Formula One Reader Insert

Carlos Sainz Jr; What was that?!

OH I AM SO PISSED FOR HIM AFTER TODAY, FUCKING HELL. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING.

I FEEL ANGSTY SO NOW DO YOU.

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"Guys, what are you doing?!" Carlos called down the radio, having been told to head to the pits. "I just got into third, I got past Checo!" His tone was aggressive and frustrated, confused as well with his team's decision to pit him so close to the end, despite the tyres starting to blister. 

"We still stand a chance, box, box, Carlos." A pit wall race strategist responded, Binotto looking concerned at the screen as Charles came over to see what was happening, without a word. Carlos muttered obscenities to himself as he headed into the pit, the team also now having to serve a five-second penalty at the same time. 

(Y/N) watched on from the pit wall, her head in her hands as she wiped away the tears that snuck out from under her eyes, having heard Charles' scream of any and all negative emotion after he lost control of his vehicle. The Monegasque made his way to the team member and wrapped her in a tight hug, his head resting against her shoulder as her arms encased him tightly, her tears flowing. She lifted her head and twisted it to look at his face, dried tears streaked down his face, fresh ones leaving trails. Her hand rested on his cheek as her thumb brushed away the stray tears, his cheekbones feeling red hot after all of the stress.

"You did well, Charles. I am so sorry." Her voice was breaking as she felt a hand returning the gesture, soft sobs escaping her as his bloodshot eyes looked at her.

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault. It was mine. I made a mistake." He admitted, having said multiple times he will always blame himself for anything that happens in a race. 

"I should've called you into the pits after your tyres started to wear out. It's very much my fault..." (Y/N) said as they shared an embrace again, but feeling a pair of fiery Spanish eyes burning into the back of her head. They pulled apart and watched Carlos enter the pit lane, the team stood still for the penalty before giving a quick change, Carlos speeding away but watching his team mate and the strategist.
Charles headed back to the garage, (Y/N) was watching Carlos' lap carefully as she played with her (H/C) hair, plaiting and knotting it with stress and anxiety. He was doing really well, having gone from nineteenth for third, only for him to only go for fifth at the end, the Perez-Russell battle really kept him behind Checo.

After the cooldown lap and interviews with the press, Carlos headed back to his driver suite, knowing (Y/N) would be nearby to speak to him. He rounded the corner, seeing Charles and his heart broke slightly, going to his friend and pulling him into a tender bro-hug. The Monegasque man just felt his hands cling to his friend's uniform. "Well done, mate. You deserve it." Charles said as he slowly pulled out of the embrace, patting the Spaniard's shoulder. Said Spaniard just nodded, ruffling Charles' hair before he walked away. 

As Carlos entered his driver room, he saw (Y/N) and his eyes lit into flames again. His strong hands slammed the door shut, looking her as she yelped, her (E/C) glossy and reddened. "What are you crying for? You didn't lose out on points. You didn't crash." He mumbled disgruntled, wanting to take his frustration out on someone who could've changed the call.

Her mouth hung slightly open, just staring at him as he angrily started to remove the articles of his race suit, throwing it wherever it would land. "What was that, (L/N)?! Huh?! Why didn't you stop someone putting that stupid plan into action?!" His tone was hostile, as if it was her decision to pit him, not the other strategist's, not Mattia's, hers. His brown eyes were darker than usual, obviously the anger was flowing freely in the heat of the moment. 

"Chilli..." She mumbled, scared to move as one of his race boots landed next to her, the other narrowly missing her back as it bounced off the wall. 

"You don't get to 'Chilli' me right now, (Y/N)!" He roared, standing as his full height in a short space. "You could've changed the outcome, you could've got me that fucking podium!" He closed the gap, one long stride was enough. "But you didn't!"