed your mother on the cheek before gesturing for you to say goodbye to your mom, who had initiated it, placing a kiss on your cheek before reminding you how proud she was of you and saying goodbye.

“I’m confused” you were wanting answers, and Charles had yet to provide you with a single one as you began walking back to his car.

“We’re going to be late for dinner, we need to go” he looked at you as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Charles, baby, its 2pm, dinner isn’t for a few hours” you were certain everyone had gotten their times wrong, trying to get Charles to realise.

“Yeah, but then it’s the whole plane ride-“ Charles began, to casually for there to have been mention of a plane.

“What plane ride Charles?” you had stopped dead in your tracks as he opened the car door for you, the silence between you creating a tension full of excitement, both of your smiles so wide it began hurting your cheeks, a small giggle slipping out of you from happiness, your body unsure of what to do with all of it accumulating inside of you.

“The one that we need to catch so we can get to the Maldives for the reservation I booked for dinner” his smile grew impossibly wider as he watched the excitement on your face.

“No” was that genuinely all you could get out at the moment?

“Yes” he gestured towards the car in order to try and get you going.

“No Charles” it was official, there was too much happiness inside you and all of it was spilling out in laughs.

“Yes Y/n” he had moved in front of you and had begun peppering kisses all over your face as you laughed from excitement.

“Why” you all but whispered as you calmed down, staring into his eyes as he looked down at you.

“My love, you just accomplished one of the most difficult things someone can do, I watched as you worked yourself for years trying to achieve this. It’s one of the bravest things I’ve seen someone do and I doubt I’d ever be able to do it, so, why? Because no one deserves this graduation gift more” he punctuated it with a tender kiss to your lips, “but now, we need to go or we’re genuinely going to be late” suddenly kicking you both into gear as you scrambled to get into the car.

Charles started the car after he got settled, “Oh! Wait, let me see if I can get my mom to take my gown” you grabbed your phone to begin dialling her umber, stopping when Charles laid his hand on your own.

“No, without you asking too many questions, just please do me a favour and keep it” Charles hand had now moved to your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Why?” yet again, he had left you confused today.

His only answer was a wink thrown in your direction, alluding to what he wanted and suddenly pushing both your thoughts to how fun the Maldives were actually going to be.

pancakes for dinner | cl16

in honor of our favorite monégasque's amazing weekend in straya!! the thought of soft and lovestruck charles is what keeps me up at night <3 this is 100% inspired (and ripped off) of pancakes for dinner by lizzy mcalpine

summary: charles and you are both in love, but who is going to admit it first?

notes: teeth-rotting fluff, two painfully in love idiots, confessions

“You’re finally going to tell her?”

The frenchman claps his best friend on the back, catching up to him in the paddock as they head toward hospitality.

Charles smiles nervously, “Yes, Pierre. You can get off my back about it now.”

The AlphaTauri driver laughs at the red tinge on his friends cheeks, “Mate, you’re absolutely in love with this girl.”

“Do you have to say it so loud?!” the Monégasque looks around with wide eyes.

Laughter shakes Pierre’s shoulders at his friend’s frazzled demeanor. Once he finally recovers, and Charles cheeks match his Ferrari shirt, the pair continue to stroll down the paddock

“You know, there’s no harm in admitting it,” Pierre tips his head toward his friend. “It’s obvious she loves you back.”

“If its obvious, why do we have to say it?” Charles asks incredulously. Pierre just glares at him until Charles begins again, “What if she doesn’t, though? What we have right now is so nice, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Just tell her, mate,” Pierre grins at his friend. “You won’t regret it. If you don’t tell her soon, she might not wait around for you. I’ve seen you both together, and you love her. So, tell her.”

Pierre bids his friend goodbye before heading into his team’s hospitality suite, leaving Charles alone in the paddock walkway, hands itching to reach for his phone. Pierre’s comment lingers with him through his meal and team meeting’s, and once he returns to his driver’s room to spend some time before qualifying, he reaches for his phone.

“Hello?” I answer the video call with a lazy smile, sipping from the coffee cup between my fingers.

“Good morning,” Charles grins, feeling his worries melt at the sound of my voice.

“Mm, good afternoon,” I yawn

Charles leans against the small couch in his drivers room, spreading his legs before him, “How’s work been?”

“A bit frustrating,” I admit. “Our client moved our meeting to next week, so I could’ve come out with you after all. They called us late last night about it.”

Charles groans as he tips his head back against the couch, “You’re serious? They called that late to change it?”

I sigh as I nod my head, “I could’ve made it out if they had let us know a couple days earlier. It’s too late to fly out now.”

“Ugh, I wish you could’ve made it,” the racer pouts, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his chin. HIs voice gets quiet as his cheeks glow red, “I miss having you here.”

My chest grows warm at his admission, a smile spreading across my face, “Don’t tell me I’m your good luck charm now.”

Charles laughs loudly, the sound bringing out my own giggle, “You just might be. The first two races were good with you there.”

“You’ll still be great this weekend,” I comment. “I watched free practice, and you look like you’re in a good position. The porpoising looks terrible, but you’re still quick.”

“I love when my girl talks to me about racing terms,” he smirks, a chuckle falling from his lips after his comment.

“Your girl?” I tease in an attempt to hide the blush on my cheeks.

Charles had never called me that, and our relationship isn’t exactly clearly defined. Terms of endearment is something we haven’t addressed sober yet. I called him mon beau one too many times at the bar, and he let ma meuf slip in a dazed state. Memories of his arm slung across my shoulder and my hand resting on his hip as we leave the function surface. Loving terms in our native tongue slipping from our lips between breathless kisses and lingering laughter.

“Our little secret,” he winks at the camera, dimples poking through his rose cheeks.

“More than just our secret,” I remind him. “Pierre and Carlos sure as hell know.”

“As do your friends,” he grins, raising his eyebrows mischievously. “Need I remind you about your boss?”

“Alright, that one’s your fault!” I grin as I defend myself. “You wouldn’t let go of me when we ran into her!”

Charles laughs wildly at the memory, continuing the easy conversation between us. I enjoy listening to his voice as he talks about his time in Melbourne, and my heart eases at his gentle tone. The lull to his French and breathy laughter is comforting, and my eyes start to grow heavy.

“Nap before qualifying,” he says, running fingers through his helmet hair. “You’ve still got an hour until it starts.”

I yawn again, “I’ll just make more coffee. I can’t risk missing it, Charles.”

He grins wildly at my comment, “I love knowing you watch me race.”

“I love watching you,” I respond, shamelessly checking him out over the video call.

“God, I wish you were here. I miss having you around,” he admits, rubbing a hand down his face. “I feel calm when you’re here.”

It’s the closest he can get to admitting his love. A silence lingers between us with words unsaid, and Charles eventually bids me a goodbye as someone knocks on his door. While I make another cup of coffee, Charles goes through the motions at the paddock. He mentally kicks himself for being unable to say what he had wanted—what he had promised Pierre he would tell me. The feeling grows in intensity, and it starts to manifest as nervousness for the upcoming session. In the garage, Mattia senses the driver’s anxiety and urges him to call someone he loves to give him some peace. He desperately wants to call me back, admitting what he had called in the first place to say, but at the last moment, his finger hits his mom’s contact information instead of mine. She tells him exactly what he needed to hear, ending the call with those three words he had been searching for only an hour before. As he gets ready to settle into the cockpit for qualifying, anxiety suddenly grips him. What if something were to happen and he never got to say those words to me? He suddenly climbs out of the car, muttering apologies to his engineers and team before searching for his phone. His mom’s words echo in his head, and he hesitates for only a moment before clicking my name.

“Charles?” I answer the phone call with concern in my voice.

He usually video calls unless something is more serious.

“I had to call you. I’m sorry, but I can’t get back into the car without telling you something. I-“

“Babe,” the word slips from my lips without another thought, “breathe. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I don’t want to cross that line, but just in case something happens in the car, I want you to know this.”

“You’re going to be fine in the car,” I begin. “You always are. What’s gotten into you?”

The line is silent for a moment. Charles stand against the far wall of the Ferrari garage, race suit adorning his body and car ready to go. His helmet sits next to him as he stares blankly at the garage floor, biting his lip as he grapples with what to say. He hears me begin again on the other end of the line, worry increasing in my tone.

“I want to eat pancakes for dinner,” he blurts out suddenly.

My eyebrows draw together, “What?”

His voice sounds suddenly frantic, “I’ll answer all your questions, but let me say all of this first.”

I agree quietly, eyebrows drawing together even further as I check the time. He should be in the car already. Qualifying was starting any minute.

“When I come home after a race, I want to come home to you and eat pancakes for dinner,” his voice is rushed but remains strong. “I want to pick a tv show to watch together, and watch it in bed when you get those headaches that put you down for a day. I want to be that person that you call when you’re under the weather.

I want to go out on the weekends—take you in public with me. Be proud that we’re at each other’s sides. I want to introduce you to all of my friends, not just some of them. I want you to bring me to your work functions and introduce me to your coworkers. I want to do things with you that I used to want to do alone.

I want us to get dressed in our best evening wear only to come home and take it all off. I want to get dressed up just to get undressed. You’re beautiful in anything. Hell, everything. I want to show you this.

I want to brag to my friends about you. I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want. I’m comfortable with you. I like having you in my space. When I get home from the craziness of a race weekend, I look forward to walking into my apartment and seeing you there. You’re waiting for me, dangling that spare key I gave you in between you fingers, and it feels like home. To tell you all this is terrifying, but I wish you could hear me when I talk to myself. If you could hear what’s in my head, this wouldn’t be so scary.”

“Charles,” tears have welled in my eyes at his admission, heart beating out of my chest and cheeks burning red.

The line hangs silent for a moment as fear grips me. I can hear tools whirring and chatter from the garage in the background, but the driver hangs on to the end of my words with baited breath. I could feel what he is trying to say, and despite the obvious love between us, my brain falters at the words.

“Oh, fuck it,” I whisper, heart hammering in my chest. “I love you, too.”

There is silence again, and for a moment, it feels like my knees are going to give way beneath me. Someone in the garage calls his name. In the Ferrari garage, Charles must look like a lovestruck idiot to the team around him. They bustle through the packed garage between the cars and monitors while their driver stands against the wall, mouth hanging open in a lazy smile. When someone calls his name, he suddenly snaps back to his senses and realizing he’s left me hanging on the other end.

“Babe,” he calls when he realizes the stretching silence between us, “I can’t get into that car without telling you. I love you.”

“I know you do,” I say into the phone, glancing at the television as the clock for qualifying winds down. “I’ll love you even more if you get into that car and get out there for qualifying.”

“Right,” Charles suddenly realizes the time and the bustle of the garage. “Pole position is yours.”

I roll my eyes with a laugh, “Get in the car, Charles. Good luck, and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he hurries before hanging up the phone.

He wasn’t lying when he said pole position. Charles takes pole to kickoff his grand slam weekend. Some of my friends watch the race with me, holding my hand as Charles takes off on the start and cheering when he crosses the line to drop the checkered flag. My heart bursts at the sight on the television screen, and my friends are still over when they hear my disgustingly in-love call with Charles once he exits the paddock. I hear Pierre laugh wildly in the background after Charles bids me goodbye, ending the call with another I love you. My own friends screech as they hear me return it.

Once he texts me that his plane has touched down, I rush over to his apartment with his spare key in tow. Dinner is quick to cook, and I’m turning off the stove as I hear the lock on the front door click. I lean against the counter, grinning as he swings the door open and stops dead in his tracks. His eyes have dark circles beneath them and the stubble on his jaw is darker that usual. A hat holds back his wild hair. Warmth spreads from my chest to my fingers and toes at the sigh of him.

“Congratulations, championship leader,” I smile.

“What are you doing here?” he grins, abandoning his suitcase and bag at the door to walk over to me. “It’s late, and you’ve got work tomorrow.”

I laugh as his arms wrap tightly around me, relishing in the warmth and touch I had been missing for over a week, “I wanted to see you.”

He chuckles quietly against me, sighing as his head rests between my shoulder and neck, “God, I missed you so much. I thought I was going crazy.”

He glances at the plate on the kitchen counter, gasping and looking to me with wide eyes, “You didn’t.”

“Pancakes for dinner,” I nod my head, leaning in to his lips for a moment. “After your amazing weekend, I thought you’d like them.”

“A weekend that was entirely your doing, mon amour,” he kisses me this time, a lazy smile across his tired features.

“Mon amour?” I grin. “So I’m officially stepping up from ma meuf now?”

He hums in agreement, “Even in public.”

“Lucky me,” I whisper, connecting our lips again beneath the warm kitchen lights.

We stack our plates with pancakes, sitting on the couch with our dinner. Charles puts on one of our favorite shows, picking up where we left off before he left for Australia. We eat in a comfortable silence, elbows bumping and legs brushing beneath the blanket. Charles raves about the pancakes despite being from a box mix, and I laugh when he stacks more on to his plate. Once we finish eating, he puts our plates on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch. He wraps his arms around me before flopping on to the couch, chuckling as he pulls me on top of him. Our show plays in the background as we talk about what we did in the week we were apart. I tell him all about the office and getting together with my friends for a girls weekend. He talks about the race, and the team watching him as he called me from the garage. As our conversation lulls, his eyes grow heavy. He squeezes my hand gently.

“Will you come to Imola with me?” he mutters, pushing hair back from my face.

“Of course,” I answer, chin resting on his chest to meet his eyes. “Camille can keep me company again in the grandstands.”

He shakes his head gently, “No, come with me to the garage as a guest. I want to be seen with you.”

“Like walk with you through the paddock?” my eyes are wide at his admission.

He nods, “Stand with my family in the garage, hold my mom’s hand on the opening lap, celebrate with me at the end. I want you there with me because I love you. I want everyone to know that.”

I laugh gently, squeezing his hand, “I’d love to be there, but I think the the garage already knows because they heard your entire confession over the phone.”

He smiles, “Hopefully Mattia and my trainer didn’t hear the pancakes for dinner comment. It definitely doesn’t follow my meal plan.”

“Well, it’s our little secret then,” I lean up to kiss his lips.

He smiles, leaning back into the couch pillow with closed eyes, “It sounds good to have something that’s ours, mon amour.”

Comfort

I found the gift on Pinterest, credits to the owner

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: You comfort Charles after his loss at the Grand Prix in Imola

warnings: swearing,fluff, so none really

word count: 800

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Charles?Love where are you?”

“M’here” came, muffled from the direction of the bedroom.

Leaving your things on the kitchen table you went straight to where you adumbrated your boyfriend.

When you opened the half closed room door fully you noticed your lover laying on the bed, tangled in the sheets and head buried in his pillow.

“Hey” , you greeted Charles softly while sitting down.

“Hello mon ange.”he responded.

“Can I bring you something? Do you maybe want a Chamomile tea?”

“No,I don’t want anything,” he said, sounding dejected.

“Oh my love.” You sighed. You had to do something. Had to get his hopes up again somehow.

Before you left the room you kissed Charles’s head softly.

You walked into the bathroom and started preparing a bath.

When the tub was filled with hot water you once again went into the bedroom to find Charles in the same position as before.

“Hey baby. I drew you a bath.” You couldn’t see it but he smiled at your sentence. It wasn’t necessary but he loved that you wanted to make him feel better.

“Okay” he responded prior to him standing up with a heavy sigh.

You gifted him a soft smile that he absolutely adored and then took his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.

“Mon amour?”

“Yes?”

“Can I maybe get the Chamomile tea now?”

You smiled and answered” Of course, you get undressed and into the tub and I bring you the tea. Would you also like to eat something?”

“No, just the tea, thank you.” He said with a kiss to your hand.

While the water began boiling in the kettle you thought about how else you could cheer Charles up. Maybe he needed to talk? Let his frustration out? Sex?

Maybe everything?

You hated this. Hated that he felt so bad and that there was nothing that you could do really to help him.

You could only be here.

With the steaming cup of Chamomile tea you made your way back to Charles.

“Here you go darling.”

He had his eyes closed and his head rested on the back of the tub, when he heard your voice he opened his eyes.

“Merci,my love.” Taking the tea from your hands he sat up and took a sip. Immediately hissing due to the temperature.

“Merde! This shit is hot.”,he cursed.

“Charles,” you laughed,” what did you expect? Of course the tea is hot. That’s how it’s supposed to be.” You shook your head still laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me mon chérie. It’s not funny. Look, I burned my tongue. “ His words accompanied by him sticking his tongue out for you to see ,made him sound funny.

It made you laugh even harder.

“At least one of us is having fun.” Charles said with fake hurt feelings.

Rolling your eyes you wanted to leave the room and go start on dinner, but you were interrupted by Charles calling”

Wait! Where are you going?”

“Start preparing dinner?”

“You are not coming in?”he asked.

“Oh. I assumed you wanted to be alone. To relax or something like that.” You shrugged.

“No no. I want you to give me company. “

You nodded and undressed yourself before stepping into the hot water.

You were now facing him. His and your legs touching.

Before you could even register anything he grabbed your sides and pulled you to him. You were pressed against each other, chest to chest. He probably could feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“Do you need anything else?” You asked a little breathless.

His lips grazed yours lovingly.

“No nothing, I just need you. You and your comfort.”

Then he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet and short. Too short, but before you could dive back in for another one he pulled you impossibly close to him and threw his arms around you before burying his face in your neck where he let out a content sigh.

„I'm here for you, my love.”you whispered.

“I love you mon chérie.

“And I love you, Lord Perceval.”

You could feel his laughter kiss your skin before he really pressed kisses to it.

“ The water is getting cold, let's go and cuddle in bed please.”

“Alright” you answered with a content smile.

Wrapped in towels you laid down in bed where Charles once again pulled you to his chest and then kissed your forehead before closing his eyes.

Looking utterly at ease.

Flat Spin

Summary/Prompt: Flat Spin 1. A spin in which an aircraft descends in tight circles whilst remaining almost horizontal 2. A state of agitation or panic [informal] As the only female driver on the grid, you're fighting a constant need to prove yourself, however sometimes the line between accepting help and hand-outs is more blurred than you think

Word Count: 8,060

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Female Reader

Warnings: Description of a racing crash, mentions of vomit, angst-ish, fluffy ending! It's a long one kids but stick with it

You were flying.

Every time you got in that car you felt as if you were flying, the swooping sensation in your stomach and the rush in your ears carrying you as adrenaline pumped through your bloodstream.

You adored racing, and despite not being from any sort of motorsporting family, you could have sworn it was in your blood. You never felt as good as you did behind the wheel, going over 200 miles per hour and hurtling into turns. It was two hours of pure adrenaline and nothing could beat that rush.

Like every other driver, you had been karting since you were a child, climbing through the ranks and finally earning your spot as a Formula One driver. It was your third year now, old enough to no longer be considered a rookie, but new enough that you were still frequently referred to as the 'new kid', despite being older than both Yuki Tusunoda and Lando Norris. But for you, it was a little different.

Because you were unfortunate enough to have been born a girl.

Your career from an early age had been followed by significant media attention, especially once you became the highest-ranking female driver and even that was nothing compared to the media storm you caused when it was announced you had signed to an F1 team. Aston Martin was nearly denounced by fans for taking you on, however, after finishing your rookie season in a respectable P9, they quickly shut up.

This year would be different still. You'd had a flying start, and without really noticing it you had found yourself fighting in the top five, and suddenly the words 'Championship contender' were following you around. That week you were at Imola, a fine enough track in Italy but by no means your favourite. Qualifying had been tough, and you ended up in P8 on the grid, but you were quickly making progress.

Time seemed to move differently when you raced because you'd already done 3/4 of the laps in what felt like just a few minutes and managed to claw your way up to P3 in a difficult and wet dog fight that had you nearly spin out twice.

"Y/N, radio check," your strategist's voice crackled into your earpiece. Feeling good about your current position you decided to entertain the crowd a little and sing a few lines from what had become your signature song as an F1 driver.

"She's a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want all of her lo-o-ove," You sent back. Being the only female driver on the grid had earnt you the playful title of 'Maneater', for your rather vicious overtakes on some very impressive corners to gain places and shave seconds. You heard your strategist laugh down the radio for a second, and then he was back to business.

"You're pretty close to Sainz now in P2. I want you to get on his tail, then we're gonna pull a signature Maneater overtake on turn 7, okay?"

The plan made sense, except your mental map of the course made you falter. Turn 7 was a particularly nasty hairpin and in the wet weather, it would take all of your strength just to keep the car in tight and not lose time drifting wide.

"You sure it's safe when it's so wet?"

"Sainz has already pitted and his lap time is just above yours on wet tires. The only way to overtake him is through the bend, he's not as strong on turns as you are,"

"Gotcha," you signed off and turned all your focus onto catching the tail of the red Ferrari that had been coming in and out of your sight for a few laps.

Stepping on the gas and feeling the car leap forward into your hands made you grin like a maniac behind your helmet, and you took a quick sip of your drink before beginning your hunt.

By the end of the lap, you were virtually sitting on Carlos' rear wing. You felt a bit bad because Sainz had become one of your closer friends on the grid, but there was no time for friends in the actual race, and you'd buy him a drink after as had become the overtake custom between you and a handful of drivers. The rain was starting to drive and the track was no longer damp but properly soaked. You could feel the spray from the car in front pelting you.

"Guys I don't know about this overtake," you admitted into the radio as you had to rapidly correct a slide into turn 5.

"Y/N, I promise you he'll go wide to protect himself and you'll have the perfect opening. If you want the championship we need you to step up the aggression and chase the title," You were not happy with your strategist for pushing you in the conditions, but you knew at the end of the day that if you wanted to keep a lead driver position with the team and be within a fighting chance for championship then they were right.

As predicted, on the approach to turn 7 Carlos' car drifted wide and you tucked yourself even closer, coming up on his inside as you rammed the car into the curb with all your might and pulled through the corner. It was working, and you could see the nose of your car draw level with his as you reached the apex of the turn.

Your mistake came when you hit the acceleration. Your aim had been to push the speed coming out of the corner and complete the overtake, but your tyres span on the wet tarmac and you felt the car jerk in your hands as the back end swang out, sending the front following it around and your stomach dropped as you felt the sickening sensation of a wet spin.

All you felt was an almighty impact that made your neck snap back against your support brace and your hands fly off the wheel, the impact then forcing the car to jolt the opposite way and a second fast spin followed by an even harder impact swept any comprehension from under your feet.

You weren't sure if the car had stopped or not, because your head was spinning so violently and your body was still recoiling from the double impact and the intense G forces that had thrown you about. Your radio was crackling and buzzing in your ear, but clearly, the connection was lost. Your eyes kept sliding in and out of focus and you weren't entirely sure if you were conscious, everything around you was silent and you felt like you were sitting underwater, watching everything happen above the surface. You could faintly smell burning.

You didn't move. You weren't sure if you could, or if you just didn't want to. You were warm, very warm. But it was nice. You were quite happy to sit in the fuzzy little bubble.

The only thing to bring you from the haze was the feeling of something gripping the shoulder pads of your race suit and tugging you upwards. You felt like you were moving in slow motion, but you finally registered that you were supposed to get out of the car and in clumsy movements, with much tugging, you managed to stumble from the cockpit.

The body you stumbled into immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and half dragged your body as your feet scrambled on the gravel and made sluggish attempts at steps. You felt yourself being hoisted, and you vaguely registered that you'd been pulled over the barrier and clear of the track. You were pulled further away and then forced into a sitting position with your back against a low concrete wall a little further away.

The person who'd dragged you out was in front of you, shouting something but their voice was muffled by their helmet. They were fiddling with yours, yanking it off your head followed by your baklava, and then their own. You recognised the Ferrari race suit and realised it was Carlos squatting in front of you. He was shouting at you, you could see his mouth moving but the words weren't reaching you through the fog surrounding your head.

"Are you stupid!?" He was shouting over the noise, the words starting to reach you but you just stared at him blankly.

"Are you stupid!?" He yelled again, "What the hell were you thinking!?" He carried on a little, the same question of your stupidity and a string of Spanish swear words repeating rather frequently.

The fog in your head lifted momentarily and the full force of the accident suddenly hit you. Your whole body lurched as your stomach dropped and your head started to spin again as it throbbed with pain.

"I'm going to be sick," was all you managed before rather ungracefully turning your head sideways.

Carlos immediately leapt up, helping to pull your body into a better position. One hand was gripping firmly to your shoulder strap, making sure you didn't tip forward into your mess, and the other rubbed gentle circles on your back.

"It's okay, Y/N, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here," he was mumbling, face far too close for your liking with what was happening, but you were grateful. Your whole body hurt and you could feel the energy draining from you rapidly.

"Where the fuck is first aid!?" He was shouting again, but not at you. There was too much activity and you were too preoccupied to work out if someone was replying to him. "I don't care! I don't give a shit about the fire, she needs help! Where are they!?" You'd stopped dry heaving and he handed you his baklava to wipe your mouth, before helping you back into a sitting position so you could lean against the wall.

And then it finally hit you, that you'd collided with Carlos. "Shit, Carlos, are you okay? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry-" you were rambling but he cut you off.

"I'm okay, hey," his hand found your chin and forced you to make eye contact with him. His eyes were wide and had a slightly wild look in them, but they were dark and honest, his cheeks were flushed pink and had lines from his helmet that stood out even against his deep tan, and other than his hair being damp and sticking up in every direction he really looked okay. "I'm okay," he repeated, and you believed him.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," you sounded meek. The adrenaline and initial shock of the crash were fading and you were feeling very small and very tired.

"What were you thinking?" His voice was softer, the initial anger giving way to concern. "That overtake is bad even in the dry weather, why attempt it in the wet?"

You were starting to feel very warm again, and Carlo's features felt like they were drawing away from you as if you were slipping through a tunnel. There was a ringing in your ears. Behind you, you vaguely registered the start of another flurry of activity.

"My strategist..." you mumbled, the words feeling heavier and heavier on your tongue "They told me to...if I want the championship..." Carlos' eyes visibly darkened, thick eyebrows drawing into a scowl and he started breathing through parted lips, muttering a single word you didn't recognise. The tunnel seemed to be extending and the last thing you saw before you let the darkness consume you was Carlos craning around frantically, the look on his face positively murderous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came around under the bright white lights of the track's sickbay in the pit lane. The hard foam of the examination table was pressing hard into your hips and shoulders, your head uncomfortably tilted upwards on a lumpy but simultaneously flat pillow.

You started to stir, tentatively stretching your legs out and carefully gauging your body's reaction, testing the stretch available in your sore muscles. The track doctor must have heard you because he turned around from where we was stood with his back to you, examining something you couldn't see.

He was a tall man, with pale skin, platinum blonde hair and washed blue eyes that reminded you of the colour of hospital gowns. He was neat as a pin, down to the iron pressed suit and row of pens clipped into his breast pocket lab coat, also pressed, and the stethoscope perfectly balanced around his neck.

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, I'm glad to see you awake," you couldn't quite place the soothing yet slightly clipped accent he spoke with.

"I need to ask you a few questions, okay?" You nodded, which you soon realised was a mistake as the room seemed to swoop in front of you. You stilled and had to take a deep breath, determined not to let him see you in any worse state than you already were

"Can you tell me your name please?"

"Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N,"

"Good, and do you know what day it is?"

"Sunday,"

"Excellent. Now this last one is a little tricky, okay? Do you know why you're here?"

You were quiet for a moment. And then it slowly started flooding back to you, the flash of red on green and the out of control feeling of the car spinning you into the wall. You remembered the force of the impact and, for some reason, Carlos Sainz's face.

"I crashed," you mumbled "I hit another car on the corner and span into the wall," the realisation that you had a DNF and no points to add to your championship campaign created a knot in your stomach.

"Very good!" He seemed a lot happier about your predicament than you were.

"How long have I been here? Is the race finished? Is Carlos okay?" The apparent approval from the doctor opened a floodgate of your own questions, but he sushed you gently and encouraged you to quieten down and lay back on the bed.

"No need to panic, Miss Y/L/N, please. The race is finished and you have only been here a few minutes. You passed out when you were removed from the track and the ambulance crew brought you straight here, I was just taking your heart rate when you woke up. Mr Sainz is fine, he is a little shaken but has already returned to his team,"

You nodded, still in shock from the crash and you found yourself having to work hard to follow the doctor's explanation.

He continued to examine you, shining a light in both of your eyes and asking you to perform several reflexes and further memory tests once you were able to sit up.

"Well, I am pleased with you. That was a big crash and you have no lasting injuries. As you managed to walk away we don't have to send you to the hospital. You are not showing any signs of a concussion but I would like you to please be watching for the symptoms, okay? You will be sore for a few days, and I would like to you rest a little, but other than that I am happy to release you to your team,"

The doctor helped you to your feet and you found that you were able to stand, and despite most of your muscles screaming you managed a polite thanks and collected the slip of paper signing you off and making your way slowly back to your home garage.

The scene when you arrived was surprising, your teammate and mentor Sebastian Vettel was in a shouting match with your head strategist. Sebastian was backed by a small green-clad crowd, but the head of Aston Martin and your whole strategy team were stood opposing him.

"-because you know this isn't the first time you've made her do something so dangerous in a race!" Someone tried to interrupt him but Sebastian was having none of it, "No! I have stood by and I have watched her be pushed and pushed and pushed! I won't have it anymore, she's your primary but I'm older and I have championships and this is not how you win. I won't watch her win like this,"

"It's not like that-" someone, you couldn't pick out who in the flurry of activity, started.

"You are going to get her killed!" Sebastian jabbed your strategist in the chest so hard he stumbled back a step. "I won't stand by and watch it happen." He turned on his heel and stormed out, finally spotting you leaning against the entrance.

You must have looked a state because his face instantly softened and he rested a hand on your forearm.

"You're coming with me now, we are going to cool down," he turned and shot a venomous look at the team behind him, who looked completely shellshocked. "We will be in the meeting later." And with that Sebastian led you out of the garage.

"I'm sorry for you to see that," you shrugged.

"It's okay, I'm okay anyway,"

"No, it's not okay. I knew they were pushing you, and several other drivers have made comments feeling you are being dangerous this year. And now we know it was not your choice, I am just so cross that they are doing this to you. And that we needed a crash for something to be said," he shook his head as he walked.

You didn't know what to say in response, so you just swallowed the lump in your throat and said nothing. It had never occurred to you that your team had been putting you in such dangerous positions and that you, who had been awed by the promise of the first female championship, had been blindly following their instructions. You were also worried you'd let Sebastian down, he was your mentor and your hero. The idea of disappointing him was in ways worse than the entire of Aston Martin and the FIA combined.

Seb led you back to your driver's room and left you to manage yourself whilst he did his own cooldown routine. Having not completed the race you decided against your usual routine, instead opting to look after your body for a change. A trick from Carlos sprang to your mind. You had mocked him when he had first admitted that a big part of his routine was sitting in a massive bucket filled with ice-cold water, but now the idea sounded glorious for the multitude of bumps, bruises and aching muscles you'd acquired. You fixed yourself an electrolyte drink and changed into your swimwear before submerging yourself in the shockingly cold water. It was unpleasant, but as you grew used to it you could feel it soothing your whole body, and when you clambered out you had to admit you felt refreshed and a lot more comfortable. Your physiotherapist was about, so you called her in and relished in the feeling of the deep sports massage and adjustments she did with you to help limit the pain you'd be in over the following days.

As much as you wanted to avoid the team meeting, especially after Sebastian's outburst you knew you couldn't. And before long you found yourself slouched in an uncomfortable chair around a large table in the corporate offices above the garage. As you had suspected, the meeting was the first in what would be a string of many at headquarters in the coming weeks. You were given a formal apology from your strategy team for the accident, and Sebastian sat grimly with his arms folded and refused to apologise for his words until they gave you more than the formal apology because he felt it wasn't enough. Then the meeting was the usual, driver reports of the car's performance, a quick review of the statistics and a couple of goals set for your next race. Nobody dared analyse the crash. Seb made life wonderfully difficult for the team, and every time they tried to get more than the essential information out of him he'd just remind them with a short "I'm still mad at you," and simply refuse to say another word.

You had been told you weren't allowed to drive yourself back to the hotel, which was fine by you because your body was so heavy and tired that you had no interest in driving at all. You even skipped the paddock walk or finding the podium boys to congratulate, deciding to opt for the injury excuse to avoid interviews and use the back exit to leave. Seb had offered to drive you back to the hotel, but he didn't have a choice in the post-race interview matter, so instead, you tossed your PR manager-slash-bodyguard Katie, a rather fierce ex-England Rugby player, your keys and let her drive you back to the hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once in the safety of your hotel room, the exhaustion of the day hit a whole new level. You just about managed a sitting-down shower to scrub the race-day grime from your hair and body and changed into a pair of your most comfortable sweatpants and an oversized crop top and you crashed out on the king-sized bed with shitty TV in the background.

It was only late in the afternoon, but it didn't stop you from falling into a deep, empty sleep that you woke up from several hours later, to a completely dark and silent room.

You reached blindly for your phone, blinking in the bright white light as it turned on in your face to realise it was only just past 9pm. You contemplated simply rolling over and falling back asleep, but scrolling through your Instagram had woken you up too much, plus a loud growl from your stomach reminded you that you had barely eaten that day and had only had an electrolyte solution after the race.

You had a couple of notifications, mainly from family members and a handful of drivers wishing you well, including Sebastian who was asking for regular updates on your health. You wrote them all back and spent a little time scrolling through your tags on your Instagram account, even reposting a couple of fans' stories of the crash and reassuring people that you were okay. You were sitting with the music channel on in the background once again as you browsed the room service menu. Nothing was really capturing your attention, as most of it was large, heavy meals you knew you weren't allowed during training and that you didn't really want when another text notification drew your attention back to your phone.

Carlos Sainz: I hope you are feeling better now, Y/N.

Carlos and you texted every now and then. You had a good friendship with him, and you would consider him close, but it was more of an in-person friendship and you almost exclusively associated him with race-week antics. Your messages were largely confined within the realms of the odd well wish, a birthday message or double-checking group plans. Although this tex was to be expected, it still made your insides warm a little.

You: I am, thanks! Just had a big nap and I feel pretty much back to normal

That was a lie, your headache had definitely died down but you were still stiff and achy, not to mention embarrassed and frustrated and deeply confused over the conflict the incident had caused. You felt a little guilty for lying to Carlos, so before you could think you were typing out a follow-up message.

You: I'm actually just about to order some food, so by Seb's standards, I'm totally cured :D

You instantly regretted the smiley face, how embarrassing could you be? You tossed your phone to the side and started going back through the menu, but another notification came through almost instantly.

Carlos Sainz: Would you like some company?

That was enough to send your heart rate up and you felt a small stirring in the pit of your stomach.

Carlos Sainz: I didn't eat yet either

You: Sure, it's the least I can do for you after today

You: But you're coming to my room, I'm not dealing with the dining hall tonight

Carlos Sainz: I don't mind

You swallowed hard, you didn't really know why this was having such an effect on you. Maybe it was just because in three years' time the only driver you'd ever chosen to spend one-on-one time with was Seb, outside of the paddock and other race week promo business you ended up on. Well, there was no going back now.

You: Room 287

Carlos simply sent a thumbs-up emoji after that, so you assumed it meant message received. You knew he was staying in the same hotel as you, as were the majority of the drivers because nearly all the managers went for the same trick of booking the closest hotel to the track with a 5-star rating, but you had no idea what time he'd arrive.

Considering he had only ever seen you before in either your race suit or promotional paddock wear and the occasional formal outfit for events, you weren't entirely sure what was appropriate now. You decided that the least you could do was splash some cold water on your face and re-do your hair into a neater ponytail that didn't look like it had been recently slept on. You made your bed and quickly shoved some clothes that were lying around into the wardrobe so there was less clutter about. You were just contemplating changing outfits when there was a soft knock on your door.

Even though he'd barely made a sound, the knock still made you jump and you had to take a second to steady yourself before you answered the door. A rather sheepish looking Carlos was on the other side.

"I feel like I am sneaking around, doing something I shouldn't be," he admitted, scratching the back of his head as he stepped into your room, taking in his surroundings with the same analytical gaze he seemed to approach everything with.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "I'm just not feeling up to going anywhere,"

"Hey, no, it's okay," he was quick to retaliate "It's more important you get time to recover, no?" He finally looked at you then, with those deep brown eyes so full of emotion, a gentle smile just playing at the corners of his lips. He, too, was dressed more casually in a plain but well-fitting white t-shirt and his standard blue jeans. You still felt underdressed, because Carlos had a knack for always looking put together, and because you were still wearing sweatpants. You cleared your throat awkwardly, and unsure of what to say, nodded stiffly.

"Uh, yeah. So, um, do you wanna look at the menu?" Carlos followed you as you walked in front of him, plucking the menu from where it had been sat on your bed and handing it to him, before moving towards the sofa under the window and sitting down. It felt weird to sit on your bed around him.

Carlos seated himself on the desk chair but angled his body slightly so he was nearly facing you. He was leaning back in the chair, confident and relaxed with one leg crossed over the other but maintaining perfect posture. His arms were massive, even when just holding the menu up and the white top further accentuated his deep tan skin. His head was dipped forward slightly and the angle he was sitting at gave you a jawline sharp enough to slice through, well, anything. His eyebrows were drawn together as he scanned the page and his full lips moved slightly as he tested out certain words. His hair was jet black, shiny from a fresh wash and combed neatly behind his ears, but just tufting up a little at the back of his head and the fringe was long and flopped forward onto his face.

Suddenly, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on your head, you realised why you were so nervous.

He's gorgeous, you thought, rapidly followed by; shit. Because you needed him out of your room now and you couldn't see any normal way to say 'So I've suddenly realised you're incredibly attractive and I can barely breathe when you're around me let alone act normal so please can you go?' It wasn't that you hadn't known he was attractive before, come on, you weren't blind, but you'd never seen him attractive like that before and it was completely throwing you.

Just as you were about to blurt out some excuse as to why you suddenly couldn't entertain guests this evening, Carlos lifted his head and looked at you.

"Is there anything you would like?" Maybe it was because he held eye contact the entire time he spoke, and held it after, or maybe it was the Spanish accent but you felt like you were in a vacuum. You forced yourself to smile, screaming internally to act natural and not fuck this up because losing him as a friend would suck entirely.

"I dunno, it all sounds pretty crap if you ask me," You didn't know how someone could look at you with childlike curiosity, and at the same time like they are about to say or do something entirely sinful. Instead, he leaned back and laughed and you found yourself breathing a little easier.

"Are you fussy? Like Lando? Please, no, I cannot deal with teaching another child to eat," he groaned dramatically, but was grinning at you.

"I'm not fussy!" You defended yourself, but met his playful tone, "I just don't know what I want,"

"Women," he rolled his eyes "None of you ever know what you want to eat. Come on, not even the burgers sound good?" The way he dragged out the 'come on' and rolled his r's was simply distracting. Your stomach decided to step in and make a loud squeaky growl. Judging by the way Carlos' eyes widened and he let out another free giggle, he'd heard too. "See, you are hungry! I'm ordering the burgers, okay?"

"Yeah, alright," you agreed, and then "Actually yeah, burgers sound great, thanks,"

There was something about his confidence that you found innately attractive, the way he was instantly comfortable in your room, but still respectful. He picked up the phone on your bedside table and dialled down as if it was the most natural thing in the world, sending glances at you and pulling a funny face as someone spoke at him from the other side of the line like he'd been placing orders for you all his life. When he sat back down it was on the sofa, beside you, so you turned to face him.

"Hey, Carlos, look I'm so sorry again about the race today-"

"Ah-"

"No, I want to talk, please? I shouldn't have ever attempted that corner so close to you, no matter what I was being told over the radio, and it was totally my fault. Not that it's an excuse for dangerous driving, but they - my strat team - have been really getting in my head about this year's championship, you know? I think something's going on with it because you should have seen Seb, he went off the handle back at the garage. He said they were going to kill me, and he threatened to quit,"

Carlos' face had changed too, his jaw a little set and he'd lost all sense of relaxed teasing.

"They will, if they keep asking you to make choices like that. You are young, still, and you are supposed to be trusting in your team, why should you question them, ay? You shouldn't have to, not yet anyway," he sounded cross, and then he softened a little. "Dios mío, when I saw you in that car. You didn't move, Y/N, you weren't responding. There was a lot of smoke," his voice faltered for a second, and he stared out of the window, running a hand through his hair with a hard swallow. "I couldn't-"

But you didn't get to find out what exactly Carlos couldn't because the food arrived.

You ate the burgers in mostly silence, both of you more hungry than you knew from the long and stressful day. Burgers were absolutely the right call, and you told Carlos so as you sat, finally satisfied with a belly full of comfort food, picking off the last of your french fries. He seemed pleased with you, and you couldn't help but think how nice it was to have dinner with a man who was actively encouraging you to eat more, rather than questioning you for not choosing a salad. You told Carlos that, too.

"Food is important," he said it so simply, just a plain statement. You noticed he talked like that a lot, in relatively short sentences, all of which were perfect statements. He never seemed to invite contradiction or conflict, as if everything in his world was just simple facts. You couldn't help but find it addictive.

Once the food had been consumed Carlos rose without a word and collected the plates and glasses, neatly stacking them on a small table near the door.

"You don't have to do that," you started, standing to take the plates off him when you realised he was clearing up for you. Carlos turned, quite sharply, and met your gaze once more.

"I want to,"

There he went again, with those statements that you just couldn't argue over. You decided to let him have his way, and once he was done the pair of you retired back to the sofa.

"I'm sorry I don't really have anything to drink in here," you felt a little awkward, maybe it was the stubborn English culture kicking in that had trained an entire country to rely on copious amounts of alcohol at any social event.

"Cola is fine for us both, no?" You wanted to say no it was not, because your nerves were starting to return now you didn't have food to focus on and you would have quite liked a glass of wine or even a gin for a bit of liquid courage.

"Yeah, no of course it is," he had such a warm smile, you just wanted to be close to him.

"I would like to ask, why do you have your TV on always?" Part of you wanted to withdraw and lie, but he was staring at you with those wide eyes as if you held all the secrets he needed and before you could think you found yourself speaking honestly, for the first time in a while.

"I hate silence," you admitted "My head's always full, mind racing you know? Wherever I go I turn on the radio or the TV first thing and leave it on, it's just background noise really but it helps me drown out myself," you laughed awkwardly because you didn't quite know how Carlos would react to you telling him something quite personal, but he didn't laugh. He reached forward and placed a large hand on your forearm and squeezed lightly. When he leant back you could have sworn there would have been a burn mark in the shape of his hand on your arm.

"I understand,"

After you'd opened up to him it felt like part of the tension in the room had broken, and you found yourself relaxing again. He was still the Carlos you knew on the track, just as kind and funny and eager to please. Only now you were the sole subject of his attention. And you had to admit that whilst it was a little intense, you were loving every second.

The conversation flowed more naturally too, chatting about anything that came to either of your minds. It was easy and pleasant and it was only when he caught you stifling a yawn that the flow finally ceased.

"Are you tired?"

"No, I'm okay-"

"It's later than I was expecting," he acknowledged, nodding towards the clock on your bedside table that was reading nearly midnight. He stood despite your reasoning and you found yourself following him to the door. "This was really nice, but you need to sleep, to feel better,"

You knew where he was coming from and you agreed, but there was a strike of panic that suddenly shot through you as his hand closed around the handle door handle to leave.

"No, wait!" He dropped the handle as if it was electrified, that wide brown stare fixed on you, confusion and concern flashing across his features.

"I just don't think I want to be alone yet," you admitted to the floor, the sudden spike of fear that had shot through you was yet to subside and you could feel the icy cold shot of adrenaline making its way through your system, and not in a good way "Please?"

Your voice faltered and Carlos immediately stepped forwards, reaching to hold both of your upper arms as if to steady you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" That did it, the shock of the day and the realisation of everything that had happened crashed into you with full force and for a second you felt your breath hitch. Your vision started to cloud as your eyes burnt, and you had to look away to allow yourself to swallow and try to blink it away. But it was too late, the lump had already formed in your throat and the moment you blinked you felt hot, wet tracks streak down your face. Words were clearly not going to happen for you so you just gritted your teeth and managed the smallest shake of your head.

"No, no, Cariño, don't cry," without hesitation Carlos pulled you even closer, allowing you to bury your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you just enough to provide the pressure you didn't know you needed. You instantly felt safe in his arms, like nothing could get to you when you were there. And it wasn't long with your forehead pressed against his sternum and several steadying breaths that you managed to regain control of yourself. Carlos didn't move a muscle aside from one hand gently rubbing your back, keeping you tight in the hug and not even flinching away from the contact until you managed to find the self-control to push yourself back, at which he immediately released you.

"Sorry," you mumbled, still staring at the floor. Then you dragged your fingers under your eyes and across your cheeks, perhaps a little harsher than necessary and managed to look at him. The expression on his face wasn't difficult to read, but it was confusing because he was staring at you as if the two seconds of weakness you had shown had completely broken his heart. "Dunno what came over me. Here," you moved back into the living space of the hotel room and threw him the remote control which he caught with ease "Do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

He nodded, not pushing you to talk which was good because the short burst of tears had done nothing but further tangle the mess in your head. Deciding that having to be dragged out of your car by Carlos and then have him subsequently watch you both throw up and cry within the space of only an afternoon, what remained of your dignity was now in tatters and so you climbed onto your bed without a second thought, too tired to care what he might think of you. He waited quietly, gently turning the remote in his hands as he watched you get comfortable on your side of the bed. You decided getting under the covers would be a step too far but opted for propping yourself up against the copious pillows behind you and stretching your legs out. Only when you stopped moving did he join you, sitting close, but not so close that he was touching you.

Within seconds you found that you had drawn your knees up to your chest, hugging them as you used to do when you were overwhelmed in your earlier years. You watched quietly as he flicked through the Netlfix options, squinting slightly to examine the titles. For some reason, you couldn't shake the panicked feeling that hit you when the Spaniard had gone to leave your room.

"Did I hurt you?" Your voice was small, and you did not appreciate the wobble in your tone. Carlos' attention was temporarily diverted from the television as you found him searching your face once more.

"No,"

"Don't lie,"

"Well, it was a crash. You know how the G-force hits, the muscles get a little sore but I'm not hurt," the look on your face clearly said that you weren't buying it. "Y/N, I promise to you, okay? I have hurt myself more at the gym," the way his hand landed on your shoulder, right at the top, on your neck really, a thumb caressing your cheek so briefly you could have sworn it never happened, was just enough to convince you to drop it.

"Okay,"

"Okay," he nodded and went back to picking the movie. You wished you could be like that, so calm and collected, so seemingly unfazed by the chaos surrounding him. You let him decide on the film, it was an action movie and you didn't even recognise the title but you didn't care. You just didn't want to be alone, you didn't want to dwell on the inevitable, but even as you stared non-focused on the sword-wielding heroes in front of you, you could feel it bubbling still.

"If I lose my seat because of this I deserve it," you said finally. The second the words were out of your mouth you felt lighter like your chest had finally been released and some of the weight lifted off. Something subconscious uncoiled within you.

"Drivers don't get fired for mistakes," he said like it was nothing.

"But it wasn't a mistake, I was told to push on the corner and I did,"

"You didn't plan to hit me, so it's a mistake, you're not gonna lose your seat,"

"But-"

"No,"

"Carlos-"

"No!" Finally, you thought, he responded to your worries with something other than total nonchalance. "You are so talented, Y/N, you're one of the best drivers on the grid. Look at you, you're fighting for the world championship in a midfield car - that's incredible. They don't wanna be losing you, and this is their fault anyway. So no more losing seats, okay? I don't wanna hear it," his eyes were blazing, burning right into yours and his cheeks were just starting to show a pale pink flush. Judging by the heat in your face, you were as red as a tomato. You were about to open your mouth to say, well, something, but Carlos beat you to it with a simple gesture forwards, and so you both turned and carried on watching the film in a slightly more tense, but still amicable silence.

You found yourself relaxing as the film went on. Carlos' silence was actually quite pleasant, as he seemed relaxed too, leaning back against your bed with casual attention on the movie, not frightened to laugh or gasp along with it as he pleased. Mirroring him was almost too easy, and you allowed yourself to stretch out once more and relax your shoulders. If Carlos noticed, he didn't say anything, and you appreciated that.

You weren't sure exactly when it happened, but he dropped the knee of the leg closest to you out to the side, causing it to knock gently against yours. And he didn't move away. The next thing you knew your legs were touching, all the way from your hip down to your ankle. It wasn't a cuddle, just a light contact, but it was nice. You couldn't help but feel calmer just by being in his presence. Before you could stop yourself you were leaning into his side, so your whole body was just pressed against his. He had an arm draped over your headboard, and you wondered if he would put it around you, but he never did, allowing you full control of the situation and the level of touch you wished to seek from him.

He was warm too, so warm, even in just a t-shirt. You supposed it was his Mediterranian blood. It was like having your own personal heater sat right beside you, a heater that was suddenly very still and had a wonderfully rhythmic breathing pattern. You found yourself naturally synching with his movements, and the film seemed to be quietening into the background.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You must have fallen asleep then because the next thing you knew you were waking up for the second time in a pitch-black room. You were sweating, your heart racing and your skin sticky and unpleasant, the only thing you wanted to do was remove everything from your body, instantly. You ripped the covers off and shimmied the sweatpants down your legs, kicking them quickly away from you and revelling in the way the cooled night air hit your legs. You were about to follow suit with your top when it occurred to you that you had not fallen asleep alone.

However, there was an eerie silence that blanketed you now. All it took was reaching a hand out to the other side of the bed to realise what your sinking heart already knew, Carlos was gone. You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, and actually quite embarrassed that he'd felt the need to sneak away from you. But the digital clock was showing it was close to 3am and you weren't even fully conscious, so you allowed yourself to flop back down and sleep off the rest of the night.

When you did wake up naturally once more, it was late in the morning. After scrolling through your phone for a bit, and finding yourself disappointed and actually quite annoyed that you hadn't even had so much as a text from Carlos, you decided to have a shower and take advantage of the all-day breakfast menu in the restaurant downstairs. It was only after your shower when you were rummaging around searching for something that you spotted a piece of paper folded and propped up against your bedside table.

The note was addressed to you and written in a familiar loping script.

Y/N,

You fell asleep and I didn't feel good to stay the whole night when you didn't ask me to, so I went back to my room. I hope it didn't upset you that I was gone, if I am to be so confident to hope you missed me!

I wish to thank you too for dinner last night. I wish I had been able to know you like that a bit more sooner. Perhaps you would like breakfast tomorrow? I will wait for you to wake up.

Love,

Carlos.

He'd written you a note. A real, old-school note and he'd signed it 'love'. You found yourself grinning like a schoolgirl, your heart racing and your face felt hot even though there was no one around. There was no point pretending, you thought to yourself, what was the point? You'd realised last night something was different and he made you feel good. Plus if you were about to go through a very challenging period with Aston Martin, and maybe even finding yourself losing a seat or transferring to a different team, then why didn't you deserve to have a bit of fun in the meantime?

You changed into a sundress that you knew was far too pretty for the restaurant in the hotel, and spent a little time fussing with your hair and makeup before you picked up your phone. It was still before midday, so you decided to take control for once, and sent off a one-word text to Carlos,

You: Brunch?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Part Two here

Liked this? Check out my masterlist here

Dear existing followers, I'm sorry it's YET ANOTHER new fandom!! Am still writing my Obvious fic and I'm planning to get Chapter 4 out in the next 1-2 weeks whilst I'm still on a break before I start rotations and shit hits the fan! Plus I have some spiderman content and a little James McAvoy thingy in the drafts...

But over exams, I managed to develop yet another hyperfixation, this time on Formula 1 (probably because there was tons of content to gobble up and distract myself from the horror that was 4th-year exams, because oh my god they were BRUTAL) and shortly after deciding that I don't hate the sport I grew up watching nearly every Sunday and not once appreciating, I very quickly collected a new person to obsess over.

Anyway, non-F1 followers meet Carlos. He is Spanish and sexy and in my opinion quite underrated. I think he's a really interesting person and gives a lot of layers to himself which to me just begs to be written about. So I wanted to get this off my chest and kick start back into writing with something that's chucking free dopamine at me and not giving me insane writer's block for now.

F1 followers/fans, this is my first F1 fic so please be nice. Undecided whether to leave this as a single or add in a second part with some smut as is my style. Input would be appreciated!! Either way, don't panic I defo have more ideas for Carlos and maybe some of the other drivers too so more content and definitely smut to come.

Also, standard disclaimer, this is real person fiction, but it is still FICTION. F1 fans don't take the Aston Martin/Imola track and turn shit too seriously, I didn't write it with accuracy in mind and I know realistically an Aston Martin car atm is not gonna be a championship contender but I love Track Dad!Seb too much. With Carlos, a full disclaimer is in my masterlist, but this is a work of fiction based on the personality he gives during his work. It's interpretation, not accuracy and out of respect to his current girlfriend, this is based in an AU where he is single.

Happy reading and I hope to be around for a wee bit again!

Rage and Love,

Le Gremlin xx

Forever taglist: @graysonmalfoy @inumorph @lokilvrr @bookgirlunicorn @thinkwritexpress-official @samandstuffworld @faeriedelalune-blog @elthanin-sive-blog-blog @ispendmoretimehere-blog @drakesfiance @allonesharingonebreath @storm-howlett @daneel-the-sister-of-castiel @groovy-lady

Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Champagne Problems Part 7

A/N: Hello! I hope you all enjoy and don't kill me! ❤️ Thank you to my live @haterpenny. Gif credit to @mclarenpodium

✨Previous parts linked here✨

Warnings: Swearing, panic attacks, drinking.

Words: 5.4K

———————————————————

You woke up on Wednesday morning with Daniel fast asleep beside you. Nothing happened the previous night save for a few kisses. By the end of the second Ace Ventura movie you were both struggling to keep your eyes open and you were far too comfortable to move. 

You glanced down at his sleep-tousled curls, a tired smile spreading over his lips as your eyes met. 

“Good morning,” He said groggily, his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in a bit closer. Not quite ready to let go yet.

“Good morning Danny,” You replied softly. 

“I love when you call me that.” His voice was low and thick with sleep. It was a simple comment but it felt oddly intimate. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you.” There was a slight pause as he thought, his brows scrunching. 

“I guess there’s a lot I never told you.” He finally said, forcing a weak smile to his lips. You pursed your lips and couldn’t stop yourself from moving one of the stray curls on his forehead. You snuggled back into his chest, hiding yourself away in him. You would have been content to stay in that moment forever. 

“We should get up.” You muttered against him. 

“No, I think we should stay here.” Daniel responded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“We have training, we have media appearances,” Your voice trailed off a bit as the long list of responsibilities the two of you had ran through your mind. 

“No, I quit.” He replied simply, making you giggle. You tried your best to sit up, but he pulled you right back into him. You found it difficult to fight him.

“You’re a terrible influence.” You said with a smirk. 

“Thank you.” Daniel’s smile had returned at that. Again, you sat up and again he pulled you back down beside him. You let out a frustrated groan although you weren’t really upset. His face was only a couple inches from yours and you couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous he looked. His eyes staring back into yours like pools of golden honey.

“Once we leave this room… I just don’t know that I’ll ever get to spend this kind of time with you again.” He confessed, doing his best to avoid your gaze. That really let the air out of your sail. 

“I… I’m going to figure things out. I just need a little more time. I know it hasn’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry.” You told him, your fingers running over the astronaut tattoo on his arm. 

“No, I know the kind of pressure you’ve been under. And I should have figured out how I felt sooner. I’m sorry that it took this long.” You shook your head at his words but said nothing. 

“So, the big party’s tonight. Gonna get shitfaced? I’d love an excuse to.” You said, propping yourself up to gaze down at him and doing your best to change the subject. 

“Yeah? On a race weekend?” He asked, brows raised in surprise. 

“Well, it’s Wednesday. So definitely not the weekend.” You told him, a finger poking his chest. His head tilted back and forth in consideration. 

“Alright, fair. So how messy are we getting?” Daniel asked.

“Messy enough to forget about our problems.” You answered. 

“Sounds perfect.” He agreed. You couldn’t help but lean over and press a kiss to his lips. He held you tightly by your waist, milking the kiss for all it was worth. When you pulled away that time, he let you go. 

“Wanna meet for breakfast?” You questioned, peeking down at him as you stretched. You didn’t think there would be anything too scandalous about sharing a meal with your best friend. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Alright, I’m going to get a shower.” You told him while rummaging through your dresser for something to put on. 

“Is that a shower for two or…?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows raised in question. You pursed your lips and gave him a look. 

“No? Okay, got it.” He said with a nod, a sort of chuckle leaving his lips. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit.” You said before disappearing into the bathroom.

————————————————————

You and Daniel shared breakfast and mostly reflected on the start of the new season. You did your best to stick to business, talking about his new merch line, the McLaren updates he was a bit desperate for and some of the reliability issues you and Checo had been experiencing. 

“Doesn’t matter how fast I go if I can’t finish the damn race.” You had told him, earning a chuckle in response. 

When you finished your meal you promised to find him at the party that evening and parted ways. 

You caught up with Marsali and did an ab circuit and some cardio that thoroughly kicked your ass. On your way back to your room you stopped for a few photos and autographs and found yourself stunned at the popularity Drive to Survive had brought the sport in America. In Texas barely two years ago no one had any idea who the hell you were. Now you were stopped every hundred feet or so to be wished well- even by those with the number 44 plastered across their shirts. 

The party started around 7 and you got back to your room around 4:30. You took your second shower of the day before debating on outfits and how you were going to do your hair and makeup. The event was rather unusual for you and you had pretty much no idea what to expect. Likely some soft media questions, some drinks and some music. You chose to go with your team wear but decided to bring a short light dress to change into for when your press responsibilities were over with. Your phone buzzed as you worked on your hair. 

Carlos: I’m going to need a dance with you tonight. 

Your cheeks heated up at the thought. You felt a grin tugging at your lips as you wrote your reply. 

Y/N: The press will be there. You’ll have to keep it PG. 😏

While you would literally never pass up the chance to have Carlos near you, the idea of being so close in front of everyone concerned you. You weren’t looking for attention in that regard. But perhaps a shot or two would help quell those fears. After all- it was a party, right? Who could blame you for cutting loose and having a little fun? 

Carlos: I’ll behave if you will. 

You let out a groan at that. What the hell was he trying to do to you?

Images from your golf date with Carlos flashed through your mind. You remembered how lovely it felt to have him so near you, the way his kiss made your knees go weak. You were excited to see him again. 

Then your eyes glanced over to the bed you had shared with Daniel the previous night, a lump forming in your chest. You hadn’t been in the same place as the two men since the night at the club where this whole mess began and you had no idea what it was going to be like. You pushed the pessimistic thoughts out of your mind and tried to remember that the party was not the most important part of the trip. The first practice session was the next day and you were eager to get out on the track and see for yourself what it was like. You glanced into the mirror and smiled- it seemed you would be doing a lot of it that evening. 

You left the hotel in your team polo and a pair of high-rise black shorts that made your legs look extra long. Paired with some cute Vans, you felt comfortable and ready for whatever festivities the night would hold. 

When you got to the track you headed to the Red Bull garage to meet up with Checo and Christian. One of the members of the PR team, Patricia was fluttering about, talking a mile a minute about what to say, topics to avoid and how to behave at a F1 sponsored party. The only F1 events you typically attended were the races, press conferences and the end of the year award ceremony. But a party? With alcohol? And your two favorite people to makeout with? You were just the tiniest bit nervous. 

“So you know,  pretend it’s a press conference. Just smile and don’t have too many Heineken’s. They’re the sponsors so they’re passing them out like candy.” You chuckled until you realized this warning only seemed to be for you, Checo and Christian shooting you a knowing look with raised eyebrows. 

“Wh-what? Why are you looking at me?” You sputtered, mildly offended. 

“Let’s just say I’ve stopped a photo or two from going to the press. And when was the last time you saw Checo drunk?” You opened your mouth to protest but they had a point. 

“Yeah- fine. Bet no one said anything to Kimi,” You grumbled under your breath, arms crossed as though you had just been scolded by your parents. 

Soon the three of you were making your way backstage and you were already overwhelmed by your surroundings. You could hear the crowd on the other side of the stage, but really had no idea what you were in for. Your eyes wandered through the drivers wandering around, all hunching over into one another in an effort to hear over the booming music. Before you could catch sight of Daniel or Carlos, you were being shooed into a line up of sorts. You realized Mattia, Charles and Carlos were in front of you. You poked right between the 55 printed across the back of Carlos’ shirt. His head whipped around and the minute his eyes found yours a big smile was spreading across his cheeks. 

“Oh- hola,” He said, his voice lowering into a bit of a hush as he leaned in towards you. 

“Hey. This is… weird, right?” You asked, unsure of why you had decided to grab his attention in the first place. It just seemed wrong for him to be so near and not have his eyes on yours. 

“Yes, weird. But it should be fun-” Carlos was cut off as he rushed a bit to keep up with his teammate. You listened as the emcees announced the Ferrari team and took a shaky exhale as you were next. 

“Now let’s welcome Sergio Perez and- here comes Trouble- our championship leader!” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes just a little bit. You stepped out from behind the curtain and became acutely aware of the way your heart was beating. There had to be thousands and thousands of people below, all watching you with bated breath. You were the picture of perfect composure, a well-practiced smile on your lips as you waved a wave pretty enough to make pageant queens envious. At some points in your career, you truly couldn’t see the difference between racing and pageants. 

Christian stood beside the two of you, looking very much like a proud Papa. 

“How are you feeling to be here in Miami?” They asked you, handing a mic your way. 

“Damp. It’s very humid.” You said, coaxing a laugh from the interviewers. 

“No, we’re thrilled to be here. The city, the food, the people- everything is beautiful.” That earned a cheer from the party-goers. 

“And how are you feeling about your chances of extending your lead?” There was that damned question again. 

“Fingers crossed! We have the team, we have the car, we have the drive. We’re ready to make it happen.” You answered, Christian nodding his agreement over your shoulder. Of course that was the only answer you could give. 

They turned to Checo and he spoke in Spanish- of course the crowd went bananas. You loved seeing him get that kind of response- he was a wonderful teammate and you genuinely celebrated his successes. 

Thankfully after that the three of you were out of the spotlight, with the Mercedes boys stepping up behind you. 

“Fuck that.” You muttered under your breath, so relieved that portion of the evening was over. You never had a problem speaking to the press, but standing in front of a literal sea of people was intimidating in a way that you had not been expecting. Usually you could hide behind your helmet or your car- but being out in the open made you feel exposed. 

You were pulled back to the present at the sound of Daniel’s hearty laugh. His voice echoed through the speakers as he talked about the car’s new updates and his excitement for the race. Then they brought up his helmet and he was doing his Ace Ventura impression and you couldn’t help but smile at his antics. 

You often found yourself envious at the way people couldn’t help but adore Daniel. He fed off of people’s attention and it all seemed so easy and natural for him. You did not have that same kind of comfort in front of the crowds. People doubted your ability, talked down to you and always asked you questions that never seemed relevant to the sport. Questions like ‘How do you balance having a love life and racing?’ or ‘How do you stay in shape to keep up with the other drivers?’. You always did your best to smile through the misogyny and drive the car as best as you could. But Daniel- even when confronted with uncomfortable or just plain rude questions- took it all in stride and won his critics over; it was a part of his magical Ricciardo charm.

You stood as more teammates and principals walked out and more questions were asked and answered. You did your best to look interested, but still you found it difficult to ignore the thunderous way your heart was thumping. Your desperation to be literally anywhere else was growing exponentially with every passing second. After what felt like hours, the formal portion of the evening was coming to an end. You posed for photos and spent a few minutes making small talk before finally being able to make your escape.

You vanished into a private room and slipped into your light dress, hoping it may make breathing in the heat a bit easier. Then you were forcing yourself back out and into the chaos.

You climbed down the little stairs and into the VIP section, hoping to mingle and hide among the crowd. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt a hand on your arm. 

“Ready for your first drink of the evening?” Daniel asked, a beer outstretched in offering. You had no idea how he’d gotten them so fast. You happily accepted nonetheless. 

“Yes, please.” You took a generous first sip, hoping it would distract you and cool you down a bit. 

“This whole thing… It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” You hollered up at him, hoping your tone sounded more casual than you felt. Dan didn’t seem to be buying it, his brow furrowed as his eyes scanned your features. His hand gently rested on yours. 

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, leaning in ever-closer in an effort to keep your comments private. You put that same winning smile back on. 

“Yeah- great, I’m great. I just would love a distraction.” You yelled back. 

“Too many eyes,” You added, hoping that would be enough for him to catch your meaning. Almost as if on cue, Kygo began playing and Daniel commandeered your beer, setting both yours and his on the nearest table. 

“Come on,” He said, outstretching his hand towards you. Normally you would be extra cautious about dancing with Daniel in public, but some drivers were dancing with their friends and guests so it didn’t seem like it would raise too many eyebrows. Every one knew how close the pair of you were, and as long as you didn’t let things get too intimate you thought it would be fine. Plus, Daniel wasn’t trying to seduce you this time- he was trying to make you laugh. Daniel busted out his most embarrassing moves- almost like he was in Pulp Fiction. You were giggling and just doing your best to keep up as Dan took your hand and spun you. It wasn’t at all pretty- you stumbled over yourself a little as he maneuvered you into a dip. You almost toppled over, but somehow he kept you on your feet. The pair of you had your heads thrown back in laughter as you broke apart, the light from a flashing camera catching your attention. The photographer nodded their thanks before moving on to photograph Toto and Lewis who seemed to be talking over drinks. Just as you went to speak you felt a finger tap your shoulder. You turned away from Daniel and there stood Carlos. He had a smile on his lips- but it was different from the one that you were familiar with. 

“You don’t mind if I cut in, do you Daniel?” You could barely hear the exchange. For the first time you saw Daniel’s calm exterior crack just the slightest. His usual big grin fell for just a moment before he put it back on. You glanced between the two men, unsure of what to say or if you should speak at all. 

“Of course not.” Dan glanced at you, as if to see your reaction. You did your best to avoid his gaze and smiled weakly. You barely registered a nod from Dan and then he was grabbing his beer and disappearing back into the crowd. You felt a pang of guilt but you had been nothing but honest with him and Carlos was already slipping his arms around you. You were swaying to the music but you didn’t feel much like dancing. It seemed like everywhere you turned there were expectant eyes anxiously watching your every move, asking questions you couldn’t answer. You didn’t know if you would be the next world champion, you didn’t know which man you wanted to be with.

You dropped Carlos’ hands and took an abrupt step back. Immediately a look of concern flashed over his features. 

“Are you okay?” He questioned, his brows pressed together in confusion. 

“Yeah- I, I just need a minute.” You backed away, quickly looking around for an escape route. You dodged past Lando who shot you a look, and almost ran straight into Toto Wolff. You tried to feign a smile before apologizing to the wall-of-a-man, and then you were back on the run. You made it backstage, but there was still far too much activity going on for your liking. You wandered a bit until you found yourself alone and you slumped back against a wall and slid down to a sitting position. Your chest heaved as you did your best to breathe, your shaky hands coming up to put your hair behind your ears. You dropped your head, tears streaming down your cheeks with abandon. Everyone was so busy partying, they didn’t seem to notice your absence. You just couldn’t hold it in, your body ached and you tried to focus on getting your breathing back under control. You were so out of it, you didn’t even realize someone had followed you. 

“Hey- it’s okay, everything’s fine.” The voice startled you and you looked up through glassy eyes to see Lewis Hamilton. Normally you would be embarrassed- mortified even, for him to see you in such a state but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He sat beside you, his elbows resting on his knees, worried eyes watching yours. 

“Just breathe, yeah? Come on, in 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4. Out, 1, 2, 3, 4.” He said in a calm and even voice, joining you in the breathing exercise. You nodded and did as he instructed. Something about the way he spoke and hearing his breathing line up with yours really did have a calming effect.

“Good, again.” He told you, holding your gaze as you saw his chest fill with air once more. The two of you sat like that for at least five minutes before you found yourself capable of speaking. You wiped your bleary eyes and forced a smile. 

“Thank you. I- I don’t know what happened.” You said finally finding it in yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I’m embarrassed,” You muttered, hiding behind a slight chuckle. 

“No, come on. This stays between us. I know exactly how you feel.” Lewis placed his hand on your shoulder as he spoke. Usually the two of you had short, polite exchanges, but you never expected for him to see you in such a vulnerable position. 

“I’m a mess.” You groaned. 

“No, you’ve got a lot going on. Working for the championship… it’s not easy. Even with the right team and the right car. I know what it’s like to feel alone here.” You chewed at the side of your lip as you considered how much you and Lewis really did have in common. You watched as he stood. 

He offered you his hand and helped you to your feet. 

“You’re not alone. We’re competitors, but we can be friends too.” He told you. You were touched by his sincerity. 

“I would like that.” You agreed. He extended you his hand, but you pulled him into a friendly hug. Once you released one another, you weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“Do you want to go back to the party?” Lewis asked, his thumb pointed back towards nthe chaos where you now heard- was that Joe fucking Jonas?

“Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks again, really.” You told him sincerely. 

“Anytime.” 

The two of you emerged back into the crowd and went your separate ways, a nod in each other’s direction. You grabbed yourself another beer and focused on enjoying the music. You kept your eyes away from Carlos and Dan’s, eager to focus on yourself and having a good time. Instead you found Seb, huddled over with Mick in the corner. He had on his Miami 2060 First GP Underwater tee on, and you couldn’t help but smile at just how ‘Seb’ the message was. You pointed your finger over at him, and beckoned him over, a big goofy smile on his features. He gave in and set his drink down and made his way over to you. If you thought Dan’s dance moves were bad, Seb’s were way worse. It was exactly what you needed to distract yourself. After a minute you went and grabbed Mick and forced him to join in, an embarrassed blush settling over his cheeks. The two of you had overlapped a bit already in your racing careers and you were thrilled when he got the call to F1. He and Seb were like your weird little work family and you were more than happy to make a fool out of yourself with them beside you. 

Between songs you went to grab a drink and found Daniel there, likely on his fourth beer or so with his elbows leaned back on the bar and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you.

“You should come join us.” You said, nudging your elbow towards your two favorite German dorks dancing disjointedly only a couple yards away. 

“The life of the party.” He said with a smirk. 

“I was thinking I might head out.” Dan told you and your smile fell a little. 

“Yeah, okay. I probably won't last much longer either.” You replied casually. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He asked suddenly, catching you a bit by surprise.

“Y-yeah, of course I know that.” You replied with a faltering smile, taken aback by his sudden sincerity.

“Well, I hope you have a good night.” He told you simply and you nodded.

“Yeah- you too, Danny.” You grabbed your drink and headed back to dancing. Mick and Seb did a great job of making you forget about the panic that had so recently been flowing through your veins. Especially because Mick was a lightweight and a very goofy drunk. 

The three of you hung out for about another hour before you decided to call it a night. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally. You wished Seb and Mick a goodnight and thanked them for being your distractions and watched as Seb guided a very wobbly Mick into the backseat of a car. 

You laughed and shook your head before you wandered over to the entrance where you planned to meet with Marsali for a ride back home. 

While waiting for her you heard your name in Carlos’ low voice. 

“Are you okay? You kind of disappeared earlier.” You bit at your lip and glanced towards the ground. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a rough minute there.” You explained. He nodded knowingly. 

“Alright, well how about a nightcap?” He asked sweetly just as your trainer pulled up in the Honda that had been deemed yours for the weekend. You considered his invitation for a moment before deciding you weren’t up for it. 

“Sorry, I’m ready to call it a night. Maybe later this weekend though?” You offered, hoping that wouldn’t discourage him. 

You bid him goodnight with a hand patting his shoulder gently, and then you were climbing into the car and heading back to the hotel.

The rest of the weekend went by fairly quickly- you had at least a dozen public appearances to make and had no time to yourself, which you were pretty grateful for. Your busy schedule kept you out of your head and helped you focus more on the race ahead. You hadn’t been given a chance to reschedule with Carlos, though you had bumped into him once or twice around the paddock. 

Before you knew it, it was Sunday afternoon and you were stretching in your race suit in your driver’s room. Marsali was doing her best to hype you up, making jokes and playing your favorite playlist to get you in the right mindset. 

Soon it was time- you climbed into the cockpit and tugged your helmet on. You thought about your encounter with Lewis back at the party. 

In, 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. Even though having a panic attack in a public place was an absolute nightmare, you were almost grateful it had happened. It gave you a peek at a much different Lewis than you were used to. You were two different generations of drivers, so you had never gotten the opportunity to be particularly close. It wouldn’t make him less intimidating in your rear view mirror, but it reminded you that you weren’t alone. The two of you knew what it was like to be an underdog, maybe more so than the other drivers on the grid. 

“Alright, Y/N. Just go out there and do what we all know you can.” Christian’s voice came in over the radio. 

“Got it.” You answered simply, determined to keep your cool. You flipped your visor down and rolled out onto the track, taking pole position and coming to a stop. You had managed to outqualify Hamilton as Mercedes struggled with a mechanical issue and a poorly timed yellow flag in quali. Leclerc had snagged P3 followed by Sainz, Perez, Norris and Ricciardo. 

You led the pack during the warm up lap, weaving back and forth on your soft tyres as the other 19 drivers did the same. You slowed your pace as you hit the grid, hoping to let Albon and Latifi catch up a bit before you took your spot. 

Finally you were all in position, eagerly watching the red lights blink, blink, blink before going out. You were roaring away from the start, doing your best to keep your eyes locked ahead instead of on any possible first- lap carnage that may happen behind you. You hardly ever made it through a first lap without a yellow flag, and this race wasn’t an exception. After flying down the rather long straight and taking the turn easily enough yourself, you heard your engineer through your headset. 

“Big crash, yellow flag. Yellow flag.”  You glanced in your mirror to try and figure out who it was, but all you could really see was debris. You slowed your speed before taking another peek behind you. You still saw Hamilton, Leclerc, Perez and some papaya- though you couldn’t be sure who. 

“What happened? Who is it?” You asked, feeling yourself tense. The radio stayed quiet. 

“Hey- who is it?” You repeated, letting your annoyance shine through. 

“Ricciardo- Ricciardo and Sainz.” Your stomach dropped. 

“Are they okay? Are they out- what happened?” You asked as calmly as you could- you knew your radio would be available for people to listen to after the race and you wanted to keep your composure- even if it was a lie. 

“I will keep you updated.” Well what the fuck did that mean? 

“Are they out?” You asked again, louder. As if perhaps he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time. 

“They are getting out.” You sighed your relief at that. Your team was well aware of how close you and Daniel were and any time he was in an incident they did their best to shield you from it so you could focus on yourself.

“Are they going to red flag it?” You asked, doing your best to keep your head down and follow the Aston Martin in front of you. If there was a red flag you could maybe sneak away for a moment and go check on them. 

“Negative. Mostly large debris and they’re removing the cars now.” You clenched your jaw. You wanted to know what the hell happened. You wanted to see for yourself that they were both okay.

Usually you loved hiding away in your car. You used it as a sort of escape from reality. It was a place in which you could be completely selfish in the pursuit of victory- push yourself to be the absolute best that you could be. But at that moment it felt like a prison. You were confined to it for the next hour and fifty minutes. 

“They’re both headed to the medical tent.” Fuck. You didn’t reply for fear of what your voice may sound like. 

Soon you were nearing the accident space, your car slowing to nearly a crawl to avoid the bits of wings and side pods littering the pavement. The wreck did look big- and it was into a concrete wall rather than the many well-cushioned spots along the track. The longer you followed the Aston the more you tortured yourself wondering about what had happened and if they truly were okay. Finally after passing the scene another two times, you were given the green light for the race to continue. 

“Alright- let’s stay focused.” You knew Christian meant well but you wanted to tell him to fuck off. 

“Ricciardo and Sainz are back in their garages. No serious injuries.” You were grateful to hear that, but until you had your eyes on them you couldn’t let yourself relax. 

It took literally all of your experience and training to get you through the rest of that race. Every time you saw Hamilton crawling up your side you reminded yourself to breathe. You successfully held him off and extended the gap between you to about three seconds where you held a comfortable lead until you crossed the finish line. 

That victory- you didn’t feel like celebrating. Every lap felt like an eternity and all you wanted to do was finish the race as quickly as you could. You weren't even that concerned about winning- you just didn’t want to let your team down. 

You pulled into your designated spot and quickly removed your steering wheel and unhooked your helmet from the HANS device. You still felt full of adrenaline and you hopped out of the car, handing your wheel off to the nearest engineer. 

“Y/N, you need to speak to the media and then get ready for the podium.” 

“I’ll take the fine.” You said absently as you passed Patricia and headed towards the garages. 

As you trotted off towards the garages, it hit you. 

You knew exactly who you wanted to be with. 

Sorry guys but my tags aren’t working and tumblr keeps crashing. This was as many as it allowed! Love you guys!

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Everything Has Changed

A/N: Gif by @khelgad -Okay everyone, sorry for the long wait, but it's here! This chapter definitely got away from me a bit and became its own beast. I was hoping to fit SO much more in but decided to ultimately break it into two separate chapters. So the next update should be coming sooner rather than later! I'll officially announce it in a day or so! As always feedback is loved and encouraged! Thank you to my love @haterpenny for all of the inspo. ❤️

Words: 6K, Warnings: Swearing, alcohol.

Masterlist here (Previous parts linked there)

-----------------------------------------

You spent the next two weeks trying to focus on training. You stupidly hoped that some distance between you and your simultaneous paramours would help, but you were no closer to making a decision than you had been the last time you saw them. 

The Miami GP was shaping up to be perhaps the most ridiculous race you had ever attended, complete with a pre-race party that you had been roped into attending. Normally you would love an opportunity to party alongside drivers and even fans, but you just weren’t in the right mindset for it. Christian had promised you would be a part of the event, which meant fake smiles and probably too many selfies to count awaited you, along with pretending that nothing was wrong. 

Things with you and Daniel had been a little awkward. He lived one floor below you in your building in Monaco, and you were constantly bumping into one another in the lobby or the elevator. When you were both home you usually spent several nights together, eating pizza, having sex, building pillow forts. Now, you hadn’t seen him in days, and the distance was starting to take a toll on you. You even missed training with him. 

So, after almost two whole weeks of avoiding one-another, you had had enough of it. You ordered Daniel’s favorite from the pizza place- two pizzas, and bought a bottle of red wine. You’re supposed to have red with Italian food, right?

You gave his door a nice knock and waited, doing your best to balance your peace offering without dropping it all over the floor. Finally he tugged it open, his features looking slightly confused to see you standing there. 

“Y/N?” You didn’t allow him to finish whatever he was going to say. 

“Hi. I hate how things have been lately, and I just wanted to come spend the night with you. Are you free?” You asked, big eyes peeking up at him hopefully. A big smile spread across his cheeks. 

“Come on in.” He grabbed the pizzas from you to lighten your load,  and pressed a kiss to your cheek before leading the way back into his place. You sauntered in and set the wine on the counter before hunting around for his corkscrew. He flipped open the box and grabbed a slice, sighing happily as he bit into it. 

“How did you know this was just what I needed?” He asked, munching away as he watched you struggle to get the cork free. 

“You’re breaking my heart, kid. You should be able to open wine by yourself. What else have I been teaching you?” He feigned annoyance, swiping the bottle from you and popping the top with ease. 

“Or you’ve just made me dependent on you for alcohol.” You said, your eyes narrowing suspiciously. He waved his hand dismissively, as though that were a ridiculous notion and made you giggle. He poured you a generous glass as you started tearing into the pizza, realizing just how starved you were. 

“You excited for Miami?” You asked with a full mouth- it was Daniel, you weren’t concerned about maintaining your manners. He let out a bit of a laugh. 

“Thrilled.” He replied, only a bit sarcastically. 

“They’re having a principal parade.” You told him with raised eyebrows, raising the red to your lips. 

“Oh God, can’t wait to see that.” He laughed, reaching for another slice. The conversation gave way to silence, and you couldn’t help but think about how silent your life had felt for the last week. Still, you felt determined to not talk about your relationship. You much rather felt like pretending everything was fine. 

“How are you feeling about the car?” You asked, referring to the rocky start of Daniel’s season. You knew how frustrating it had been for him, and you knew how desperate he still was to win. 

“What are you doing?” He asked suddenly, catching you by surprise. 

“I- I just wanted to know how it was going.” You replied innocently, a piece of pie drooping sadly in your grasp.

“No, I mean what are you doing, showing up here with wine? Acting like nothing has changed?” Your felt a bit of anger flare up in your chest and you set your pizza down to give him your full attention. 

“Yeah, because I’m the one that changed everything.” You said with far more sass than was necessary. Immediately, you took your face in your hands, doing whatever you could to hide from the look that would be on Daniel’s face. 

“Danny- fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to do this.” You said, feeling absolutely defeated. Maybe you were mad at Daniel and you hadn’t even realized it. All you wanted to do was come and spend time with your friend and blow off some steam and it was quickly becoming clear that that wouldn’t be possible anymore. 

“Alright, this was a mistake. I’ll get my own flight to Miami, I’m sorry I stopped by.” You closed up one of the boxes of pizza, claiming it as your own. Daniel sputtered, but you didn’t pay him any attention as you made a swift exit. Maybe you had been naive to hope that you could spend the night with Daniel without recent events coming up. You went to the elevator and struggled to press the button, the box precariously balanced in one hand. 

You got back to your place and collapsed on your couch, feeling drained and lonely. One of your favorite parts of being in F1 was sharing the experience with Dan- now you were worried you’d lost that.

Daniel watched in confusion as you left, completely unsure of how he had so quickly lost control of the conversation. With every passing day he was more and more concerned that he was losing you, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it except sit around and hope you’d choose him. 

When he saw you he felt his heart swell in his chest, so relieved to have you near- but it quickly shifted to anxiety as he wondered if it would be the last time he’d find you at his doorstep. His first instinct was to take you in his arms and kiss you- it had been weeks since you had been together and he realized he wasn’t just hungry for sex, he was hungry for you. 

Having been alone so much the whole  week, Daniel spent most of his time thinking about your current predicament and his nerves were starting to take a toll on him. He knew that if you were going to pursue a relationship with Carlos, he wouldn’t just lose a fuck buddy. It would change the entire scope of your friendship and each interaction would have to be carefully conducted in order to avoid any possible scandal. His touch could never linger, his eyes would have to move away from yours despite his deepest desire to hold your gaze. Daniel wasn’t prepared to face that possibility, and seeing you so carefully avoid your current situation made him worry that your heart had already chosen Carlos. 

He fell back onto his couch, a slight groan rumbling in his chest. If he could have just been patient, maybe you would still be sitting across from him. Maybe he could have made you laugh- your nose wrinkling in that way he loved. Maybe he could have touched you- kissed you, to remind you how right it felt. 

Instead he wondered if Carlos had been kissing you. Could he make you feel as good as Daniel knew he could? Suddenly he was desperate to get the image of you and the Spaniard out of his mind. He grabbed his phone and shot you a message. 

—————————————————————

You ate the rest of your pizza while wallowing in self-pity. You wracked your brain, trying to decide how the hell you were supposed to pass the time by yourself in your flat. You weren’t used to being alone so much, there was often such a flurry of activity around you that you had become accustomed to it. 

Your phone dinged. 

Big Dick Ricc: I’m sorry 

Y/N: I know. So am I.

You replied, tossing your phone aside. You had nothing to say and assumed that was as good of a reply as any. You laid back on your couch and stared at the ceiling, wondering what you could do to distract yourself. You considered asking Lando if you could join one of his streams, or you thought about messaging Charles to ask him to meet you for a drink. 

Instead, you decided to eat pizza until you physically couldn’t anymore, and in your guilt you scheduled an extra session with your trainer. 

The bits of the track you had seen looked interesting, but the whole affair was certainly over the top and ridiculous. Still, you were excited. You hadn’t gotten to experience many ’brand new’ tracks, and getting to christen one felt significant to you. You were planning to stick around Miami for a bit after the race to enjoy some rare down time before getting ready to head to Barcelona. 

Your phone buzzed with a message from Carlos. 

You had been texting and shared a few video chats throughout the week and you did your best to refrain from speaking about your ‘almost’ relationship. He had, however, asked you to join him and Lando for a round of golf once you arrived in Florida. You warned that you were not a golfer and told him you would surely ruin their good time. Still, he insisted, and you accepted the invitation. 

Carlos: Enjoying your night? 

You pursed your lips in thought, wiping the back of your hand over your tired, misty eyes. 

Y/N: I’d enjoy it more if you were here.

You replied, thinking about just how much you meant it. Ever since he managed to confess his feelings for you things had been easy and comfortable. You avoided speaking about anything too serious, and he respected whatever space you sometimes needed. 

Carlos: I’ll catch a flight 

Carlos: Don’t tempt me 

You smiled at that. Part of you had actually considered inviting him to stay with you for a few nights. It was a short flight, and you had the time- apart from some training and simulator work. However the prospect of embarking on a sex life with him made you nervous. Crossing that line would not be easy to come back from and if he was sleeping beside you your resolve would chip away until you were on your knees for him. 

Y/N: You know I love to tempt you

You shot back, a little grin creeping across your cheeks at the flirtatiousness of it all. You texted a bit more before he said something you weren’t quite expecting. 

Carlos: How are things with Daniel? 

You froze at the words, your mind racing anxiously just from reading his name. 

Another text quickly followed. 

Carlos: You don’t have to talk about it

You just stared at the messages for a moment, hoping the perfect reply would pop into your head. You figured you may as well  be honest as there really was nothing happening between you and Daniel. 

Y/N: He keeps his distance. 

Y/N: Haven’t seen each other much. 

All you wanted to do was open the emotional floodgates and tell Carlos about how isolated you felt. Having Daniel so far away was a strange and new feeling, and it was something you were worried you would have to get used to. 

Carlos: I’m sorry, I know you’re close. 

Was Carlos actually sorry? Or did the distance between you and Daniel make him feel more secure? You decided not to question his motives and chalk it up to genuine concern. 

Carlos: I can’t wait to see you. 

You felt tense when the words flashed across your screen. Mostly because you were excited to see him too. 

You continued to send each other messages while you packed. You had  reached out to accommodations and asked to be on a different flight, claiming you wanted to get to the track earlier, so you were going to leave the next morning. It was a twelve hour flight, and you didn’t want to spend it avoiding eye contact with Daniel. Your hand hovered over your TRBL X DR3 hoodie as you considered whether or not to take it. You threw it in your carry-on. 

You woke up that next morning rearing and ready to go, hoping that the sooner you left Monaco the sooner you could leave your problems behind. You had a few last minute decisions to make, like deciding which design to go with for your special helmet. 

You climbed onto the jet and plopped into your seat, immediately getting yourself as cozy as you could without the use of Daniel’s comfy shoulder. Then you had your iPad out and began analyzing the track and watching back some of your sim work to be as prepared as possible. Just as you began to feel reality slipping away from you, your phone buzzed. 

Big Dick Ricc: Last night should have been different. 

You didn’t know what to say. It was your own fault for trying to set boundaries with Dan, and then immediately abandoning them. You knew he must be confused, but to be fair, so were you. 

Big Dick Ricc: I fucking miss you

You could almost hear the words leaving his lips. The hurt look he had given you the previous night was still fresh in your mind. You threw your head back in frustration before finally responding. 

Y/N: I miss you. And I’m sorry about last night. 

You were effectively ruined for the rest of the flight. You had no idea what the hell you were going to do, so you ordered a glass of wine and started writing your feelings down. You thought perhaps getting them out of you and onto paper would help you see things more clearly. It didn’t. 

You finally arrived in Miami feeling truly exhausted and jet lagged after such a long trip. Another weekend, another hotel room. You got settled in and climbed into the big, fluffy bed while you awaited the arrival of your room service. It was Monday night- and your golf date with Carlos was the next morning. 

You couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be doing if you were with Daniel. Surely he’d be forcing you to watch Ace Ventura as he had brought it up every five minutes since they announced the Miami GP. You decided to put it on anyway. 

Once you truly couldn’t take the silence of your own company anymore you actually chose to go for a run. You kept a cap on (not a Red Bull one) and AirPods in, doing your best to look like any other casual jogger, hoping to remain unrecognized. Which was a bit difficult with posters of you and the other driver’s faces plastered all over town. Still, you were able to get a solid workout in before heading back to your room. 

You spent the rest of the evening just trying to get time to pass, studying the circuit and working on reaction drills before getting ready for bed early. You were meeting Carlos and Lando the next morning at 9 am, and you were a bit nervous. You didn’t know anything about golf and you were sure to be criticized relentlessly by Lando for it. Usually you would just bring Daniel along, but something told you that probably wouldn’t be the best idea. 

The next morning, Carlos was at your door right on time. He looked so cute, dressed in some shorts and a light blue polo- maybe golf wouldn’t be so bad. You’d opted to wear a little tennis skirt you had found in the bottom of your dresser back home and a white collared top. You always saw Albon’s girlfriend in things like that, so it seemed good enough for you. Before you could say anything he was leaning forward and pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks in greeting. You chuckled and tried to play off how much it had flustered you. 

“It’s good to see you.” You told him- your voice sounding almost a bit shy and unlike your own. 

“It’s good to see you too. I’ve been looking forward to this.” He admitted, leading you down the hallway and back towards the lobby. 

“I am going to be very bad at this.” You told him, trying to hide your nerves with a bit of a chuckle. 

“Good,” He replied casually, making you furrow your brow in confusion. 

“You can’t be good at everything.” He said teasingly. You laughed at that, struggling to think of something you were good at beyond motorsport. Soon you were in his Ferrari heading to a golf course so fancy you didn’t even know how to pronounce it. 

There were many times you routinely felt out of place among your colleagues- this was one of those times. 

You went to rent the golf cart- which you were hoping to drive- when you bumped into Lando. 

“Y/N,” He greeted. 

“Muppet.” You responded with a nod, bringing a grin to his lips. You and Lando had basically perfected brother/sister banter at this point.    

“You ready to lose?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge. As much as you hated losing- and especially to Lando- you couldn’t deny that he was right. 

“Oh I expect to lose miserably. I can’t even play putt putt.” You told him. 

“Right. And why did you bring her?” He asked, shifting his gaze to Carlos who simply rolled his eyes in response. 

“I know it’s not to make you look good, because I’m going to destroy you.” Lando continued on. 

Thankfully the attendant was back pulling up in the cart before Carlos had the chance to reply. 

The three of you climbed in, Carlos squished between you and Lando. The weather was surprisingly pleasant for May in Miami, and the course was littered with trees that offered some much needed shade. 

You drove out to the first hole while discussing what you had all been doing for the last week.

Once you arrived, Lando wasted no time hopping out and rummaging through his clubs, looking to find just the right one. 

You turned your eyes to Carlos and watched as he did more of the same before finally muttering “perfect” and removing the club from the bag. 

“I hope you know I have literally no idea what I am doing.” You warned, slightly alarmed at the amount of focus you already saw the two former teammates showing. 

“I know, I’ll help you.” He told you happily with a slight shrug. Lando decided it would be best if he went first, so he grabbed a ball and a tee and stuck it down in the immaculate green. You watched as he considered the distance and the wind before finally taking a satisfying whack at the little ball. You watched, admittedly a bit impressed as the ball sailed on towards the first hole. You tried to take note of his stance, but his movement was so fluid and quick that it was basically a blur to you. Then Carlos was shooing you to go next. 

You tried to mimic the pose you had just seen Lando in- legs shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, hands- overlapping? No, that didn’t seem quite right. 

You could feel their eyes on you as you struggled to get the positioning right and it made you feel a bit silly. Before you could ask for help, Carlos was standing beside you, his hands reaching for yours. 

“May I?” He asked. You nodded. He took your hands and guided them along the grip of the club, his touch giving you a bit of a chill even in the Miami heat. 

“You want to keep your grip there.” He instructed before turning and putting his hand on the small of your back, encouraging you to straighten your spine a bit. 

You swore you could hear Lando’s eyes rolling from behind you. 

Carlos guided you through the motions, showing you exactly where to start your backswing and how to swivel your hips through your downswing. 

Now you understood why he took you golfing. 

The first time, you missed. The second time- you missed. You laughed it off and returned to the pose he had taught you. Finally that third time you hit the ball and it went a good bit further than you had anticipated. Nowhere near Lando’s impeccable shot, but for your first attempt you were pleased. Carlos appeared to be as well. 

“Good! That was good!” He told you excitedly, a smile spread across his cheeks. You weren’t sure if he was humoring you or being honest, still you chose to believe him. Carlos took his turn next, a shot equally impressive to Lando’s. 

The next few holes continued on that way, with Carlos and Lando in a competitive game and you about 15 strokes behind them. Or ahead of them. You really had no idea what was going on. You couldn’t help but scoff at how seriously Lando took the whole thing- at one point he nearly lied down on the green, his body contorted into some ridiculous position as he surveyed- well, you didn’t know what. You captured the moment in a sneaky photo and posted it to your story on Instagram, tagging Lando and writing a joke about how much he looked like a praying mantis. 

At around the sixth hole some dark clouds started rolling in, but the boys didn’t seem to mind. Carlos was far too focused on ”helping your posture“ to notice. He would watch you mime your swing a time or two before clicking his tongue in disapproval and moving closer to you, his hands skimming over your form a bit longer than necessary. Finally Lando had had enough. 

“Oh, get a room.” He groaned from behind you, clearly not appreciative of the public displays of affection that Carlos seemed so comfortable with. 

“Jealous?” You asked eyebrow quirked teasingly. 

“I can’t believe I was rooting for you two.” He replied with mock disappointment. 

“I’m sure Carlos wouldn’t mind helping you with your swing too,” You offered, eyes glancing towards Carlos’ brown ones to see him smiling at you. 

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.” The Brit replied smartly, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Ignore him.” Carlos almost whispered before directing your attention back to the tee. His hands moved back to your hips, helping you sway them as you slowly acted out your swing once more. Then he took a step back and allowed you to take your shot. Although he definitely seemed keen to have his hands on you- you had to admit, the ball went much further and the motions felt much more natural. 

“See? You’re a natural.” Carlos told you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. 

You felt a blush creeping up your face but hoped you could blame it on the heat. 

“Come on, or you’re walking to the next hole.” Lando warned, having believed he’d been patient for long enough.

“You’re not very fun to play golf with.” You told him, moving out of Carlos’ grasp. He feigned being hurt, a hand to his chest as though you had wounded him. 

“I’d just like to finish before midnight.” Lando replied. Then he glanced around at the menacing skies and made a face.

“Or before the world ends. Whichever comes first.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. 

“You go on ahead.” Carlos told him, waving his hand to convince his friend. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough golf for one day.” You agreed with a nod. With a slight shrug, Lando was off, speeding onto the next hole, yelling that he would catch up with you later. 

You turned to Carlos who was smiling widely, his eyes looking rather adoringly at yours. 

“What did you think?” He asked. 

“Definitely harder than it looks.” You told him, truly having a newfound respect for the sport as a whole. 

“And I think I need a drink.” You added, shooting him a little wink. Before he could respond, the floodgates finally opened, and an angry, heavy spray of rain began to fall from the sky. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, your clothes already completely soaked through. You watched the rain flatten Carlos’ hair, little droplets falling down his forehead and nose rather mesmerizingly. His smile faltered minutely as his hand came up to caress your cheek, and you gulped at the intensity. Then he was pressing his lips to yours, his arms wrapping strongly around you. You felt completely consumed by him and his touch, your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt to keep him as close to you as possible. For that one beautiful moment, you thought of nothing other than Carlos- not Daniel, not the media, not the championship. Just the way his touch made your body hum with excitement and longing. The kiss was deep and passionate, his tongue battling with yours for dominance. His fingers carefully tucked some of your wet hair behind your ear, his nose nudging against yours gently. The kiss felt like it lasted forever, but it was still over all too soon. 

The two of you glanced up at the sky, blinking back the drops that showed no sign of slowing down. He offered his hand and you accepted, and the pair of you ran under an awning attached to the clubhouse. You couldn’t help but stare at the way his drenched polo hugged his broad shoulders, or the way he ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to keep it out of his face. You closed the space between you and captured his lips in another kiss, catching him a bit by surprise. You swore you could feel him smiling against you, his hands falling onto your hips. 

“Mi corazón,” He finally spoke, his voice a bit lower than usual. You could get used to a nickname like that. You bit at the edge of your now puffy lips, eyes innocently looking up at his, as if you didn’t know the effect you had on him. 

“You drive me crazy.” He told you, his head shaking slightly, as though you couldn’t understand what he meant. 

“Yeah? And what about what you do to me?” You asked as the rain continued to pour around you. 

“I was doing just fine, then you…” You struggled to find the right words. 

“You changed everything.” You finally said. He offered a small smile as his hand reached for yours. 

“I know. I don’t want you to feel pressured. You said you need time, you can have all the time you need.” Carlos’ voice was tender but soft as he spoke. The sweetness in his gaze was enough to tug at your heartstrings. 

“I’m sorry I-” You were about to apologize for the lack of answers you had to give when he dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. 

“Stop. You’ve got enough on your mind.” He moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, effectively centering you. He was right. You were grateful that neither he nor Daniel had put any pressure on you for immediate answers. They both knew the kind of stress you were under and while limbo wasn’t a fun place for them to be, they knew you had it worse. 

“Let’s get you dried off.” Carlos said, breaking you away from your thoughts. You glanced down at your all-white outfit and realized the press would have a field day seeing that your undergarments had been exposed by the rain. You were just a little embarrassed, a sheepish smile passing over your cheeks as you crossed your arms over your chest in an effort to hide the light pink bra that was suddenly very noticeable. Carlos somehow remained the perfect gentleman, leaving to duck inside the clubhouse before returning with a  couple towels for you. You thanked him and did your best to dry off, watching as the rain continued to fall. 

After a few moments, you decided you were as dry as you could get and asked Carlos if he would be interested in that drink. He agreed and followed you inside, slipping a protective arm around you. 

You ordered a Paloma and Carlos did the same. You stuck your damp hair in a messy bun and accepted the drink gratefully. 

“You excited for the party tomorrow?” Carlos asked, looking for a more neutral topic of conversation. You raised your eyebrows- either at the drink’s strength or his question- you weren’t sure. 

“Oh, I can’t wait.” You replied, just a bit sarcastically. 

“I think it’ll be fun to have everyone together. We don’t get to do that much. But I’m just anxious to get on the track.” You elaborated, earning a knowing nod in return. 

“I think it’ll be fun. Different. Might be nice to break up what we’re used to.” He said optimistically. 

“Until this championship fight is over, I’m going to be anxious. It’s almost easier when you’re not in the running.” Your brows shot up at the admission. “I mean- I don’t want to complain. This is what we all want. It’s just a lot of pressure, you know?” You tried to backtrack on the statement a little, worried you would sound insensitive complaining about your success, but Carlos seemed to understand. 

“I know. And your position is unique. But I’m rooting for you- just in case that wasn’t clear.” He told you, a bit of that perfect smile flashed your way along with a disarming wink. Carlos knew about the stress that plagued each driver- but to be the first female in F1- the first female championship contender- it was like you had the weight of your entire gender on your shoulders. A win for you would mean a win for every woman that had ever aspired to be a part of motorsports. You didn’t want to let them and all of the people that had believed in you down. 

You were grateful and let out an exhale you hadn’t realized you had been holding in. Just as you went to ask Carlos how he felt about the car this year your eyes caught sight of a very damp Lando Norris wandering up to the two of you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his droopy self, his wet shirt clinging to his lean but admittedly muscular torso. 

“Get a little wet, Norris?” You asked with a smirk. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one.” He said, nudging his head in your direction. You bit at the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying the dirty joke you wanted to make. 

“I'm heading back to the hotel if you want to come.” He said evenly. 

“Yeah, probably a good idea. I’m freezing.” You said, your clothes still mostly drenched, but hopefully a bit less see-through. 

“I can tell.” Lando replied teasingly, earning an elbow to his ribs from Carlos. Again, you crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes. 

“Gimme a sec.” Norris said simply before walking off towards… you didn’t know what. You shrugged and turned back to the bar and downed the rest of your drink. 

“Is it that bad?” You asked Carlos, the idea of any photos of you in a pink bra and black panties making their way online made you shudder. 

“It’s… not great.” He replied a bit slowly, unsure if honesty or a white lie would be the better way to go. You groaned and cursed the day golf was invented. And Florida, for that matter. 

In a moment Lando reappeared, a sweatshirt draped over his arm. 

“Here.” He handed you the cozy jumper, the name of the golf course plastered across it. 

“Better than nothing, right?” You were grateful. 

“Norris, your genius is showing.” You told him while tugging it on over your head. 

“Thank you, seriously.” You added, and he nodded in return. 

Carlos closed out your tab and the three of you left. 

The former teammates were staying at a different hotel, so they dropped you off which you appreciated. You were dying to get into some dry clothes, and you assumed that a McLaren, Ferrari and Red Bull driver wandering through the lobby together wouldn’t go unnoticed. However in your current state, you were able to slip in and up to your room without any eyes lingering on you for too long. 

You changed into your pajamas and ordered up some room service as you planned to spend a quiet evening alone before the chaos of race weekend started. You devoured your pasta dinner, and headed to the bathroom to wash your face when you heard a knock at your door. You furrowed your brow in confusion and glanced through the peephole. You felt yourself tense at the sight of Daniel. You opened the door but stood firmly at the threshold. 

“Daniel? What are you doing here?” You asked, genuinely surprised to see him before you. 

“Marsali gave me your room number.” He explained. Marsali was your trainer and friend, and she knew how close you and Daniel were. 

“Ah.” You replied stupidly. 

“Look, I know things have been… weird. And I’m sorry- I hate it. But you mean too much to me to let anything come between us. I just want to spend time with you, anyway you’ll let me.” You smiled gently. 

“I miss you too, Dan. Come on in.” You told him, opening the door the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but notice his smile widen as he followed after you. You climbed into bed and grabbed the TV remote. 

“I know exactly what we’re doing.” You said, pulling up the search bar and typing in ‘Ace Ventura’. His eyes widened with excitement. 

“God, yes.” He sighed happily, settling beside you. 

You felt extra aware of how close he was, but he made sure he wasn’t touching you. You decided to break the tension for him and rested your head on his shoulder. You could feel him relax a bit and he wrapped his arm around you. The two of you relaxed and soon things felt like old times.

He laughed along, loudly quoting the most iconic lines as you pretended not to be amused. It felt so right to be back in his arms, hearing his laughs echoing around you. Soon you were tangled up, your head resting on his chest as his fingers absently carded through your hair. You couldn’t help but listen to the comforting sound of his heart thumping beneath your ear, your eyes skulking over the tattoos his short sleeves exposed. Being so close to him felt like going home, like you could finally relax. You realized you were looking at Daniel more than you were watching the movie. Before letting yourself overthink the consequences, you sat up and pressed a kiss to his lips. You could tell you had caught him by surprise, but he readily returned the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh at the feel of you. His whole demeanor changed, like he could finally breathe. His hand cupped your cheek sweetly and you could tell there was some desperation in his kiss. Like if he were to stop you may disappear. Finally, you were pulling back to breathe. 

Incredibly, he said nothing. No flirty jokes, no teasing, no smug grin. Instead you saw what looked like relief in his eyes. 

“I was worried I may never get another chance.” He said sadly, trying to hide it behind a chuckle. You didn’t know what to say. You were hoping that maybe a moment like this with Daniel would give you some clarity and help you decide which of the two men had truly captured your heart. Instead you were just as confused as ever. 

So you curled back up against his side and watched the rest of the movie, blatantly ignoring the panic bubbling up in your chest. 

The only thing you knew for sure was that you were going to have to make a decision by the end of the weekend.

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This Is Me Trying

A/N: Hello friends! Happy Monday! I hope you enjoy Champagne Problems Part 5! Any and all feedback is always appreciated! Thank you @haterpenny for everything, love youuuuu. Next week is going to be wild, guys.

Masterlist Here

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol. Think that's about it!

Words: 5.6K

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“We need to talk.”

Daniel’s eyes made their way over you. You had a look on your face that he wasn’t very familiar with. It was more than just sad, or angry for that matter. He set the bottle of champagne down on the credenza beside the door and moved towards you, reaching for your hands in concern. You avoided his grasp, and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I don’t want to talk about this here. Let’s just go back to the hotel.” You said, turning on your heel and going to the little bathroom to change. You returned a moment later, dressed in some leggings and your team polo. 

“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He asked, his voice suddenly much softer than his usual goofy booming one. 

“Dan, I want us to talk. In private.” You replied through gritted teeth, grabbing the backpack you had stowed your things in and heading for the door. Daniel followed, the champagne and celebration long forgotten. 

He followed you out of the paddock, and to the private driver’s entrance where your rental car waited. You climbed in and Dan followed suit, sitting mostly in silence for the fifteen minute ride back to the hotel. Your mind was working a mile a minute, trying to find all of the words that you wanted to say to him. You couldn’t figure out why he would withhold Carlos’ visit from you. The only reason your little arrangement had worked so well all this time was because you were always completely honest with one-another- or so you thought. You gave the keys to the car to the valet and stopped out front of the hotel to greet the smattering of fans that awaited, you and Dan smiling bigger than ever. You did your best to stop for a moment for each fan, signing shirts, hats, and taking photos. Dan did the same, but there was something about his smile that didn’t have that same carefree charm as it usually did. After a few minutes you thanked them all for their support and went into the hotel, heading straight into the elevator and up to your room. Finally, with the door closed and locked behind you, Daniel couldn’t bear the silence anymore. 

“What is going on?” He asked, his nerves starting to give way to frustration. 

“Why did you lie to me?” You asked, dropping your bag abruptly by the door. 

“What? I didn’t-”

“Dan, did Carlos come by last night?” You cut him off, your hands on your hips as you waited to see how he could possibly rationalize his actions. He sucked some air through his teeth and thought for a moment before finally replying. 

“Yes. He stopped by.” He finally admitted, doing his best to avoid the anger in your eyes. 

“And you thought I didn’t need to know that? Come on Daniel, why wouldn’t you tell me?” You questioned. 

“I was trying to protect you.” He sighed in response, almost like it sounded stupid to say out loud. 

“What does that even mean? It’s Carlos.” You replied with a furrowed brow. 

“The last time you were together- when he ditched you. You were really upset. I hated seeing you like that. And you were finally sounding like yourself again, I just… I didn’t want him to hurt you.” Daniel answered, his demeanor one of regret. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but your expression made him think better of it. 

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dan.” You finally responded, your own tone softening at the sight of the wounded puppy standing before you. 

“I disagree.” He told you, shrugging simply. 

“Y/N, I love you. I have since I first met you. I should have told you about Carlos. I was wrong, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to see you upset again.” Okay, that was a pretty good apology. You pursed your lips, and looked at the man that you had spent so much time beside. Sure, Daniel could be an absolute idiot sometimes, but his intentions were always good. Still, there was one thing you couldn’t help but wonder. 

“Are you jealous?” You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes, a part of you worried that he may laugh at you. 

“Jealous?” He repeated, as if considering it for the first time himself. 

“Maybe I am.” He finally replied, shrugging slightly. You didn’t know how to respond to that. You didn’t think he would actually agree. 

“W-what does that mean? I thought the great thing about us was the no strings?” You sputtered, thinking out loud instead of choosing your words carefully. 

“I wouldn’t say that’s what makes us great.” Daniel looked so serious, you found it a little unsettling. When you decided to confront him, you never thought you’d end up here. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you grabbed it. 

Carlos: Does tonight work? 7:30?

You felt nauseous. You didn’t know what any of this meant. You knew you loved Daniel, but you’d never let yourself consider the possibility of having an actual romantic relationship with him. Nothing scared you more than the idea of losing him, and if things were to go poorly between the two of you, you would never get over it. 

“Is that him?” He asked, reading your expression like a book as you stared at your screen. You chewed on your lip for a second and considered lying yourself, but decided against it. 

“Yes. He asked me out to dinner.” You told him softly. 

“Well you should go. It’s what you want. And I really am sorry. I promise I won’t interfere.” Daniel was being oddly mature about the whole thing. Something about the way he spoke made your heart ache. 

“I can't believe you’re doing this now.” You mumbled under your breath, mostly to yourself. 

“It wasn’t the plan.” He said, as if that would make you feel any better. You stayed quiet and kept your eyes glued to the floor in an effort to fight the tears that you thought may well up at any moment. 

“Look, I don't want you to worry about us. No matter what happens, we’ll be okay. We can talk about this more later. You should go out. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.” He told you sincerely, likely in an effort to reassure you. You couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse. How could you possibly focus on Carlos when you had this conversation floating around in your head? Part of you was angry that he’d told you all of this. This was exactly why you and Dan had been together- to avoid messes like these. Still, you knew he hadn’t done any of this maliciously- he was just a big idiot. 

“Alright. Well… I love you too. You’re a pain in the ass.” He chuckled at that and you couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. You didn’t want to be mad at him, you didn’t want this weird air between the two of you. His embrace felt comfortable and you allowed yourself to relax in it for a moment. Then he was heading out the door, leaving you to stand in shock, replaying the conversation over and over again in your mind. You had never really considered that Daniel may have romantic feelings for you. Now that sounded naive and silly, but really, you just never thought about settling down or pursuing something more serious with him. 

After a sharp exhale, you sent a text to Carlos. 

Y/N: 7:30 sounds great. I’ll see you then!

You decided to push the conversation with Dan out of your mind and went to get ready. You tossed your polo aside and glanced through your dresser, trying to decide just how fancy you should look. You decided to go for a black romper adorned with pink lace flowers, something soft and feminine as opposed to the usual race suits and teamwear he usually saw you in. You took your time doing your makeup and your hair, thinking about your conversation with Carlos earlier that day. You thought about the way he touched you, the feeling of his lips on yours. It was so different than all the times you had been with Daniel. You were annoyed with the two men, and all of the drama that seemed to be unfolding. Maybe Seb was right- maybe you should just swear off men entirely. 

Before too long you heard a knock at your hotel room door. You finished clasping your pink platforms and made your way over, pulling the door open. Carlos stood there, a big smile spread across his face. He had a small bouquet of flowers clutched in his right hand. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the gesture. 

“Wow, you look… Beautiful.” He said, his eyes a little wide as he glanced down your form. 

“Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You replied with a little wink. He did look rather handsome, a black dress shirt on with some black dress pants. Damn, he looked good as hell in all black. 

“These, they’re for you.” He said, moving the flowers closer to you, as if you didn’t know. 

“They’re lovely, Carlos. Thank you. Let me slip these inside.” You turned and left him waiting there, sticking the carnations in  one of the water glasses that housekeeping had left for you. They really were lovely, and it felt like a very ‘Carlos’ thing for him to do. Then you were standing before him once more. 

“Vamos,” You said, bringing a little grin to his lips as you turned and wandered down the hall together. 

The valet went and fetched Carlos’ silver Ferrari, one he drove on race weekends. You almost thought about asking for another car to garner less attention, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. He had worked hard to be a part of the Ferrari team, and you were happy to let him show you a little bit of his world. 

Plus, you didn’t often get the chance to be in a Ferrari, and you were hoping you could convince him to let you take a turn behind the wheel. 

Finally, after about fifteen minutes you arrived at what looked to be a quaint bistro. Carlos had been spending a lot of time immersing himself in Italian culture. You knew very little Italian, just the basics to get you through a race weekend. Carlos however talked to the restaurant host with what appeared to be confidence, which you would have certainly lacked. You were impressed, raising your brow with the ease in which he spoke. 

The host nodded and gestured for the pair of you to follow him. Carlos allowed you to lead, and followed closely behind as you were escorted to a table tucked away in a romantically lit corner. You were grateful for this, as you were hoping to stay away from any of the media’s prying eyes. Carlos pulled out your chair before taking his seat across from you. 

He seemed just a little nervous and not like the ‘smooth operator’ his nickname suggested. You were handed a menu, and you glanced at it, trying desperately to pick out words and dishes that were familiar to you. He seemed to notice you struggling slightly and decided to try to help. 

“So lasagne al forno is just baked lasagna. And tortellacci is prosciutto and cheese stuffed tortellini, pretty much.” He explained as he pointed at some of the different options. Whenever you were in Italy, you usually stuck to pizza and the pastas you knew how to pronounce. Instead, you decided to try something different this time. Carlos placed your order for you, and you were relieved he had saved you from butchering the pronunciation. Then you managed to order yourself some wine- if there was one thing Daniel had taught you, it was how to get wine no matter what part of the world you were in. And there you went, thinking about Daniel again. 

You expelled him from your mind and focused on Carlos and the adoring way in which he was looking at you. In the dim candlelight he truly looked as if he were glowing. 

“You did brilliantly today- I don’t know if I told you.” You said, pausing politely for a moment only as the waiter returned with a bottle for the two of you. A bigger smile spread across his lips. 

“Thank you, it was a good race. If I couldn’t win, then I’m glad it was you.” He replied, raising his glass in cheers. You lightly tapped your glass against his before taking a sip, your victory as good as anything to drink to. 

“I’m just glad we’re doing this. That day when you left… I was really upset about it.” You confessed, trying to hide your expression behind the brim of your glass. Carlos furrowed his brow, his smile dropping a little. 

“Yeah, I was too. I know, I should have just talked to you. Lando told me-”

“Lando? Of course, that explains it.” You chuckled a bit, thinking about Lando’s odd behavior on the plane that very same day. No wonder he’d been so suspicious, clearly he was just trying to protect his friend. You explained Lando’s not so subtle investigating and Carlos laughed, shaking his head and lightly rolling his eyes. 

“Are you sure he’s not in love with you?” You asked teasingly, pulling yet another laugh from him. 

“Ha-ha. I could say the same to you about Daniel.” He replied in a similar tone, although you found that much more difficult to laugh at. You quickly changed the subject, asking about how he liked being a part of Ferrari and if it was possible to get any work done with Charles as a teammate. He told you he missed Lando of course, but he loved where he was and he felt like he was finally starting to reach championship contender level. Your conversation flowed as easily as the wine did, and the food was absolutely heavenly. You found yourself wishing you could stay in this little bubble for a while. Just you, Carlos and all the absurdly decadent food Italy had to offer. 

Then you began to discuss summer vacation and what the two of you enjoyed doing the most outside of F1. 

“What do you do on holiday? Aside from posting shirtless photos of yourself.” You asked cheekily, trying to think of a conversational topic that didn’t pertain to work or other drivers.

“Are you telling me you don’t like them?” He asked, pretending to be hurt. You rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t think that’s what I said.” You teased, earning a smug grin from him. Carlos then told you about how he loved being able to go home any chance he got to spend time with his family. He talked about the plethora of sports they enjoyed together, and of course that he always made time for the beach- as if Instagram didn’t make that obvious. He told you about Piñón, his smile widening as he did so. 

You smiled, thinking of the glimpses of his family that you’d caught on the track and on Drive To Survive. They seemed incredibly kind and close knit, and you didn’t hate the idea of getting to know them better. 

Truthfully, you were a little envious that Carlos had gotten to grow up with racing in his blood. It was different for you; your parents were working-class and used all of the extra money they had to get you through karting. It didn’t come naturally to your family, and there were many growing pains as your career advanced. The first time you’d gotten into a kart was mostly by accident, but you were hooked immediately. It belonged to a cousin of yours, and you were only about four when you first climbed behind the wheel, determined to keep up with the older kids. In that moment a passion began and it consumed you. 

Again, it made you feel different from your colleagues, as the majority of them were born to race. You felt like you spent years trying to compensate for being a woman, and catch up to their money and their names, and prove that you belonged. Whenever you performed exceptionally well it was deemed a ‘fluke’, and you couldn’t help but feel like that part of your job would never end. 

And now you sat across from Carlos Sainz Jr, while you battled with Lewis Hamilton for the championship. That dream- the sacrifice, the passion, the countless hours of practice- it had all brought you here. 

So when Carlos asked more about your parents, you explained the lengths they went to keep you in the sport, and the way they had always supported you. Still, you found that imposter syndrome lurking in the back of your mind, doing its best to undermine your accomplishments and hard work. You didn’t frequently share those feelings with the other drivers on the grid, because you didn’t want it to sound like you were complaining. But still, it weighed on you heavily. 

You caught yourself rambling, but his big brown eyes looked captivated, his hand cradling his chin as you spoke. There was something about his demeanor that made you want to open up to him. He was curious but didn’t pry, and he contributed while truly listening to everything you said. You grabbed your napkin and gently dabbed at the side of your mouth, suddenly feeling embarrassed by just how much you had shared. He seemed to have that effect on you, you completely lost yourself in his company. You thought back to that night in your hotel room, where you told him about your greatest hopes and some of your most intimidating fears when you had barely spent any time alone with him at all.

“And I’ve talked about myself entirely too much.” You chuckled, glancing down at the food that you should have been eating instead of droning on and on. 

“No, I don’t think so. I want to get to know you, I’m happy you feel comfortable enough to share.” He replied, sounding so reasonable, his shoulders raising slightly in a shrug. 

“I want to know you.” He added, his voice just a touch deeper as he eyed you from across the table, bringing his wine glass back to his lips. You nearly gulped at that. 

Dinner was delicious, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to make room for dessert, until you heard about the gelato. Carlos offered to share, and that seemed like an offer impossible to refuse. He ordered you chocolate, and the son of a bitch pulled his chair around to the side of the table to make it easier to share. He gathered a bit on the spoon and began to raise it to your lips- and it was corny as hell, but damn were you turned on. He held your gaze as you parted your lips and sucked the spoon clean, your eyes flashing up suggestively at his, for just a moment. He cleared his throat minutely, his jaw clenching slightly. You grabbed your spoon and dug in, feeding him just as he’d done to you. You deliberately missed his mouth, just a smidge, making him chuckle slightly as he licked the rest off of the spoon. You leaned over and gently ran your thumb over the spot of chocolate before licking it off, making Carlos’ cheeks flush that bright pink color. Sometimes you liked doing things to deliberately throw Carlos off- making him blush made you feel sexy and desirable. 

“You really are trouble, aren’t you?” He asked lowly, reaching over to brush some of your hair behind your ear. You grinned at that, biting your lip just a little. 

“That’s what they tell me.” You responded, thinking about just how sweet his lips would taste in that moment. 

Just as you were building up the courage to lean over and peck his lips, the waiter was appearing with your bill. It broke your little trance and Carlos quickly swiped it, not even allowing you the opportunity to fight over it. 

“Carlos, at least let me split it with you.” You suggested, placing your hand on top of his in an effort to pause his movements. 

“No, nonsense.” He answered quickly, already handing his card off. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help at the smile that fell over your features. 

Soon he was standing, and gesturing for you to lead the way. His hand slid onto the small of your back as you walked, the little touch setting your chest on fire. As the valet went to fetch your car, you caught sight of a few race fans across the street, decked out in their team wear, and you took a step away from Carlos. He looked at you with concern, until he saw them too. 

“Should I just get a cab home?” You asked lowly, trying to gauge his reaction. 

“There’s nothing wrong with us having dinner.” He said, shrugging slightly. You flashed him a look- you figured it had to be rather clear that the pair of you were on a date. The last thing you wanted was to see photos of you on a gossip site, at least not until you hard sorted out all of the feelings that you had. 

“Ok. Fine. Two friends, having dinner.” You agreed with a nod, trying to convince yourself that that wasn’t suspicious at all. 

Then his Ferrari was pulling up, and although you said it was fine, you tried to stoop into the car as quickly as possible. You settled into the passenger’s seat and he sped off, a sort of awkward silence falling between the two of you. You felt like you were doing everything you could to avoid the elephant in the room- Daniel. 

“I had a good time.” Carlos finally said, breaking the silence first. 

“Oh, yes. I did too, it was lovely.” You said, smiling as his eyes briefly met yours. 

“I would love to do it again.” He said, sounding almost cautious, like you were an animal he was afraid to startle. 

“I would too.” You responded truthfully. You were grateful a few moments later when he pulled up to the hotel. You suddenly felt as though you were suffocating in that car, thoughts of both of the men you cared so deeply for flashing through your mind. 

He opened your door, breaking your train of thought, and offered you a hand to steady yourself as you stood. The staff allowed you to enter the hotel through the service elevator, allowing you to slip inside unbeknownst to the prying eyes of the waiting tifosi camped out in the lobby. 

You spoke about the next race on the calendar as you walked- Miami. A new city, a new circuit. The whole grid had been buzzing with excitement- mostly at the thought of Cuban food and beautiful beaches to explore. Racing in a new city was always extra exciting, but you were glad to have a two week break to prepare yourself before being thrown back into the chaos of a race weekend. 

Before long, you were standing at your hotel room door, the two of you shuffling for a moment, unsure of quite how to proceed. Then your gaze met his, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He moved closely to you, backing you up against the door, until he had trapped you. His hand gently touched your cheek, his eyes narrowing in contemplation as he looked at you. You felt your breath catch in your throat in his proximity. 

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. 

“Yes.” You lied. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, his hand sneaking around your waist and closing what little distance remained between the two of you. When he pulled back you were the one blushing- all of your thoughts of pulling him into your room and dropping to your knees for him. But your damn conscious- it made you hesitate. You weren’t in a position to be fully committed to Carlos, and you didn’t want to lead him on. 

“I’m not ready to be exclusive.” You burst out, although he certainly hadn’t asked. He furrowed his brow a bit, clearly not expecting that. 

“I… I have feelings for you, Carlos. Like, strong feelings. And I want to be honest with you- I’m overwhelmed and I’m conflicted with life right now. I’m not ready to make a commitment. And I don’t even know if that’s what you want, I just don’t want to hurt you.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even consider what you were going to say. He took a slight step back and you feared for the worst. 

“Okay, I understand.” He said simply. When did everyone around you become so goddamn mature? Your face must have accurately shown your confusion. 

“I can wait. If you need time.” Another response you were not expecting. 

“Really?” You questioned, a sigh of relief falling from you. 

“Really. I just want you to be honest. If you need time, I have time.” How did that make you want him even more? You thought about inviting him into your room, but you weren’t sure if that would be sending mixed signals. You leaned up and pressed another kiss to his lips, trying to satiate your growing desire for him. You didn’t want to have sex with him for the first time with the day’s events still fresh in your mind. 

“So, maybe we can do this again?” You asked hopefully. He reached up and gently ran his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“Yes, we will.” He said definitively, nodding slightly as if to reassure you. “I’ll text you.” He told you, before kissing you once more and turning to walk down the hall. You stood there, just kind of frozen, a smile on your face when he turned back to sneak one more glance at you. 

You collected yourself for a second and swiped the key card for your room, sauntering in and plopping down on your bed. You lied there and thought about what a picture-perfect date that had been. 

You truly felt so conflicted, but decided you wanted to find Dan to finish your earlier conversation- you also kind of wanted to tell him about the date. After all, he was still your best friend. You slipped into some more comfortable clothes, and stuck your head out of your door, peaking to be sure Carlos was gone. 

Once you saw that he was, you headed over to Dan’s and knocked. After a moment of silence you knocked again, but to no avail. You tried to call him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. 

You hopped on the elevator and wandered down to the lobby, his sudden disappearance not sitting right with you. 

You wandered over to the desk, thankful that the race weekend was officially over and there didn’t seem to be any people camped out waiting for you anymore. 

“Hi- sorry, I just had a question. Has the guest in room 1220 checked out?” You asked quietly. The man behind the desk finally glanced up at you, a slight recognition sparking in his eyes. He seemed a little hesitant, but pulled up the information without too much of a fuss. 

“Yes, it looks like that guest left an hour ago.” 

Sonofabitch. You muttered back a ’thank you’ through clenched teeth and headed back up to your room. 

You got into the shower, trying to drown out your frustrations, but it didn’t help. Part of you considered going back to the lobby and finding a perfect stranger- perhaps a bartender- for you to vent all of your frustrations.

You couldn’t believe Daniel had left. You were supposed to fly back home to Monaco together the next day. 

You decided that you’d just continue on with your original plan, although it would certainly be a far more boring commute. Thankfully it was only a three and a half hour long flight. 

You went back to your room and considered drinking the little whiskey bottles that sat in your minibar but decided against it. You knew getting shitfaced wouldn't help you solve your problems. Still, you spent your night tossing and turning, and the next morning you were glad to be getting on the plane. You wanted to confront Daniel- and it wasn’t like he could avoid you- you were neighbors for fuck sake. You spent most of the flight stewing, the empty seat beside you serving as a constant reminder of the sudden distance between the two of you. You put on your headphones and settled back into your seat mentally mapping out everything you wanted to say to him.  Maybe Seb was right, once again you found yourself consumed by thoughts of Carlos and Daniel rather than the fight that you still had in front of you. You took a moment to reminisce about the race, determined not to forget that the weekend had been a victory for you. 

Before you knew it the plane was landing and you were grateful. As soon as you could you shot out of your seat, got your bag, and took off. You grabbed a cab back to your apartment and went straight to Dan’s doorway rather than your own. You knocked as loud as you could, working through the script you had written yourself in your mind. After a moment, the door finally opened. Daniel looked pretty exhausted, his curly hair disheveled, his eyes looking a bit droopy with sleep. He offered a weak smile. 

“Hi.” He said simply. 

“Hi?” You replied harshly, no interest in hiding your annoyance. You pushed past him and into the threshold of his home, dropping your bags carelessly. He closed the door and slowly turned to face you. You were reared and ready to tear into him, but he beat you to the punch. 

“Before you begin, I want to say sorry. I couldn’t- I couldn’t just sit in my room. I just needed to get out of there. I’ve had a lot to think about.” He told you carefully. Something about seeing Dan speak so seriously made you uncomfortable. You were used to bad jokes and pick up lines, but melancholy self-reflection was never a good look on him. You stood with your arms crossed and waited for him to continue. 

“You were right, we’re easy. We’ve always been easy. But, I was thinking about all of the great things in my life- the things that make me the happiest- and all of those things bring me back to you.” You felt your chest tighten a bit at his words. 

“You’re my constant- I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner. I knew you didn’t want something serious, and I thought I didn’t either. But the thought of losing you, or seeing you with someone else- it made me realize how stupid I was being. I want to be the person that you celebrate all of your wins with. I want to be with you on your worst days. I want you, and I’ll always want you.” Dan said finally, his voice shaking just minutely. You felt a tear slip down your cheek that you hadn’t realized was brewing. 

“Danny,” You really didn’t know what to say. All that time planning out what you wanted to tell him, and it was all gone in an instant.

“And I know it might be too late,” He continued on, slightly avoiding your gaze. 

“And if I am, that’s my fault, and I understand. I’ll still be here for you.” Daniel said lastly, nodding at his words as if to prove how much he meant the sentiment. You stood and stared, mouth slightly agape as you considered how to respond. 

“Please say something.” He finally pleaded, a bit of that smile you knew so well spreading across his cheeks. 

“I don’t know what to say.” You finally choked out, finding yourself truly speechless. You gave yourself just another moment to gather your thoughts. 

“I need time, I think.” You finally squeaked out. 

“I know I love you too, but. I just need some time to think. I really do care for Carlos.” He winced a little at that bit. But you wanted to do everything you could to be honest. You’d been best friends with Daniel for three years, and he’d never once hinted at being interested in a relationship. Why the sudden change of heart? You didn’t want to make any hasty decisions, especially when it came to the feelings of the people that you cared so deeply for. 

“Can we just… Pretend everything is normal, please?” You sort of blurted out, some tears still streaking your cheeks. 

“Just for one more day, can we pretend like nothing’s changed?” You asked a little desperately, looking at him with pleading eyes. He reached out and pulled you into a hug. He ran his fingers through your hair and pressed a light kiss to your forehead. 

“Yeah, of course.” He mumbled, keeping you close to him. It felt so good to be back in his arms, his touch had always made you feel so relaxed and safe. But you knew the reprieve would be short-lived. You only had two short weeks before the Miami GP and you didn’t want to have Daniel and Carlos in the same place without being able to offer some clarification on your feelings. For now, you only wanted to order a pizza with Dan and pretend that everything was absolutely the same.

So that’s what you did.

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Mad Woman

A/N: This part is a bit shorter than the others, but we're starting to really get to the good stuff! I hope you enjoy! Also feel like I manifested that Carlos/Daniel drama. 😬 Thank you as always, @haterpenny. Also gif credit to @f1errari ❤️

Words: 3.5K

Part One, Champagne Problems

Part Two, I Knew You Were Trouble

Part Three, It's Nice To Have A Friend

Warnings: Swearing? More idiots being idiots? Drinking, some references to smut.

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You awoke with Seb’s words ringing in your ears. It was race day, and you were going to win. You visualized yourself on the podium, hoisting that trophy over your head, the determination coursing through your veins once more. 

You and Daniel went for breakfast, and you were likely terrible company as you were too focused on securing victory. Daniel nudged you in your side, trying to coax a smile out of you. 

“Oh, I know that look. Trouble’s coming.” He teased, succeeding in making you smile. 

“I’m just focused. That’s all.” You said innocently. 

“No, no. It’s good to see a fire in your belly.” Daniel told you, shooting a wink your way. 

“You better stay out of my way. That’s all I’m going to say.” You replied cheekily, finishing off your omelet. 

“This have anything to do with Ferrari at the front of the grid?” Daniel asked with raised brows. 

“Nope. Just about taking what’s mine.” You said rather matter-of-factly. He laughed a little at that. 

“Then I can’t wait to celebrate.” He said, his voice lower in an effort to keep the sentiment private. It was your turn to nudge him. 

“Hope you’re ready to spend the night on your knees.” You replied confidently. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” 

You made your way down pit lane, bobbing and weaving past mechanics and other drivers, until you heard your name called from behind you. You turned and caught sight of Martin Brundle awkwardly clamoring after you, spry cameraman in tow. Grid walk interviews were so chaotic and uncomfortable, you usually tried to avoid them at all cost.

“Y/N, quick word?” You put a smile on and nodded. How could you possibly say no? 

“How are you feeling today?” It was a simple enough question, which you appreciated. 

“I’m feeling good. We’ve had a great weekend so far, the car has been tremendous, our team has worked really hard. We’re ready for a podium- if we’re lucky, maybe a 1, 2!” You replied enthusiastically. 

“Brilliant. You’ve been absolutely flying this weekend. Any concerns with the reliability issues the team has faced in the past?” Brundle questioned, making your smile falter just the slightest. 

“Our engineers have worked tirelessly to give us the best possible car. We’ve improved so much in the last three years- to be fighting for the constructors is a huge accomplishment, and that’s what we’re focused on. Checo is a brilliant teammate and I just feel very lucky to be where I am.” You concluded with yet another nod.

“Not just fighting for the constructors. How do you feel about possibly making history as the first female world driver’s champion?” Martin asked, pointing his microphone back at you. 

“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” You asked mischievously. 

“Of course, I’m going to do everything I absolutely can to make it happen. I’ll let my performance speak for itself, and there’s still a long season ahead.” You finished, hoping you didn’t sound cocky, just self-assured. 

“Best of luck to you today. We hope to see history being made this season.”

“So do I. Thank you so much.” You said, turning sharply on your heel and continuing your journey to the first spot on the grid. 

You climbed into your chassi and exhaled deeply. You slipped on your balaclava and accepted your helmet from your trainer, pulling it on and trying to quiet the butterflies fluttering around in your chest. 

You glanced in your mirror, and caught sight of Carlos climbing into his car right behind you. You shook your head minutely, hoping to clear any thought of him from your mind. You thought about your dinner with Seb and replayed his words in your mind. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for. You pictured crossing that finish line, finding Seb in the crowd and throwing your arms around him. The first few races without him this season simply hadn’t been the same. Your very first race win ever- you practically tackled him. It was a moment you thought of frequently- and you were hoping to relive it. 

It was time for the formation lap, the various technicians and engineers swarming back to their own garages. 

You took off and weaved back and forth, desperate to keep temperature in your tires. You completed the three mile track, and settled back in the pole position, fluttering your fingers over the steering wheel nervously. Finally, after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time, the red lights began to flash. And then you could almost hear Crofty yelling “It’s lights out and away we go!” You sped away from the grid and got off well, reaching the first chicane well before Lewis. You glanced in your rearview, seeing the red of Carlos’ Ferrari between the black colored Mercedes. You ignored them and turned back to the open road and focused on putting more distance between yourself and the others. You were pleased to see that Carlos was far closer to Lewis than anyone would have anticipated, and that would surely wreak havoc on their tires. The laps began to fly by, and things remained fairly uneventful until lap 22 when you heard your engineer's voice “Yellow flag, yellow flag. Stroll spun in sector 2. Hold position.” 

“Box?” You asked, knowing the pit lane entry was quickly approaching, and Aston Martin’s misfortune may just work in your favor.

“Box, box.” He agreed, and you were grateful. You pulled into the pit lane and slowed your roll before pulling into your ready and waiting pit crew. It felt like a quick stop, likely under three seconds, and you were back out and on your way, eyeing the myriad of cars pitting behind you. 

“Mercedes has stayed out. Lewis is in P1.” You felt a grin creep onto your lips. You couldn’t fathom any reason he wouldn’t box. Under the safety car you caught up to him, weaving about a car length or so behind him. You were convinced that once the yellow flag was lifted you would be able to outdrive Hamilton on your much newer tires. After half a lap the safety car had lifted, and you were already getting ready to try and overtake your rival. You gained a half a second, and pulled up beside Lewis, forcing him to take the outside line. Your newer tires certainly gave you an advantage and after you spent the next three laps gaining on him until you were within striking distance. With your DRS enabled, you blew past him on the straight. You felt euphoric, adrenaline coursing through your veins, victory surely within your grasp. All you had to do was hold your position and hold on for about forty more laps. Easy, right?

For the rest of the race you stayed quiet, focused on the task at hand. It was smooth sailing up until lap 57 when Nicholas Latifi suffered a fairly severe crash. After you were assured he was okay, a red flag was called to clear the debris off the track. You couldn’t tell if this would be a blessing in disguise or a nail in your coffin. You pulled into the pits and got some fresh tires, hoping that things would continue to work in your favor. 

You stayed seated in your car for the duration of the red flag, hoping that you would be able to stop yourself from any possible distractions. Your engineer began to read the current standings to you. 

“Of course you have pole, followed by Hamilton, Sainz, Perez,” At that point you sort of zoned out. You knew everything you needed to. 

“Alright, back to the grid.” You heard echo through your radio, sending your nerves back into overdrive. You kept your eyes straight ahead, ignoring the bit of black car in your peripheral, and the red in your rearview. You had deja vu, the track lights blinking once more before you were hurtling down the track, taking the inside line. You made the sharp turn and glanced behind you for just a moment- Lewis was gone. You looked around frantically, “Where is he?” You shouted into your radio, doing your best to keep your eyes ahead of you, Carlos’ Ferrari hot on your tail. 

“He’s gone off the track. Looks like a mechanical issue.” You were told, fighting the urge to yell triumphantly. If Hamilton got a DNF, you would be nearly equal in points. His departure from the track signaled another yellow flag, and you settled happily behind the Alfa safety car. 

“Alright, just bring it home.” You heard Christian’s voice speaking to you calmly, and you allowed your confidence to build just the slightest. Finally, the yellow flag was lifted with three laps to go. You got away well enough, and Carlos held steady in second about two seconds behind you. You rounded the final corner, and flew down the straight away, your eyes catching sight of all of the mechanics and your pit crew hanging on the fence, fists pumping triumphantly in celebration. 

“P1. P1.” Your strategist confirmed. 

“That’s a fucking podium!” You yelled, earning some laughs over the radio.

“A fucking podium!” Christian shouted in response. You pulled into the winner’s spot and stood atop your Red Bull, relishing in the cheers from the crowd. Mostly, you thought of Daniel and Sebastian- how you couldn’t wait to pull them each into a hug- maybe you could plan a mini celebration for that evening, just the three of you. The clubs were fun, but this victory felt far more personal for some reason. You hopped down and glanced around, the sea of red before you confirming that Carlos had indeed finished second. After a moment his car pulled up beside yours and Checo’s Red Bull took third. You were absolutely thrilled for the team. After a moment of receiving overjoyed slaps on the back, you were being whisked away for a quick interview before the podium. 

“Things really broke your way today, Y/N. Brilliant, clean drive. You must be thrilled.” You nodded, and smiled, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s a great day for the team. After last week- this, it’s just incredible.” You answered, your hands coming up to rest behind your neck, as you glanced around taking in the sights and sounds of another win. 

“Hamilton did not finish, that will be huge in points.” The commentator stated, as though no one else were thinking about it. 

“Well, I didn’t finish last week. I’m focusing on myself, my team. But There’s still such a long season ahead.” You replied, doing your best to not let this win lull you into some false sense of security. 

“Congratulations, you’ve earned this.” 

“Thank you.” You replied finally, nodding once more and heading up to the podium. You leapt atop that highest step once more, doing your best to focus on your colleagues rather than Carlos stepping up beside you. You turned to Checo and whispered congratulations, along with a quick half-hug.

Then the national anthems were played, and the trophies were presented. You held the trophy high, your eyes searching for the faces that meant the most to you. You were broken from your trance when you saw Checo kneeling and grabbing the champagne. You followed suit and grabbed yours, shaking it harshly at your teammate and your mechanic that had joined you to accept the constructor’s trophy. You completely avoided Carlos, determined to soak up all of the happiness that you could in that moment. You were completely soaked, hair and coveralls dripping as you posed for photos with your teammate. He smacked you on the back and you told him he had driven an incredible race. After the photo op, you turned swiftly and left to get back to your drivers room, dry off, and find Seb. You wandered down the hall, first prize still tightly held in your grasp when you heard your name. Your first thought was maybe Daniel had tracked you down and you turned to face him- your smile falling when you saw Carlos instead. 

“Sorry, I’m busy.” You replied shortly before continuing on to your room. He didn’t seem deterred and started a light jog to catch up with you. 

“Come on, just talk to me.” He pleaded as you pushed the door to your room open. You flashed a fake smile. 

“Talk to you? I did. I told you things that I never should have. I won’t make that mistake again, don’t worry.” You said, moving to shut the door in his face. He threw his arm up and caught it. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” He told you, pushing the door open the rest of the way. You took a step back, allowing him to enter and he shut it behind himself, in hopes that no one would overhear your conversation. You paused and thought for a moment before deciding you may as well get this confrontation over with. 

“I don’t know what there is to say. I let myself get distracted and I’m here to do my job. I’m here to win, and that’s it. Everything else is background noise.” You told him what you’d been trying to convince yourself for weeks. His lips parted, eyebrows furrowed as he considered the venom in your tone. 

“This isn’t about racing-“

“Yes it is. Of course it is. Is that why you spent time with me? Because I’m a real threat now?” You asked, feeling your chest tighten with anger you didn’t know you had. 

“It’s about Daniel!” He nearly shouted in response. You weren’t expecting that. You recoiled, a look of confusion falling over your features. 

“What about Daniel?” You asked, nearly seething with anger. 

“You’re in a relationship. I saw his text. That’s why I didn’t meet you for breakfast.”

“So you were spying on me?” Carlos clenched his jaw. 

“No, I wasn’t. It vibrated, I went to put it on your nightstand. You’re the one that said you weren’t in a relationship!” He reminded, as if he were trying to deflect the blame back to you. 

“I’m not! Fuck, Carlos, I’m not dating Daniel. We just… We hook up sometimes. We’re not dating.” You did your best to explain the situation, but it never seemed like anyone’s business but your own. 

“And you should have just asked me,” You added, the annoyance still clear in your tone. Carlos licked his lips. 

“You’re not together?” He repeated, almost to himself. 

“No, we’re not together.” You confirmed. 

In a split second, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, pressing his lips to yours. He kissed you passionately, one hand on the small of your back, holding you against him, the other caressing your cheek. He tasted like champagne, and you ran your fingers through his damp hair that you had always wanted to touch. Kissing him felt so right, like you didn’t know how you hadn’t been doing it all this time. Still, you were sick of feeling like a passenger in your- relationship, or whatever it was. You quieted the lust fluttering around in your chest and pulled yourself away from him. 

“Carlos, I don’t- I don’t understand-” 

“Mi corazon,” He muttered in that gorgeous voice of his, a bit ragged with what seemed like desire to you. His eyes focused on yours, then darted down to your lips. Hearing him speak Spanish made you want to rip his race suit off.

“I’ve had feelings for you for… a long time now. I just… couldn’t figure out how to tell you. And you’re always with Dan. And when I came by your room last night," His voice started to trail and he avoided your gaze for a moment, almost as though embarrassed.

You furrowed your brow in confusion.

"What do you mean? You didn't come by my room last night." You replied, mostly out of confusion rather than disbelief.

"Yes, I did. I wanted to talk. I wanted to tell you how I felt." Suddenly, you remembered the knock you had heard at the door- the one Daniel claimed belonged to room service. Your chest tightened at the revelation. Why would he lie to you? You trusted Daniel with everything, always. You had never had any reason to doubt him in the past, but maybe this wasn't the first time he had lied. Was he intimidated by Carlos, or maybe jealous at the thought of having to share you? Your mind was working overtime, questioning Daniel's motives and fearing that maybe you weren't as close as you thought you were.

Carlos broke your train of thought and reached down, taking your hand in his. You decided to push all of your concerns about Daniel out of your mind, only for the time being.

Carlos' fingers tilted your chin up and he was leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You couldn’t help it, all you wanted to do was take him, right there in your driver's room. You reached up and pulled him back into you, his kisses getting increasingly addictive. You decided to take a risk and reached up for the collar on his race suit, fingers inching towards his zipper. Before you could get it too far down his chest, his hand grabbed yours once more. 

“No, no, no. We can’t do this.” His words caught you by surprise. You took a step back, your chest flushing with embarrassment. 

“Oh- I just, I just thought-” You backpedaled, working very hard to avoid his gaze. 

“No, no, Y/N, I want this- God, do I want this. But not here. Let me take you out tonight. Let me do this right.” Carlos said, his eyes looking into yours pleadingly. Was he asking you on an actual date? What did that mean exactly? For your image in the media, for your friendship with Daniel? You pursed your lips before nodding in agreement despite your many concerns. 

“Okay. Yes. I would like that.” You were smiling, almost sheepishly, like you hadn’t just tried to undress him. Just then, you heard a light knock on your door. You stepped away from Carlos and glanced between him and whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Should probably get that.” You said, earning a slight nod from him in response. You were worried that perhaps it was Daniel on the other side, holding more champagne, ready to spend the night ravishing you as he often did after a race win. You were relieved when it turned out to be Sebastian, his hair looking a bit wild, a big smile on his face. 

“You did it! I told you, you should listen to me more.” He was already rambling, pulling you into a celebratory hug. Before you had the opportunity to respond, he caught sight of the Ferrari driver standing behind you. From the look of relief on Carlos’ features, you assumed he thought it was going to be Daniel too. 

“Am I interrupting?” Seb asked, an accusatory finger gesturing between you and Carlos. 

“No, not at all. Carlos just came by to congratulate me.” You replied smoothly, Carlos agreeing with a nod of his head. 

“I’m sure he did. Congratulations to you too, Carlos.” Carlos accepted the compliment with a smile and shifted his gaze between you and Seb once more. 

“Well, I should be going.” Carlos said, as it looked like Seb was making no effort to leave. You appreciated that Carlos didn’t mention your date, but from Seb’s knowing look, you could tell he knew something was going on. 

“Yeah, talk later.” You responded simply, and then he was gone. 

“I see you’re taking my advice seriously.” Seb said, a smirk falling over his features. 

“I won, didn’t I?” You replied, happy to return his sass. 

“You did. And listen, Carlos is a great guy. If you want to go for it, you should.” For whatever reason, hearing Seb give you his ‘blessing’ made you feel a little bit better. Things with Carlos felt… real. There was something different between the two of you, and you were acutely aware of it. 

“I’ve worked too hard to be here, and I won’t let myself be distracted.” You told him, although you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. 

“I know, you’ve always taken this very seriously. And now-” Suddenly the door to your driver's room was flying open, and Daniel came bursting in, holding a bottle of champagne, his arms held high in celebration. 

“Let’s fucking go!” He yelled excitedly, just as he realized you weren’t alone. 

“Oh, hi Seb.” He cleared his throat a bit, as though that would successfully regain his composure. Sebastian flashed you a look.

“You’ve got your hands full.” He told you, slapping you lightly on the arm before making his exit. 

“What’s going on?“ Dan asked, his smile falling a little as he found himself unable to read your expression. You felt a mixture of sadness and hurt flush through you at the sight of him.

“We need to talk.” 

Part 5: This Is Me Trying

Tags: @an-ocean-blue @formulacherry @cvrsdx @vroom63 @miahelen @p10g @dr3lover @unicornshavedreams @whitetreeofhope @mishaandthebrits @loin-de-moi-meme @lily-horvitz @withyoutilltheendofthismess @teapartydreams @misswolff @lestappiebaby @gaily19 @whyishesoperfect @cutesheepstuff @fuckedupbutadorable @obeskenobes @vinvantae @vroom-vroom-bitch @dr3ln4 @justaddicted @valkryejh @alternativemadchen @sad-fridge2323 @lievesobsession @prettybiching @snowglobezz @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @perfektpasta @michaelslovechild @d0ntjudgemy50shades @f1thirsttraps @forzaferraris @thatchickwiththecamera @kat-to-the-rina @cowboydr @oyesmendes @ferrarifwendvale @avengemepercy @thebagginsofbaggend @dad-seb @lovelylila @honeybadger03 @she-shines-bright @spngi @heyitskay-21

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Champagne Problems pt. 3

gif credit @dansebs

Part One, Part Two

A/N: Part 3! I hope you all enjoy! Thank you to my bestie @haterpenny!

Word count: 5.2K

Warnings: Smut, idiots being idiots, alcohol, swearing!

———————————————————

Lando placed his golf ball on the tee and stood back, trying to decide exactly where to position himself. Carlos watched, mostly annoyed with just how long Lando was taking. 

“Vamos.” He muttered, earning a dismissive wave from Lando as he continued debating with himself just how hard the wind was blowing. Finally, Lando took his stance and swung- the club connecting with a satisfying wack. He raised his hand to shield his gaze from the sun as he watched the small ball land and roll impressively close to the hole. 

“Thank you.” He said, flashing a smug grin at his friend. Carlos feigned annoyance before setting his ball down and eyeing the distance to the hole, much like Lando had. 

“So, any progress with Y/N?” Lando asked nonchalantly. Carlos was surprised with the sudden new topic and pursed his lips. 

“I told you. She’s with Daniel.” He replied simply, not bothering to meet his former teammate’s eyes. 

“See, I don’t think she is. I mean, they’re together a lot. They’re definitely weirdly touchy. But it’s Daniel. If they were together, why wouldn’t they just admit it?” Lando said- clearly he had thought this through. 

“She’s afraid people won’t take her seriously. Can- can we talk about something else?” Carlos sounded a bit uncomfortable- like the pain was still fresh. 

“But have you actually asked her?” Lando pushed, his curiosity making it nearly impossible for him to drop the subject. 

“I saw his text. It told me everything I needed to know.” 

“So you were snooping?” Lando challenged, sounding a little incredulous that Carlos would stoop so low. 

“Dios mio,” Carlos muttered under his breath, finally standing up straight and turning to meet Lando’s eyes. 

“I wasn’t snooping. Her phone was out, it was on her screen. Leave it alone or you’re walking to the next hole.” He said sternly. Lando put his hands up defensively, and Carlos turned back to the task at hand before finally taking his swing. 

“Didn’t know you were a quitter, is all.” 

Lando said with a shrug. Carlos clenched his jaw and moved quickly towards the golf cart. 

“That’s it, you’re walking.” He announced, hopping into the driver’s seat and speeding off, leaving an open-mouthed Lando in the dust.  

“Bollocks.” 

————————————————————

Daniel had invited you to attend the launch party for his new wine back in his home of Australia. You knew absolutely nothing about wine, and he’d often go on long tangents about the subject- during which you would  nod along enthusiastically. He was always discussing the “tannins” and aromas of different wines, but it all tasted like grape juice that burned to you. Still, it was something he was passionate about and you were just happy to be a part of it. 

You were there in support of him, dressed in a short black cocktail dress, one that he’d picked out for you. He had watched you eagerly as you took your first sip, eyebrows raised in anticipation of your reaction. You tried to look like you knew what you were doing- you swirled it in the glass and everything- and told him it was incredible and he should give up racing to be a sommelier. Now you were about three glasses in, and you didn’t dare tell him that you couldn’t tell the difference between the Cabernet and Shiraz. You loved seeing him like this, speaking passionately with all eyes on him. Soon you realized you were eyeing him like he was dessert, and you were craving something sweet. 

You mostly kept to yourself, occasionally making small talk with some of the other guests. It was a bit of a relief to take a break from discussing the championship fight, and you relished seeing Daniel thrive. When he caught a break in his borage of compliments and adoration from the crowd, he snuck over to you and slipped his arm around your waist. 

“Playing the wallflower tonight?” He whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. 

“This is about you, Dan. I’m just here to support you, get drunk and look good doing it.” You answered, looking at him a bit too affectionately for being in public. 

“And may I say, you’re doing a splendid job.” He commented, so close to you his nose was practically nudging at your cheek. 

“If you get any closer I’m going to have to take you in that bathroom.” You told him, raising an eyebrow in a suggestive but completely serious manner. 

“Oh, sugar, how could I say no to that?” He said in that stupid accent that made you clench your thighs ever so slightly. 

“Meet you in five minutes.” You said, throwing back the rest of your glass of wine. 

“That’s really meant to be sipped, but yes, I’ll meet you there.” He chastised lightly, slapping your ass in passing and hopefully discretely enough for no one else to notice. You jumped slightly at the contact and rolled your eyes before sneakily making your way to the restroom. 

You took a moment to study yourself in the mirror, your drunken gaze only giving your confidence a boost. You made sure the bathroom was empty and waited impatiently, swaying slightly with excitement. 

After what seemed like far too long, the door was opening, catching Daniel mid-laugh. He quickly locked the door behind him and you were practically throwing yourself at him and pulling him into a deep, hard kiss. He grabbed your ass and pulled you flush against him and you could already feel how hard he was getting. 

“You taste even better than usual.” He told you before pulling you back into another kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance. 

“I love seeing you like this.” You told him, running your fingers through his perfectly tousled curls and then down to his chest, trying desperately to unbutton the flannel shirt he had on. Once you had access, you trailed your fingers over his toned stomach, making him clench at your cold hands. He spun you around, bending you over the sink and pointing at your reflections in the mirror. 

“I want you to watch.” He instructed, grabbing at the hem of your skirt and pulling it up over your hips. He kissed and sucked at your neck, likely hard enough to leave hickeys. You had a rule where you weren’t allowed to leave visible marks on one another, but you were happy to make an exception this one time. He palmed your ass before pulling your panties down and slipping them into his pocket. You wiggled your butt as enticingly as possible- earning one swift smack from him. You let out a surprised moan, and his hand moved quickly to cover your mouth. 

“Keep that pretty mouth shut, sugar or we’ll get caught. You wouldn’t want that, would you? Imagine what people would say.” He whispered into your ear, which did little than arouse you further. Thankfully he kept his hand in place, hiding another one of your pleading moans. 

“Unless you want to get caught.” Daniel said, eyebrows raised. His hand moved from your mouth to your hair, wrapping his hand around it in a makeshift ponytail. He tugged it a little harshly, exposing more of your neck for him to assault. You watched him in the mirror, his eyes dark with desire, as his free hand snuck up and cupped your breast. 

“You came here, dressed like this, and expected me not to fuck you?” He muttered, his appetite entirely insatiable. 

“I need you to fuck me.” You finally replied, finding your words through the fog of lust that had settled around you. 

“How can I resist, princess?” He put some pressure on your shoulder, forcing you down to your elbows on the vanity. It felt like it took an eternity for him to undo his fly and you watched him stroke himself for a moment in the mirror. His flannel hung open, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin and that tattoo on his collar that you loved. He reached down and rubbed circles around your clit, nearly driving you wild. 

“Danny, just take me,” You sighed, growing impatient at the little distance between the two of you, that you felt was still far too much. 

“Whatever you say, hon.” He said with a slight smirk, finally pushing into you. You sighed at the way he perfectly filled you, and he wasted no time setting a harsh pace. You watched the concentrated expression on his features, but when his eyes met yours a big, satisfied, smug grin working its way across his lips. He grabbed your wrist and pinned it behind your back, eating up every ounce of control he could. It felt so good to be focused on nothing but pleasure and sharing it with someone who you could trust to take care of you. Following through on basic, carnal desire was basically the easiest thing in your life right now, and you were happy to turn your mind off and succumb to Daniel’s touch. His thrusts were hard and fast, his grip on your hips bruising. He snaked his hand back between your thighs and began to move his fingers in little, quick circles- the way he knew you liked. You could feel yourself tightening, walls dangerously close to fluttering around him. 

“I’m gonna,” Was about as far as you got before you were coming undone around him, his hand moving back to your mouth to trap the high sighs that threatened to escape. 

“Such a good girl for me,” He praised, keeping up his pace as you melted into him- nothing felt quite as good as Daniel buried inside of you during your post-orgasmic haze. 

“You feel so good, Danny.” You said in that high, breathy voice that you knew he loved. The compliment seemed to push him over the edge, his hips faltering at the sound of your voice. He stilled, his cock still buried inside of you as you stood, turning your head to catch his lips in one more, tender kiss. After a moment, he pulled out and you both groaned at the loss. He dropped to his knees and gathered some of the cum that had dropped down your thighs and pushed it back inside of you. He rose to his feet and helped straighten out your dress. How was it possible you already wanted him again?

“Fuck, that was good.” He said, earning a happy hum from you in agreement. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me.” You said, turning to meet his eyes, his mouth falling into a goofy grin. 

“Oh, trust me, it’s been my pleasure.” He insisted, shooting a cheeky wink your way. 

“You should get back out there.” You said, nodding back towards the locked bathroom door. 

“Reckon you’re right. I’ll meet you back out there- and I’m keeping these.” He said, pointing to your pink panties peeking out of his pocket. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and he was slipping back out the door. You giggled and turned back to the mirror, trying to decide just how obvious it was that you had just been ravaged. Your hair looked like sex hair, but that was easy enough for you to manage. The hickeys on your neck, however, may be a bit more difficult to explain. You hoped that the dim lighting for the occasion would be a suitable enough environment to keep it hidden. You stepped back out of the bathroom and snuck a peek around before rejoining the rest of the guests, another glass of wine already in your grasp. 

Soon, Daniel was moving to the middle of the room, a microphone in hand. You loved seeing everyone’s eyes on him and knowing that when he looked at the crowd of faces- all he saw was you. Daniel thanked everyone for attending the event and began to discuss his collaboration with St. Hugo. What you were not expecting was the wine decanter modeled after his race boot. When it was unveiled with all of the pomp and circumstance of a race winner’s trophy, you couldn’t help but laugh. Daniel had failed to mention the ridiculous object, and you rolled your eyes, but found yourself thinking “Wait- why do I want it?”

Once he was done speaking, he found his way back over to you and you shook your head with feigned annoyance. 

“You are a ridiculous man.” You announced, trying your best not to laugh at him. 

“Thank you.” He accepted it as a compliment and smiled widely.

You spent the next half hour mingling with those in attendance, carefully dodging any questions you were asked about the championship fight. You wanted to enjoy your time off as much as possible. The next day, you and Dan would be back on your way to Monaco, and then on your way to Imola. Before too long, Daniel was in front of you, offering his arm. 

“You ready to get out of here?” He questioned, glancing down at you affectionately. 

“Yes. If I have another glass of wine I’ll puke.” He looked offended and you quickly clarified: 

“Because of the volume! Not the quality.” 

“Acceptable answer.” Dan agreed, holding your arm in an effort to make you appear just a bit more sober. No one seemed to notice your hickeys- so you’d consider the night a roaring success. The two of you wandered outside to where a car waited.

“You really are very talented.” You told him as he helped you into the backseat before sliding in beside you. 

“Thank you, my little troublemaker. And you are very distracting. Trying to seduce me in a room full of people.” He chastised, as soon as the car door closed, making you scoff. 

“I tried to seduce you? Sure, that’s what happened.” You replied sarcastically. You slumped into his shoulder, fighting to keep your eyes open. He slipped his arm around you and you were in and out of sleep for the duration of the 20 minute drive back to the hotel. 

He helped you up to your shared room, washed your face and put you to bed. 

“Thank you for coming.” He said, sneaking a kiss to your forehead as you drifted off. Your last waking thought was about how happy you were to have him. 

The rest of your week absolutely flew by. Before you knew it you were at the track in Imola, speaking with the press doing yet another conference. You had had a good qualifying session, and thankfully snagged pole. Especially after your DNF at the previous race, you were desperate to launch a revenge tour. One of the first questions was for you. 

“Y/N, congratulations on pole. Are you hoping for another celebratory dance with Carlos this weekend?” You felt your cheeks flush at the question, a bit embarrassed by it. You didn’t dare sneak a look over at Carlos. 

“I’m hoping for a race win, to stay in this championship fight. That’s my biggest concern at this point.” You answered politely, nodding with a polished smile that your PR team liked. 

You glanced over at Daniel, who flashed you a sympathetic smile.

“Well there’s a good chance you’ll be sharing a podium this weekend with Ferrari’s pace.” The journalist added, making your faux smile widen. 

“Yeah, I just try to focus on what is in front of me. And wherever Lewis is.” You added, bringing a grin to your competitor’s cheeks. 

After the weekend’s racing questions were out of the way, they were asking Daniel about his wine releases, and it seemed you had successfully hidden the fact that you attended from the press. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, happy that you didn’t have to answer anyone’s questions or explain the extent of your involvement with Daniel. 

When the press conference was over and you and the guys dispersed, you bumped into Lando and Carlos, talking quietly in a corner. 

“Hey Lando, good to see you.” You said politely in passing, completely ignoring Carlos’ existence. Was it petty? Yes. But you were feeling petty. 

“Hey,” Lando replied with a furrowed brow. You didn’t stick around to see if he’d say anything else. What you didn’t see was the wounded way Carlos’ eyes followed you. 

You went back to your room, grabbed a novel and climbed into bed. You slipped into the sheets, desperate to relax a bit before the race the next afternoon. All you seemed to be able to think about was your brief interaction with Carlos. You felt guilty for being so short with him, but as much as you hated to admit it, your feelings still hurt. You hadn’t allowed yourself to open up to anyone on the grid about your insecurities- aside from Daniel- and surprisingly, Seb. Seb had made quite the effort to welcome you to Formula 1 upon your debut. He had been one of your main supporters when you were coming up through Formula 3 and 2, seeing your talent early on. He had offered you advice, invited you to be his personal guest on race weekends before you made it to F1, and met with Horner on your behalf more than once. Truthfully, you owed your career to Seb. You remembered watching him become the youngest ever WDC and the hope it filled you with. 

You decided you should talk to Seb. His advice had literally never steered you wrong before, and he would certainly understand the pressure you were under better than most. You grabbed your phone and shot him a text. 

Y/N: Anyway you’re free for dinner?🥺

You asked, his response popping up before you’d even locked your screen. 

SebVet: Sure thing. Just let me know where. 

You already felt better. A soft smile spread over your cheeks and you texted him a restaurant and a time. You gave up on your novel, unable to concentrate enough to read more than one line. You hadn’t spent any alone time with Seb in quite a while. He had COVID and missed the first two races of the year, and you had only been able to visit him once over break. You grabbed your bag, and a hoodie to try and be as inconspicuous as possible. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, he was already there, sipping a drink and scanning the menu. Once he caught sight of you he rose and pulled you into a tight hug. It felt so reassuring, like hugging a family member. 

“How have you been?” He asked as you took your seat across from him, an easy smile falling over your lips to be in his company again. 

“It’s been… it’s been fine.” You replied, nodding slightly, as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

“Bullshit.” He replied, letting out an actual chuckle. 

“Come on, tell me what’s going on.” Seb pried- really, he was able to read you like a book at this point. 

“Fine. I want to win. I want to win so goddamn badly.” You said the words out loud. Saying just how badly you wanted to win felt dangerous- like a jinx. 

“So win.” Seb replied with a slight shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Thanks.” You responded through gritted teeth, annoyed by his casual tone. 

“I know how you feel. But you can do this. I’ve known that since we first met. You will win, because it’s what you’re here to do.” If you were alone, you likely would have burst into tears. Hearing how adamantly he believed in your ability meant the world to you and was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you.” You replied simply, almost unable to find the proper words. He only nodded in response before sipping his drink. 

“There’s… something else I’d like your advice on.” You began awkwardly, his brows raising in curiosity. 

“Is it about Daniel?” He asked, causing you to sputter a little in confusion. 

“Dan- what do you know about Daniel?” You asked, nearly choking on your ice. At almost that exact moment the waiter appeared. After Seb ordered you frantically turned to the waiter and said “sounds good, I’ll have that too,” even though your mind was moving too fast to know what he had ordered. 

“Daniel and you. You’re sleeping together. Come on, Y/N.” He laughed slightly, as if it were common knowledge. 

“How do you know?” You asked, worried that maybe he’d seen the two of you together or someone had told him something. 

“Because I’m not stupid?” Seb replied. 

“Fine, who else knows?” You questioned anxiously. 

“I don’t think anyone does. You guys do a good job denying it.” You breathed a sigh of relief at that. 

“Thank God.” 

“I’ve known Daniel for a long time. He’s happier with you around.” He commented thoughtfully, almost as if you weren’t even there. You felt a little smile form on your face. 

“I’m happier with Daniel around.” You agreed. 

“But… a couple weeks ago, something happened with Carlos. And… I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Daniel and I… we’re not a couple. We just… enjoy each other’s company.” You stumbled through your thoughts, trying to find the best way to phrase them. Seb raised his eyebrows in shock, another laugh coming from him. 

“Carlos? Didn’t see that coming.” He replied nonchalantly, his lips pursed in consideration. 

“Anyway, things were good, and then they got weird, and I’ve just been having a hard time focusing. I don’t know if I should talk to him or just try and focus on the season.” He looked to be at a loss for a moment as he thought about your situation. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked suddenly. Of course you did. You were 8 and Seb was at an event to promote women in racing, and you were so excited you could hardly stand it. You stumbled your way up to him, shaky with nerves and excitement. You then mustered all of your strength to confidently announce that you would one day race beside him. Seb didn’t laugh like other adults did when you shared your dream. Instead he gave you a confident nod and said “I have no doubt I’ll see you on the grid.” After that, you spent all of your time honing your skills on the track, studying clips from his races, and attending every event he put on. The second time you met him, you were amazed that he remembered you. He mentioned the progress he saw in your performance and how you could surely achieve any goal you aimed for. From that moment on, he was very involved in your career and development as an aspiring driver. Seb was where your passion for racing began to feel like a possibility and not just a far-off dream. 

“Of course I remember.” You answered, feeling gratitude and affection for your mentor in your chest. 

“You’ve always known what you wanted. It’s in reach now. Don’t lose sight of that.” You had no idea when Seb got so goddamn wise. You wanted to groan and throw yourself into the chair like a child having a tantrum, but of course he was right. You started karting at three years old and it was all about to pay off. You couldn’t afford to be distracted now by hunky Spaniards. 

“Yes- yeah. You’re right. Of course you’re right.” You confessed, sounding defeated but feeling relieved. 

“I know I’m right.” Seb replied smugly, flashing a brilliant, self-satisfied smirk your way as he raised his scotch to his lips.

Soon your food arrived and the two of you enjoyed much lighter, more casual conversation. You asked about how his girls were doing- they’re karting now too- and you told him all about your little trip to Australia for Daniel’s wine party. Okay- you didn’t tell him all about it. But it was good to catch up with someone that meant so much to you, and appreciate how far you’ve come. 

“This is what you’ve been waiting for. I know what you can do, so do you. But this won’t be your only chance. Just enjoy where you are and don’t get lost in the fight.” Again, you were annoyed with this wise, fatherly role that suited him so well. You remembered the old Seb that used to get drunk with Kimi Raikkonen and flirt with reporters at award shows. Maybe you were all growing up. 

“Thank you for meeting me tonight. I really needed this. I’ve just… felt like I’ve been drowning.” He reached across the table and rested his hand on yours. 

“You’re never alone. Next time don’t wait until you’re drowning to call me. I’m always here.” He responded sincerely. You knew he meant it. He stood and pulled you into one last tight hug and then you were headed back to your room to get as much rest as possible and hold onto your clear mindset. 

————————————————————

Lando: Have you talked to her?

Carlos checked his phone and immediately felt annoyance surge through him. It was not the first time a text from Lando had elicited that reaction. 

Carlos: No. 

Lando: You should. Dan said she’s seemed sad. 

That information intrigued Carlos, and he quickly replied. 

Carlos: What did Daniel say?

Lando: Just that she’s been off. He said it started when you blew her off for breakfast. 

Carlos: The breakfast she went to with him? 

Lando: That’s the one. 

Carlos groaned and fell back on his bed, his phone still tightly in his grasp. Maybe he had made a huge mistake. He should have just talked to you instead of running for the hills. But the icy way your eyes avoided his made him feel like maybe it was too late. He slipped his phone into his pocket and pulled up a light jacket before going out in search of an apology he could give to you. Maybe Lando was right. It would be better to put all of his feelings on the table then always wonder what could have happened. 

————————————————————

When you returned to your room, you had a text from Daniel waiting. 

Big Dick Ricc: Nightcap? 

With Daniel, that question could truly mean anything. You hadn’t spent much time with him at all since your little trip down under, and you decided some company may not be the worst idea. 

Y/N: Please. 

Before too long he was standing at your door, a bottle of one of his wines in hand. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I can drink anymore of that.” You said, remembering just how drunk you’d been last time. He shrugged slightly and pushed past you. 

“More for me.” He replied cheekily, pulling a corkscrew he had stashed in his pocket and opening the bottle with the kind of ease that comes with experience. 

“How’s your day been?” He asked, grabbing one of the hotel’s wine glasses from the fancy display they had put together for you. 

“It’s been good, actually. I’m finally feeling like myself again. Had dinner with Seb.” You told him, plopping yourself onto your bed. 

“Ah, that explains it. I don’t even think you like me as much as you like Seb.” He said with a bit of a chuckle before taking a sip. 

“Jealous?” You joked. 

“No, Seb is definitely better than me.” He agreed, making you laugh. 

“Stop. Anyway- he just reminded me why I’m here. What I’ve worked for. I’ve been focusing too much on the wrong things.” You explained as Daniel sat at the foot of the bed. 

“Good. You’ve seemed… in your head more than usual. And that’s saying something.” He replied, making your roll your eyes. Although he was definitely right. 

“I know. That’s why we work so well. It’s easy and fun, and we can both focus on our jobs.” You gestured between the two of you and assumed you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore for him to get your meaning. 

“And I’m great in bed.” Daniel said, again making you laugh. 

“Yes, that too.” You decided to let him have the win. 

The two of you sat and joked for a bit before you realized what time it was. 

“I’m going to go grab a shower. You can stay over if you want.” You offered, thinking that sleeping beside Dan sounded comforting. 

“Is this a fun shower or a business shower?” He asked, a single brow raised in question. 

“Hmm. I think I’ll let you decide.” You smirked. 

“It’s a fun shower. I’ll finish this and be right in.” He answered almost too quickly, raising his glass as if to give you an opportunity to gauge how long it would be. You headed into the bathroom and started the water. 

————————————————————

Carlos wandered up to the hotel room door that Lando had believed belonged to you. He had another can of Pringles in his hand, although he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. He knocked and stood back, so as to not appear as eager as he felt. The door opened, and he thought perhaps Lando was playing a joke. Daniel stood there, a rather blank look on his face. 

“Can I help you?” He suddenly asked, sounding awkwardly formal. He crossed his arms over his chest- if Carlos didn’t know Daniel better he’d swear he was trying to look intimidating. 

“Uh- where’s Y/N?” Carlos asked, trying to peak past Daniel and into the room.  

“She’s in the shower.” The four words felt like a punch in the stomach. Again- he felt like an idiot. He stuck the can of Pringles behind his back, realizing this whole thing was a huge mistake.

“Well… I just came to wish her luck tomorrow.” He replied awkwardly. 

“Alright. I’ll let her know.” Daniel paused, waiting for the Ferrari driver to speak again. He didn’t. 

“Have a good night. And good luck tomorrow.” Daniel said, Carlos simply nodding in response. Then the door was closed, and Carlos felt frozen to the spot. That was the last time he would take any advice from Lando. 

————————————————————

“Who was that?” You asked when you felt a rush of cool air, signaling Dan had entered the bathroom. 

“Room service had the wrong room.” He said simply before pushing the curtain aside and joining you under the hot spray. You thought that was a bit odd, but didn’t push the question any further- especially because he was pressing his lips to yours and nothing else seemed to matter. He broke the kiss and paused for a moment, taking your hand. 

“But, I have been worried about you. You’ve been… not exactly yourself since the whole Carlos thing.” You were surprised he was bringing it up. 

“Yeah, it was stupid. But for whatever reason it upset me.” He pursed his lips.

“It’s not stupid-" He interjected.

“But it’s behind me now. I’m moving on- focused on me, focused on this season.” You said, nodding reassuringly- as if to prove to yourself and Daniel that you meant it. 

“Glad to hear it. Now come here.” Daniel smiled, pulling you into him by your ass. You reached your arms up around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss. 

This was what you needed, not the drama that came with feelings. You were going to stay right where you were until you had that WDC trophy in your hands.

Part four here!

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I Knew You Were Trouble

Champagne Problems Part 2

gif credit @formulaoneisajoke

Part one here

Part three here

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on part one! I tried to tag everyone who requested, but I’ll be making a more formal tag list soon. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged! Thank you to my love @haterpenny for the continued inspiration! If you requested a tag but were not, I tried but your blog did not pop up.

Words: 5.4K

Warnings: Some swearing, references to smut. Smut in previous and future chapters. Some alcohol.

Summary: Okay, so maybe you’re interested in Carlos. Lando takes it upon himself to investigate your relationship with Daniel in an effort to save Carlos from possible heartache.

———————————————————

It was press day and you were prepping for a press conference with the other drivers. It was your home race, and you were so happy to be in front of your crowd. Since Lewis had been dominating for so long, you had garnered an impressive following. You know they were all hoping you’d knock Lewis off his pedestal, but that wasn’t what it was about for you.

To you, Lewis was any other competitor. Of course, he was an icon and you respected him, but It didn’t matter if it was him or Daniel- or anyone else for that matter. Once the lights went out, they were all your rivals- and you wanted to win.

So, you filed into the press conference, waving politely to the mass of media and taking your seat between Checo and Hamilton. It still felt surreal sitting beside the other drivers and being the only woman only added to your imposter syndrome. No one really thought you had a chance in making Formula 1, and when you did it was dismissed as a political move because of your sex. All of your accomplishments and years of work were reduced to nothing more than a bit of luck and Red Bull desperate to make a statement.

Still, photos of you in your race suit were mixed among those of Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, and Lewis Hamilton. The drivers had embraced you wholly, and done everything they could to correct the narrative that the media was so desperate to sell.

You glanced around and raised your eyebrows playfully as you caught Daniel’s gaze across the room. He threw a wink in your direction before turning back to whatever person was announcing that the conference had officially begun.

“Still celebrating last weekend's win Y/N?” You couldn’t help but grin at the question, memories of your victory flooding your brain.

“Just focusing on this weekend’s win.” You replied with a cheeky grin, getting a laugh from Lewis.

“We saw some photos from your night out with Daniel last weekend, and you’re driving the fans absolutely wild. They’d tear us apart if we didn’t ask, is there a romantic relationship there?” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had been asked that question.

“Sorry to disappoint, but Daniel is just my best friend on the grid.” You said simply, to which Daniel nodded along.

The rest of the press conference was pretty low-key, with a few questions for nearly every driver that got less and less serious the longer the press conference got.

After at least twenty minutes of only half paying attention, you got a softball question from social media.

“Y/N, what’s the best way to celebrate a race win?” You couldn’t help but blurt out your first thought:

“A dance with Carlos Sainz.” You kind of couldn’t believe you’d said it. As if the Daniel rumors weren’t enough. You looked over at him, his cheeks suddenly nearly as red as his Ferrari polo.

“And a can of Pringles. Whole can, one sitting. That’s the only reason I want to win.” You made a joke, hoping it may be enough to distract from your brazen flirting. Or at least nail yourself a sponsorship.

Your entire focus needed to shift. Qualifying was only a few hours away, and there was even more pressure on you than usual since you were in front of your home crowd. You stretched in your driver’s room, listened to some music to get you a little more hyped, and before too long you were being ushered into your car.

You qualified second by .127 of a second. While overall it was certainly a good position, Lewis Hamilton had qualified first.

The next afternoon, when it was time to take to the starting grid, you lined up alongside him, focusing so intently on the red blinking lights, hoping more than anything you’d get the better start. Unfortunately, Lewis got the jump on you, reaching the first chicane with about a half car length between you. Bottas was starting right behind you, and you knew that if you made even the smallest mistake, he’d take advantage.

On lap 32 you were sure that you had the opportunity to overtake Hamilton, having DRS on the main straight, and with one small kiss between your front left and #44’s back tire, you were spiraling hopelessly into the wall.

It all happened so damn fast, that you barely had a moment to brace for the impact. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Seconds ago you were in the lead for the championship. A DNF meant you’d have a major disadvantage going into the next race as Hamilton seemed to escape the scrape unscathed.

After a moment you heard your engineer’s voice “Are you okay?” You let out a groan- whether it was from frustration or pain- you weren’t sure. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry.” You sighed, mentally taking inventory of any possible injuries. You heard the high buzzing sound of a car approaching and glanced over to see the Papaya McLaren, a thumb held up in question. You returned it, although you were feeling devastated. Once you were confident that you were uninjured and just jarred from the crash, you disconnected your steering wheel and started to climb out of your seat.

Then it was the walk of shame back to the garage.

You trudged back to your room, feeling defeated and absolutely exhausted. You were sore and all you wanted to do was watch movies alone while eating food that would make your trainer gasp. Dan had even shown up, offering his company in whatever capacity you found the most desirable, but you told him you’d rather be alone. After giving you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek he left you to wallow in your misery- he knew the feeling well.

So you cozied up in your bed, alternating heat and ice on your tired neck while the opening credits to Dirty Dancing flashed across the TV screen. You were startled by the sound of a knock at the door, your brow furrowed as you wondered who would be brave enough to visit you now. Behind the door stood Carlos, a sad smile on his face when your eyes met his.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said, answering a question you had not asked. You sighed and glanced around, unsure of exactly how to respond.

“I’ll be fine. Just not tonight.” You replied honestly.

“Well, I just wanted to bring these by.” He moved his hand out from behind his back and revealed a can of Pringles, making a genuine smile fall over your features. Seems like someone was paying attention during the press conference. You looked up at his big brown eyes and felt as though maybe he was the only thing in the world that would make you feel better right now.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked, happily accepting the crisps.

“I can share.” You added, nodding towards the can. A big smile broke out across his cheeks.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You moved to the side and allowed him to pass, suddenly realizing that this was the first time you and him had ever been alone together. You hoped you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around and did a quick survey of the room. Luckily you saw no stray panties.

“I was just going to watch Dirty Dancing, if you want we can watch something else.” You offered, climbing on your bed and patting the spot next to you. He looked down at the bed, back at you, and then started to take his shoes off. You were wearing a pair of cozy short shorts, and a loose-fitted t-shirt from a concert you had attended years ago. Carlos had a black t-shirt on and some sweatpants. Perfect comfy clothes.

“It’s a great movie.” He agreed.

You popped open the can of chips and helped yourself to a few before turning it towards Carlos. He settled beside you and awkwardly tried to reach his significantly larger hand into the narrow can. After watching him struggle for a moment, you tilted the container to assist.

“Thanks.” He replied with a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he looked, and how lovely his arm brushing lightly against yours felt.

You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted him to open his arms around you so you could nuzzle up into his chest, but was that what he wanted? Or was he just checking on a friend who had a rough day?

After a few moments of mentally fighting with yourself, you decided to take a little leap. You rested your head on his shoulder, and you swore he tensed. Just as you began to realize it was a mistake, he pulled away and you felt your stomach drop. Until he reached over and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You basically melted into him, feeling like this was what the two of you should have been doing for the last three years. You rested your palm on his chest and focused more on the gentle rise and fall of his breathing than the movie. You felt more brazen, your leg slowly inching closer to his, determined to be snuggled up in him. He seemed to welcome the contact, a subtle smile gracing his lips as you got comfortable. You imagined that perhaps he had that lovely pink blush across his cheeks that you had caught a glimpse of at the press conference, but you didn’t dare move to look.

Before too long you were watching Baby dance for Johnny while Solomen Burke's “Cry To Me” played and you suddenly realized just how sexy this stupid 80s movie was.

“Is this where you learned to dance?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt against you last weekend. He chuckled.

“If you want another dance, all you have to do is ask,” Carlos said, a sudden boost in confidence evident in his tone. You felt your chest flutter at the thought.

“Alright, fine. Can I have another dance?” You asked, too nervous to look up at him. He mumbled something under his breath, you believed in Spanish before he moved away from you and stood, stretching his hand out towards you. He looked so incredibly tempting, his lips so full and pink, his hair begging to have your fingers carded through it. You took his hand and he helped you to your feet, his hands slipping their way down to your waist. You swayed in time with him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Of all the ways you had pictured today going, this was not one of them. You snuck your fingers up beside his neck and he only leaned in closer to you, his head resting atop yours fondly.

After a few moments of enjoying the simplicity of being in one another’s arms, you felt Carlos’ featherlight touch on your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet his. Instead of staring into his eyes, all you could focus on were his lips.

Before you could think about any of the possible repercussions, you were leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. He held your cheeks gently and lightly nudged his nose against yours. You couldn’t believe it had taken you this long to kiss this man.

Finally, you pulled away, mostly just to breathe. He knelt down, touching his forehead gently to yours.

“Oh.” You said involuntarily, overwhelmed by the chemistry and the way he was looking at you. It took all of your strength to not tear his shirt off of him, but you wanted to do your best to be rational. What was Carlos expecting from this? Carlos was a good friend. Was he hoping for a one-night stand, a relationship, or an arrangement like you and Daniel had?

You took a step back, your hands dropping to your sides. A look of concern flashed over Carlos’ flushed features.

“I’m sorry. I- it’s.”

“N-no, it’s fine! It’s just been a bad day and… I’m glad you’re here.” You said simply, smiling softly at him.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” He agreed.

Every now and then he’d shift to get you an ice pack for your sad muscles, rub your shoulders a little- anything to try and minimize the pain you both knew you would be feeling the next day.

Once the movie was over you started talking about the highs and lows of growing up in motorsport. He talked about carrying the weight of his father’s successful career, and you explained how being a woman made you feel like there was always a target on your back. He laid propped up on a pillow, while you opted to use his thigh as a pillow, occasionally turning your head to meet his pleasant gaze.

“I’m proud of everything I’ve done, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But sometimes I wonder if they’re right. Am I here because of my ability, or am I here as a statement?” You explained, avoiding his eyes in the event that he may perceive your venting as complaining. He sat up a bit straighter, taking you by surprise.

“Y/N, you can’t honestly think that. You’re one of the best drivers on the grid. If anyone thinks you’re just here because you’re a woman- then they’re not paying attention. That’s their problem, not yours.” Carlos replied thoughtfully, this time putting a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. Again, you felt those lovely butterflies fluttering around inside of you and you were unable to hide your smile.

You spent that night tangled up in Carlos’ arms, occasionally unable to tear your eyes away from his long eyelashes and the way they brushed across his cheeks. The man was truly gorgeous and it felt unreal that he was lying there beside you. His tan skin against those white sheets- he nearly looked like he was glowing. The fact that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep beside you- it made your chest tight with affection.

When you were convinced he was asleep you pressed the softest possible kiss to his lips, and succumbed to sleep yourself.

The next morning, Carlos was still beside you, his hair much messier, his eyes a little droopy with sleep.

“Good morning.” He said, as soon as he caught your eyes. You couldn’t believe he had stayed the night, and you couldn’t believe how natural it felt to wake up beside him. You giggled a bit at the absurdity of the situation and Carlos returned your grin- 24 hours ago you never would have predicted this.

“Good morning,” The room was still rather dark thanks to the hotel’s thick black-out curtains, and you grabbed your phone to check the time. It was almost 9 o’clock and you were starving. You tossed your phone aside and turned your attention back to your sleepover buddy.

“I’m sorry I kept you up so late.” You said, sitting up in bed and reaching your arms over your head in a stretch. He simply shook his head, his hand waved dismissively.

“I wanted to be sure you were okay,” Carlos replied, adding a little shrug.

“Well if it wasn’t for you, I would have just felt sorry for myself all night. So thank you, it meant a lot… and I had a great time.” You told him, suddenly feeling a little shy. It occurred to you that you had told Carlos a lot about yourself- some things that you even had a hard time confessing to Daniel.

“Is there any way you’d maybe want to go get breakfast?” You pushed your luck, wondering if maybe you’d be able to steal even more of his time. Your dinner the previous evening had comprised mostly of Pringles and minibar snacks and a big waffle with whipped cream was calling your name.

“Yeah, breakfast sounds good.” He agreed.

“Okay, awesome. Is it okay if I take a shower real quick? And then we can go?” You asked, flashing him some big doe eyes that he surely couldn’t say no to.

“Of course, no problem.”

“I’ll be quick!” You promised, hopping off the bed and grabbing some clothes to change into.

Once you were gone, Carlos grabbed his phone and began to scroll through the flood of notifications he had- mostly from Lando.

Lando: Tell me how it goes!!!!

Lando: Did you talk to her?

Lando: You’re not in your room.

Lando: What is going on????

Lando: Either it went very well or VERY poorly

Lando: UPDATE??

Lando: I hate you

Carlos chuckled, scrolling through the messages before finally typing one back.

Carlos: I’m still here!!

Lando: YOU SPENT THE NIGHT??!

Carlos: 😎

Just as Carlos began to type out a lengthy explanation, he felt the vibration of your phone beside him. He fished it out of the sheets and went to set it on the nightstand when a text caught his eyes.

Big Dick Ricc: Come over with as little clothing on as possible. I’ve got a surprise for you. 😘

Carlos felt his heart sink. Obviously, that was Daniel. And obviously, the two of you were not just friends. Friends don’t send one another messages like that. No wonder you backed away so quickly after you kissed. He felt like such an idiot. He set your phone aside and stood, unsure of what he should do next. He considered confronting you, but he rationalized that the message was more proof than necessary to reinforce what the media and other drivers had long suspected had been going on between you and the Aussie. One thing was quite clear to Carlos- it should have been Daniel consoling you- holding you the previous night, and not him.

He laced his shoes back up and left.

Nearly five minutes later you had turned the water off and began to dry your hair, a big dopey grin on your face from last night’s events. You began to wonder- was a real relationship with someone on the grid possible? Something more than just fun nights and casual sex? You stood for a moment and stared at your foggy reflection in the mirror, trying not to get too ahead of yourself. It was just one night, and for all you knew it meant nothing to Carlos.

You made quick work of drying yourself off, the thought of him waiting for you making you feel like perhaps this weekend hadn’t been so awful after all. You slipped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt you thought used to belong to Daniel and threw your hair up into a high pony before giving yourself one last look.

You went back into the bedroom, smiling ear to ear as you began to ask about how Lando would deal with having a meal without him when you realized he was gone. You furrowed your brow and glanced around in confusion thinking that he may have gone back to his room to change. You spotted your phone over on the nightstand and saw you had a couple texts from Daniel.

Daniel: Trouble x DR3 is in and it’s sick!!!

You chuckled and rolled your eyes at his messages. You and Daniel had decided to collaborate on a line of merch, and it seemed it had finally arrived. You decided to go by and check it out, and maybe shoot a text Carlos’ way on the way back. You padded down the hall to Dan’s room and only had to knock once before he was whipping the door open. He wished you good morning and was ushering you into the room with the enthusiasm of a toddler just up from a nap.

“Check it out. They wanted to set up a photoshoot for the launch, so let me know when you’re free.” He said, pulling a mint and purple-colored hoodie out of a box and holding it up over his chest. He was right, it was pretty damn cool. It had your number on one sleeve, Daniel’s on the other, and each of your logos across the back.

“And that is the very first one, just for you. We’ve got beanies and sweatpants too.” He told you, abruptly tossing the hoodie at you before fishing for the other pieces he mentioned.

“Wow, Danny, these are awesome. This was such a great idea.” You told him, inspecting each item over his shoulder. You’d never had a line of merch before, aside from team gear, and it was such a cool thing to share with your best friend. Dan always had new, cool merch and you were just excited to be a part of it.

“This might be my favorite line yet.” He announced before pressing a little kiss to the top of your head.

You considered telling him about your night with Carlos, but the idea made you feel a little silly, almost like you were in high school. You glanced at your phone and your smile dropped when you saw no text. You decided to send him one.

“Breakfast?” That was all you could think to say.

“How are you? After yesterday?” Dan pulled your attention back to him, his silly demeanor suddenly turning to one far more serious and concerned. You felt yourself forcing a smile before you could even think about what you wanted to say.

“Hey, I’m not the media. Don’t bullshit me.” Of course, Daniel was right. You let the expression fall and melted into a shrug.

“It fucking sucked, man. But I’ve gotta let it go and focus on the next race.” He nodded, full of understanding. Few people in this sport understood disappointment better than Daniel did.

“Yeah, I know. But you’re still in it. Anything can happen.” The tenderness in his voice almost brought you to tears, and then he was pulling you into a hug and lightly stroking your hair the way he knew you liked.

“And then something happened with Carlos,” You blurted out, your face still completely buried in his chest.

“Carlos Sainz? Junior or senior?” He asked in mock seriousness, getting an actual laugh out of you.

“Junior, dumbass.” You giggled as you pulled away, wiping a stray tear that you both chose to not acknowledge.

“He came over last night to check on me. And we hung out and watched movies and talked all night. I asked him to breakfast, and he said yes, I showered and when I came out he was gone. And now he’s not answering my text. I don’t get what happened.” All of it just sort of came tumbling out of you. He furrowed his brow and he thought for a moment before speaking.

“Reckon he went to change? Or maybe something came up?” You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with either reason.

“I guess. I just… thought maybe there was something there? I don’t know. All I know is I need a drink.” You concluded. Dan nudged you in the side a little playfully before saying “You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning. C’mon, I’ll be your breakfast buddy then.” You shook all of the uncertainty and frustration from the weekend out of your mind and grinned at the big goofball in front of you.

“But first,” He turned and reached back into the box and pulled another hoodie out.

“We’ve got to be in uniform.” He told you, tugging it on and making you giggle in delight.

“Let’s go get toasted,” Dan said, offering you his hand, which you gladly accepted. Breakfast with your best friend didn’t sound so bad.

The two of you wandered down the lobby, Daniel making you laugh with stupid jokes along the way. His company was exactly what you needed- at least you knew you could always count on him.

The restaurant was quite beautiful, adorned with huge windows and immaculately set tables. If it weren’t for Daniel, you would have felt silly and underdressed in your matching hoodies. The maitre d seated you immediately, and Daniel wasted no time in ordering your first round of drinks.

“So… more on that Carlos thing. Has he answered?” You went to peek at your phone.

“Nope. Still nothing.” You replied a little defeatedly.

“Weird. He seemed into you.” He answered, seemingly just as confused as you were. Finally, the mimosas arrived and you and Daniel shared a little clinkies.

What you were unaware of, was the fact that Lando was also having breakfast on the other side of the restaurant. He spotted the pair of you when you arrived and almost choked on his scone. He pulled his phone out and sent a text to Carlos.

Lando: Dude, she’s here with Daniel. What happened???

Lando kept sneaking little looks at the two of you, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious. Honestly, part of him wanted to go join you guys and see what the heck was going on.

Lando: They’ve got matching jumpers on.

His food was surely getting cold, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He knew Carlos had been pining over you for months, but he couldn’t figure out if it was his place to intervene. Daniel was his teammate, and he felt like their relationship was good enough for him to ask about whatever was going on between the two of you. But he’d seen you and Dan dismiss the relationship rumors at least a dozen times. Plus, Carlos was always bragging about how smooth he was with women and seeing him struggle made Lando just the tiniest bit amused.

Carlos: Yeah. They’re together.

Lando: I’m flying back to Monaco with them. Do you want me to talk to her?

Carlos: No. It’s fine.

Lando knew Carlos well enough to know it was not fine.

You and Daniel were probably about three to four mimosas in when you spotted a familiar face in the lobby. For a moment, you felt your heart leap up in your chest as you locked eyes with Carlos. Maybe there was some silly misunderstanding like Dan had suggested. And then you realized Carlos had his suitcase. He quickly averted his gaze and moved swiftly out of the lobby and towards a waiting car.

“What the hell?”

“What?” Dan questioned.

“Carlos just left with his suitcase. He looked at me and he left.” Dan furrowed his brow and sucked in through his teeth.

You tried to push the interaction out of your mind with a few more drinks and extra whipped cream on your waffles. Before too long, you were stuffed, and a bit tipsier than was probably good for you. You had to get ready to catch your flight, and you had not yet begun to pack. The thought made you lean back in your chair and groan.

“Reckon we better go get ready to leave,” Dan commented, glancing at his phone to check the time.

“Yeah, I know. Will you help me pack?” You asked, flashing your biggest, most pleading look.

“I think I better.” He chuckled in agreement. Daniel paid the bill and took you by the arm and helped you stumble all the way back to your room. Then you laid in bed while he essentially packed all of your things up for you.

“Alright, princess. Let’s go.” He announced, plopping down beside you and setting a hand on your hip. Something about the way the word ‘princess’ rolled off his tongue made you wish you had some extra time to spare.

If your run-in with Carlos had taught you one thing, it’s to not mess with how simple and safe your relationship with Dan was. Investing more feelings and going out on a limb with someone new was obviously not worth the risk. You had been more than content spending all of your free time beneath the sheets with Daniel- and that’s how things would stay. That’s why things had always been so good between the two of you. You’d both been hurt in your past and it was much easier to try to forgo making any new attachments to people- even ones you thought you could trust.

Next thing you knew you were boarding your private flight, one you opted to join Daniel and Lando on and some key McLaren team members. You traveled with Daniel and Lando as often as possible, because it was convenient, and one of your favorite ways to unwind and have fun with some of your best mates. You sat down beside the window and pulled out your little travel pillow, excited to sleep off your buzz. You felt the seat beside you shift and leaned over, resting your head on Daniel’s shoulder. Until you realized it was Lando’s shoulder. You shot up straight, a bit startled at the realization.

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Fuck, Lando. You scared the hell out of me.” You told him.

“Sorry. Expecting Daniel?” He questioned, an odd lilt to his voice that you couldn’t quite place. He had on one of his Team Quadrant hoodies and a pair of sweatpants, with some white Nike’s.

“Uh, well yeah. He lets me sleep on him.” You replied blankly, glancing around in search of your human body pillow.

“Yeah, I think he’s in the bathroom. Anyway, you guys are matching. That’s cute.” The conversation felt super odd and fishy. You furrowed your brow.

“He suggested we collaborate on some merch. These are just the first ones.” You explained, still confused by the interrogation and his sudden proximity. Thankfully, before that awkward confrontation could continue, Daniel was back and glancing down at Lando, arms up in confusion.

“Pretty sure that’s my seat.”

“Don’t think they’re assigned, mate.” Lando quipped in response. Dan just flashed you a look and you shrugged in return.

“Alright, you can stay, Lando. But I will sleep on you for the entirety of this flight.” You warned, flashing a stern look to show how serious you were. His eyes flickered between yours and Dan’s, as though questioning how idle your threat was.

“She’s serious.” Dan nodded in confirmation. Lando clenched his jaw before finally choosing to surrender. He grabbed his stuff and settled in one of the seats directly behind you.

“That was weird.” You whispered lowly to Daniel as he got comfortable in his seat.

“Yeah, don’t know what that was about.” He agreed, pulling out his phone and opening his camera. You pulled your sunglasses down, hoping to make your slightly inebriated state a bit less obvious. He snapped the photo, and it looked quite cute. He looked at you somewhat adoringly and you had your matching hoodies on. He added it to his story, tagging you, and simply wrote “TRBL x DR3”.

This was what you needed to focus on. The friends that were truly there for you, and your race to the championship. That mattered more than any fleeting romance ever could. You curled up against Dan and closed your eyes, thinking about all the ways you could recenter yourself with your week off. You wanted to get back to training immediately and come back with another race win now more than ever.

Just as you started to drift off, you felt your phone vibrate.

Carlos: Sorry about this morning. We probably shouldn’t see each other anymore.

You almost felt nauseous reading the text. What the hell did that mean and how were you supposed to respond to it? Not even twenty four hours ago, things were going so well. What could have possibly changed? Was all of the personal stories- your hopes, your fears- some sort of mind game to him? You decided to leave him on read. You wanted to discuss it with Dan, but Lando was barely two feet away and would no doubt relay anything he heard back to Carlos. You pushed your sunglasses back down, desperate to hide your misty eyes. At least you’d have time away to try to regain some dignity before you had to see his stupid handsome face again. The next race was in Imola- and you knew Ferrari would be front and center, it would be nearly impossible to get away from the guy. Hopefully you could come up with a better poker face by then. You slipped your headphones on and listened to what Daniel had once described as “angry girl music” and waited for the small motions of the plane to lull you back to sleep.

A/N: Part 3 here

Part one here

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Champagne Problems

CS x Reader x DR

A/N Hello friends! I apparently go on long hiatus' and then drop fics out of nowhere. Please enjoy the first part of what will be a series! Huge thank you to my muse and brainstorm buddy, @haterpenny. Any messages are hugely appreciated!

✨Please reply/reblog if you would like to be tagged in future parts.✨

Warnings: Smut, fwb situation, some light swearing, some questionable decision making, drinking.

Word count: 5K

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Part 4 here

Part 5 here

Part 6 here

Part 7 here

It never failed to blow your mind how a race felt like it lasted forever, but it was over in the blink of an eye. All you knew was how desperate you were to win.

For the first twenty laps, you and Lewis were neck and neck, with him about a second or so behind. You’d gotten away well at the start and did everything in your power to keep that lead. Unfortunately for Mercedes, a pit stop error plus your “perfect” (Christian’s words, not yours) performance led you to the race win.

You crossed the finish line feeling elated, shouting into the radio, likely blowing out the eardrum of your strategist in the process.

You pulled into the spot reserved for the race winner, feeling as though your heart may burst from your chest. One more race completed, the championship still within your reach.

You composed yourself enough to stand upon the car’s halo, your arms thrust over your head in celebration. The roars of your team and the massive smiles made you swell with pride, and you did everything you could to soak up such a perfect moment.

After leaping into your team’s arms and receiving several slaps to your helmet you were being rushed towards the podium. You climbed atop the highest perch, just past Lewis and- oh hell, was that Daniel in third? You had not yet had the opportunity to share the podium with your closest mate on the grid, and you were equal parts thrilled and disgusted at the shoey that was surely coming your way.

You stood as your National anthem played, bobbing slightly on your heels, finding it difficult to be still for even a moment with all of the excitement bubbling in your veins.

And then, those speakers began blaring Bizet’s beautiful Carmen and you were shaking that champagne as vigorously as your tired arms would allow. You coated Lewis with a generous spray, and shared a nice half-hug, exchanging words of respect and congratulations at one another’s result. Then your eyes caught Daniel’s, sparkling with mischief as he knelt down and removed his boot, his finger pointing at you and beckoning you towards him with a devilish grin across his lips.

You tried to look annoyed, but it was nearly impossible; he was glowing, that successful post-race mix of champagne and sweat making his curls lay flat, his cheeks flushed and pink from exertion. He filled his shoe to the brim, some overflow sloshing as he raised the boot to his lips before taking a long, generous gulp.

You wrinkled your nose in slight disgust, as you realized you were next. Soon he was standing before you, his hand outstretched in offering. He had that huge, gleaming smile that nearly blinded you, and then you were drinking out of the man’s shoe. One gulp, then two, then three, earning a delighted eye raise from Daniel and a laugh that made his Adam’s apple bob ridiculously. If you were going to do it, you were going to do it right. Lewis politely declined the offered shoey, an uncomfortable smile on his cheeks- this wasn’t his first rodeo.

Then Dan was slipping an arm around your waist, his trophy in one hand, to pose for the mass of photographers and fans standing below. After a moment he set his trophy down and playfully hoisted you up, earning a surprised laugh from you.

Your friendship with Daniel was well known among fans and other drivers alike, and this was your first shared podium after three years in the sport together. What they didn’t know was just how close you and Daniel were. The look he was giving you on that podium- you’d know that devilish expression anywhere. It gave you a glimpse into his plans for the evening ahead, plans that promised hours with his head trapped between your thighs.

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself,” He whispered as he eased you back down to your feet, topping it off with a cheeky wink. You hadn’t expected him to be quite so forward in front of so many people, but his boldness just made you even more excited for the celebrations that the evening had in store.

After stepping off the podium and speaking to the many news outlets, you were sticky from the champagne and wanted nothing more than to take a shower. You decided to throw your hair up in a messy bun and opted to wait for the much nicer shower in your hotel room rather than the cramped, lukewarm water that your private room at the track offered.

In the car back to the hotel you were busy reliving the afternoon’s events, the pure elation you felt as you passed the finish line and the absolute glee that seemed to burst out of you as you stood upon the highest pedestal. And to top it off, Daniel was standing right beside you, just as he always had.

You hopped out of the car and checked your phone as you stood in the lobby, waiting for the elevator. Almost as if on cue, a light vibration alerted you to a text.

Big Dick Ricc: Is now a good time to celebrate? 😈”

His text read, simultaneously making you roll your eyes and smirk. That was what he had chosen to name himself in your phone, but it never failed to make you laugh.

Y/N: Room 355.

You replied simply, wandering down the hall and swiping your key card.

You and Daniel had been casually hooking up on and off for the last year or so. It was spontaneous, fun and no strings attached. The adrenaline of race weekend was something you both understood, not to mention the fact that it was nearly impossible to maintain relationships with people outside of the sport. It had started with too much champagne in Monaco, and your familiarity began to drift into lingering touches and lustful looks exchanged until he invited you back to his room. Initially, you were worried about complicating your relationship but surprisingly, things remained rather simple. You had agreed that you weren’t interested in a relationship, rather the opportunity to blow off some steam with someone you trusted and truly loved. You had also agreed that it was best that your escapades remain a secret. You didn’t want the other drivers- or anyone else for that matter- judging you. You were the only woman on the grid and with that role came garnering more harsh judgment.

You started the shower and allowed the steam to fill the room as you undressed, your still-damp coveralls tossed carelessly into your sink to dry. Just moments later you heard the sound of a knock at your door and you wrapped yourself in a towel to answer it. You tugged it open, expecting to see Daniel, but instead stood Carlos Sainz. Your initial reaction was confusion, followed by embarrassment at your state of undress. Carlos smiled, his eyes sneaking a quick glance at your form before pretending he didn’t notice. Carlos was back in his regular clothes, a dark green t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and say congratulations.” He said honestly, his red lips pulled into a grin.

“Oh, thanks. I uh, was just about to get in the shower. I’m sticky from champagne.” You explained, laughing slightly before realizing maybe just how suggestive that sounded. You swore his cheeks flushed lightly just from the picture your words had painted for him.

“Of course. I just thought I’d let you know, we’re going out tonight. If you want to come.” You were touched at the invitation and smiled warmly in response.

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll text you later.” You told him, leaning against the doorframe and looking up at him with big eyes. He paused for a moment and looked as though he wanted to speak, but instead opted for a smile and a nod before saying his goodbyes and turning on his heel. You mentally breathed a sigh of relief that Daniel had not managed to arrive during that short period of time. That would open you up to questions you didn’t wish to answer.

And then there was your relationship with Carlos. He had been putting in a bit of effort to speak with you and spend more time with you. He’d even asked you out for a meal or two. But whether he was looking for romance or pleasant friendship was unclear.

The hotel room was big and elegant, the walls painted a dark blue color with gold accents littered about. One thing you loved about this sport- your accommodations were always top-notch.

You went back in to check on the shower when finally you heard a weirdly elaborate knock that was surely Daniel. You tugged the door open and there he stood, arms already outstretched and waiting for you, a big goofy grin on his face. You grabbed him by his t-shirt and pulled him through the door, dropping your towel in the process. His hands felt so big and greedy against you, and you’d been craving his touch all day. He kissed you eagerly, his one hand splayed over your hip while the other came up to caress your cheek.

“You looked so fucking sexy up there,” Daniel said hotly, pulling back for a moment to take you in in all of your glory.

“Winning beside you makes it so much better,” You sighed, desperately reaching for his lips once more. You led him to the bathroom and started grabbing at the hem of his shirt, and he quickly obliged, tossing it aside carelessly while you worked on unbuttoning his pants.

“You still taste like champagne,” He told you before taking a long, slow lick from your collar to right below your ear pulling a moan out of you.

“Oh fuck, Danny. I need you.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tattoos splayed across his bicep as he kicked his pants and underwear aside. The shower was a large walk-in, perfect for the amorous activities you had planned.

Daniel loved to put his hands on you. He had no problem letting you be in charge, but there was something indescribable about the way your body responded to his ministrations. He pressed you back against the wall, the chill of the tile bringing goosebumps to your skin.

“You know you’ve got me, you’ve always got me, doll,” He said as he dropped to his knees, edging your thighs apart with his palms. God, you’d never get sick of seeing him worship you the way he did. You watched as the water slipped through his hair, dampening his curls and sticking them back on his forehead. His lips were parted as he looked up at you, his chest heaving slightly as if holding back from you were an effort in and of itself.

You reached down and fondly ran your knuckles over his cheek before tracing his bottom lip with your thumb.

You used your hand to pull him closer to you, earning a slight chuckle at your impatience from him before he put his mouth where you wanted it most. You loved when Daniel went down on you. He was relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, licking and sucking lightly on your clit. Your legs felt like jelly already, and he’d barely just begun. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and held you in place as you wriggled against him, bucking your hips against him, desperate for friction. You nestled your hand in his hair, tugging slightly in encouragement and guidance, although he certainly didn’t need it. He knew your body and made you feel better than anyone else ever had. One of his palms snaked up to your ass, which he grabbed a greedy handful of eliciting a surprised groan from you. Once he was sure you could handle it he pushed one finger into you, and then a second. You could feel yourself flutter around him, and knew that you were already dangerously close to your orgasm.

Daniel always ate you out like it was the last chance he’d ever get, zeroing in on the spots that drove you wild until your legs were shaking and all you were capable of doing was moaning his name. He settled into a rhythm and lapped at your core until you were seeing stars and his name was falling from your lips like it had from the crowd of fans just that afternoon. He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a more gentle pace, his tongue licking long, languid stripes over your clit until you settled back into yourself.

He steadily got back to his feet, one hand finding its way back to your hip (he loved your hips) while the other brushed some of your damp hair out of your face.

“You earned that, sweetheart.” He said before pressing a deep kiss to your already swollen lips. Still, you could barely process what he was saying, you felt tingly all over like he had electrocuted you somehow.

“Do you want me?” He asked, his forehead nearly touching yours, his eyes searching for your response.

“Yes, Daniel, please.” You finally found the words you were looking for and wrapped your arms around him in an effort to better support yourself. He lifted your leg and secured it around his hip while your other kept you steady in the slippery shower. Daniel took the space he needed between your thighs and lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, allowing you just a moment or so to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in again. Soon he was moving faster and you felt like a mere ragdoll in his arms, so blissed out from your high that he could do whatever the hell else he wanted for you and you’d happily take it.

You had had Daniel so many times before, in so many different positions, but there was something about this position and the access it offered that you found so incredibly satisfying. His wet, strong chest pressed against yours, the tight grip of his hand supporting your thigh while he buried himself in you in a way that made you eagerly await his next “You up?” text.

He let out a low groan that you were all too familiar with, one that meant he was about to finish. You ran a free hand down his chest and captured his moans with a kiss as his hips stuttered and he came inside of you. He stayed with you frozen in that closeness for a moment. While you weren’t exclusive, everything between you and Daniel was full of love and tenderness because above all else, he was your best friend.

“That is the best way to celebrate a podium,” He said after a moment, chuckling deeply in a way that usually made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t disagree with the sentiment. You grabbed the washcloth that hung on the spigot and held it out to Daniel and looked up at him with big, pleading eyes.

“Wash me?”

“Since you won today? Fine.” He replied, accepting it and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before returning to his knees once more. Dan lathered the washcloth with some body wash and ran it up and down the length of your leg, and over the curve of your ass- an area that he liked to give special attention to.

“I mean, I feel like you made the mess. The least you can do is clean it up.” You quipped, a playful smirk pulling at your features as you watched him work.

“Oh, you mean the mess you begged me to make? This mess?” He asked, reaching up and cupping your sex, making you jump slightly and giggle. You swatted his hand away and allowed him to get back to his task, adding a bit more soap before continuing up towards your back.

“I forgot to tell you, Carlos invited me to a thing tonight. Do you want to go? I think Lando and Charles and the other guys will be there too.”

“Yeah, we’ve still got celebrating to do.” He agreed, popping the lid on the hotel’s shampoo and pouring it into his hands before running his fingers through your hair. You groaned at the feeling- you loved when Daniel washed your hair. It was the ultimate luxury as far as you were concerned- and certainly, one you deserved after such a triumphant day.

Once you were done enjoying your shower, you stepped out and began to get ready. You rifled through your drawers for something fun and sexy, hoping to feel confident and enjoy the wealth of attention you were sure to get.

No one on the grid knew about you and Daniel’s little arrangement, and you preferred to keep it that way. You’d known Daniel for far longer than the other drivers and your relationship had always come with a simple wordless understanding that you knew one another better than anyone else could. Still, you were the only woman on the grid and you wanted your competitors to respect you. You weren’t in Formula 1 to fuck around, you were there to win. Daniel understood. You didn’t have to explain yourself to him, you could let your guard down and say or do whatever you wanted, and you knew he’d never look at you any differently. But if you were bed-hopping on the grid you’d look like a joke. You refused to let that be the narrative that surrounded you. Instead, you’d be the first woman to win the World Drivers’ Championship.

Finally, you settled on a pink dress, one short enough to show your legs off, and low cut enough to draw eyes. Nothing made you feel quite as sexy as holding a trophy above your competitor‘s heads while people chanted your name, but a hot outfit for a club wouldn't hurt.

As you did your makeup, Daniel finished showering while loudly singing a song you didn’t know. Once you decided your makeup was acceptable you moved on to your hair, dying it quickly with a blow dryer before plugging in your curling iron.

“You look nice,” Daniel said, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel to dry off. Just as you were about to respond, your phone dinged on the counter.

Carlos: Here’s the address. See you soon!

You gave Carlos the thumbs up on his text and started curling a section of your hair.

“Danny, you almost ready?” You asked, glancing in his direction in the mirror. He was pulling his outfit from earlier back on, a quick nod in answer to your question.

Once you were satisfied with your looks, you headed down to the lobby together to grab a taxi. The club was only about fifteen minutes away, and you were eager to see the rest of your friends. It had been a while since you had been out with the other drivers. Everyone’s schedules were always so jam-packed, that you often didn’t have time during the season to hang out with anyone other than your teammate, who just so happened to be Checo Perez. And while he was lovely, he wasn’t exactly the biggest party-er on the grid.

After posing for a few photos and a quick check-in with the bouncer, you were ducking into the dimly lit club, immediately overwhelmed by the pulsing music and crowd of sweaty dancers. You searched the crowd until you finally caught sight of Carlos, sitting in a corner, shouting into the ear of Lando Norris.

____________________________________

Carlos looked down at the text, his chest now feeling much like a swarm of butterflies, his leg anxiously bouncing below the table. Lando seemed to notice, a smirk pulling at his features to see his normally suave friend in such a state.

“Relax, man. She’ll be here.” Lando said, raising his soft drink to his lips.

“Yes, I know. It’s fine, I’m fine.” The Spaniard replied almost a bit too quickly, forcing a smile and turning his phone face down. Pierre and Charles were on the other side of the table, much oblivious to the situation, quickly speaking in French to one another. Finally, the pair paused and turned “Shots? I think we need shots.” Charles announced, reading the expression of the two former teammates that were not matching his vibe.

“No!”

“Yes!” Carlos agreed, much to Lando’s chagrin. Perhaps a bit of liquid courage would help him calm down a bit.

“Right, you can do a shot. I’ll be fine, thanks.” Charles was satisfied enough with the responses and went to the bar with Pierre to help bring their drinks back.

“Carlos, what exactly is the plan here anyway? You’re gonna have a dance, tell her you’re in love with her?” Lando questioned sarcastically, leaning awkwardly close to be sure Carlos could hear him over the extremely loud bass of a song that he couldn’t understand any of the words to.

“I’m not in love with her,” Carlos yelled back, somewhat defensively.

“Sure,” Lando replied, fully unconvinced. Carlos went back to eyeing the entrance, trying not to seem as desperate as he truly felt. Luckily for him, Charles was back and handing out Tequila shots, which proved to only distract him for the amount of time it took the liquid to pass his lips.

And then he caught sight of you, pushing through the crowd, scanning faces in search of his. He threw his hand up to catch your attention, a big smile across his face. A smile that fell as he caught sight of Daniel Ricciardo trailing behind you, holding onto your hand.

“She brought Daniel.” He said, the dejection clear in his voice. Lando pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, admittedly a bit disappointed for his friend.

Carlos stood in greeting and you pulled him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“What are we drinking boys? Except you, Lando. I know you’re drinking Root Beer.” You only half-joked, an unamused smirk covering his features.

“Daniel, I didn’t know you were coming,” Lando said, rising to give his teammate a friendly slap on the back.

“Um, we’ve got a world championship contender to celebrate,” Daniel replied, nudging you in your side. You rolled your eyes, embarrassed about all the fuss.

“Lewis has been blowing us away and we’re finally catching up. If that’s not something to celebrate, I don’t know what is.”

“Cheers to that!” Charles yelled in agreement, raising what must have been his third shot.

“Apparently we need to catch up. I’ll be right back.” Daniel told you, nodding towards the bar. You shouted your order after him along with a thank you and turned your attention back to Carlos.

“I saw you finished P4 today, brilliant result.” You told him, poking him in the chest suggestively.

“Yeah, definitely happy.” He replied although he did not look happy in the least. In a moment, Daniel was back and pulling you from Carlos’ side. You threw back a shot. Then another. And Charles and Daniel egged you on enough that you had a third.

Once he deemed you tipsy enough, Dan pulled you onto the dance floor. Few things made you laugh harder than Daniel dancing, and since you were a little drunk, the dancing got a little dirtier. He held your waist and planted a thigh between your legs, allowing you a little friction as you bobbed and swayed to the music. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned down into your neck, his hands starting to wander to your ass. Truthfully, you should have been way more composed. You didn’t want the other guys seeing you looking horny and drunk, but eh. You decided to indulge and enjoy the evening. After a few songs, Daniel pulled away, determined to get another drink into you.

Charles and Pierre were somewhere on the dance floor, also too drunk to know how stupid they looked.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice that Carlos didn’t quite seem to be himself. You decided to do something about it, locking eyes with him and pushing past people, and making your way over to where he sulked.

“Come on, come show me that Spanish passion I’ve heard so much about.” You said, shooting him a wink and reaching your hand out to him. His expression finally broke, a big, goofy smile spreading across his features. You led him back to the dance floor, not without noticing the pleasant way in which his hand fit into yours.

“Oh, I can show you passion.” He whispered as you turned your back towards him, rubbing a little more ass across his crotch than friends usually do. You snuck your hand back behind his neck, pulling him close as you swayed, his hands firmly planted on your hips. Feeling Carlos moving behind you was new and exciting, and maybe it was just how drunk you were, but there was nothing that you wanted more than to take him back to your room. Still, you were friends, and maybe it wasn’t entirely appropriate for you to be grinding so hard against him. You swore that maybe he was thinking the same thing you were, the way his hands glided down your skin and his hips moved against yours- you were thinking some very not PG thoughts. He spun you around and pulled you into his chest, his fingers pushing some of your loose hair behind your ear, then tilting your chin up to make you meet his gaze. You were pretty sure he wasn’t looking at you like you were a friend. You found yourself thinking about his full, pink lips and how flushed his cheeks were. He looked so focused with his brow knit together, so in the moment- like there was no one else around. You loved when Carlos had a fresh shave, he looked so damn handsome and he even smelled amazing- you swore you saw Lando throw a thumbs up in your direction, but you didn’t get time to think about it before-

“OI! Get your ass over here! I’ve got another round for you!” You don’t know how Daniel’s voice was able to cut over the noise of the club, but it did. His voice pulled you back to reality, almost like a rubber band snapping. You dropped your hands away from Carlos, suddenly feeling embarrassed by how carried away you had allowed yourself to get.

You avoided his eyes for a moment before saying “How about another drink?” Carlos looked a bit dejected but followed you anyway.

After your drink, you headed back to dancing, this time with Charles and in a much more PG way. He had you laughing, and you could tell the next morning would certainly be rough for him.

Finally, at around 3 am, you were running out of steam. You were seated in the booth, trying to understand Charles’ broken English when Daniel nudged you on the shoulder.

“You ready to go, darling?” He asked. “I think you might need a chaperone.” He added cheekily, shooting a wink in your direction. You stood, and immediately you were a bit wobbly. He was right. You linked your arm in his and turned to the other men, all in various states of sobriety.

“Salut, boys. Thank you for a good time, Carlos.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before focusing all of your lowered inhibitions on Dan.

He helped you into the back of a cab and you leaned against him, his arm slipping around you.

“Alright, let’s get you home. How would you feel about… keeping this party going?” Daniel asked lowly, his appetite insatiable as always. You giggled but returned his question with a kiss.

————————————————————

Carlos hated having to watch you leave with Dan. Holding you in his arms, getting to feel you move against him, it felt so good, so right. There was no way you could be oblivious to that. He laid in his hotel room bed, scrolling through Instagram when Daniel’s most recent post popped up. It was a picture of you, from the club last night and the caption read “Winning GPs and hearts. Here comes Trouble.” Trouble was the affectionate nickname the reporters had dubbed you upon your arrival in F1. The reason being you were a fierce competitor and always ready to cause trouble on the grid. Well, no one could argue how well it suited you. Carlos clenched his jaw in frustration, feeling so close yet so far away from you. It seemed like he could never have a moment alone with you as Daniel was never far behind. He knew you’d been good friends for many years, but your relationship seemed far more intimate than any other typical friendship. Just as he felt hopeless, his phone dinged.

Y/N: Thank you for the invitation last night and the dance. 😏

The message did not quell Carlos’ frustrations, it was just as ambiguous as every interaction he had with you. He decided to roll the dice and send back a flirtatious reply.

Carlos: I’m more than just a good dancer.

He pressed send feeling like he may explode and immediately took a screenshot and sent it to his best friend.

Carlos: I'm fucked.

Lando: I know.

Part 2 : I Knew You Were Trouble

Part 3 : It’s Nice To Have A Friend

Part 4: Mad Woman

Part 5: This Is Me Trying

Part 6: Everything Has Changed

Part 7: Dancing With Our Hands Tied

Daniel: Hey do you have any shaving cream?

Lando: No I don't like the way it tastes.

Daniel: You eat shaving cream-

Lando: No, why would I if I don't like the way it tastes?