One Shots | Formula 1

CS♥

"Is there a reason you are naked in my bed?!" - Prompt request by anon.

The roar of engines filled the air as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the bustling paddock of the Formula 1 circuit. My heart raced with excitement, not just from the anticipation of the upcoming race, but also from the fact that I was about to share the track with the one and only Carlos Sainz, my teammate at Scuderia Ferrari.

People often see the glitz and glamour of the racing world, the podium celebrations and the camaraderie between drivers. The truth is, behind the scenes, it's a different story. Carlos and I were teammates, yes, but our relationship was more complicated than what the cameras captured.

In public, Carlos was always the perfect teammate – supportive, encouraging, and flashing that charismatic smile that made fans swoon. He had this way of making everyone feel at ease, like being a part of the Ferrari family was the greatest privilege in the world. And for the most part, it was. But behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of the media, there were moments when the harmony cracked, and the rivalry simmered.

One such instance occurred in the heart of our team headquarters. The air was thick with tension as we stood face to face, voices raised in a heated argument that echoed through the walls. Carlos, usually the epitome of charm, had his brows furrowed in doubt, his eyes piercing into mine.

"You've got to prove yourself on the track," he insisted, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I can't be carrying the weight for both of us."

The accusation hung in the room, and for a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of machinery. I felt a surge of frustration, the sting of his skepticism digging deep. I had fought tooth and nail to be here, to earn my place at Scuderia Ferrari, and yet, in that moment, it felt like my abilities were being called into question.

But I was no pushover. I squared my shoulders, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "I don't need you to carry anything for me, Carlos. I'm here because I earned it, not because I need your approval."

The tension lingered, a silent understanding that we were teammates bound by circumstance, not necessarily by choice. It wasn't the first time we clashed, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The racetrack was a battlefield, and every driver fought for their moment of glory.

As the season progressed, our disagreements became a familiar rhythm, like the purr of the engines before a race. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a strange undercurrent. Despite the clashes and the doubts, there was an undeniable chemistry that fueled our competitive spirit. It was as if the very differences that set us apart also created a magnetic pull that kept us intertwined.

The second dispute came after a particularly challenging race. We found ourselves in the debrief room, the weight of our unspoken disagreements hanging in the air. Carlos couldn't hide his frustration, and I couldn't ignore the gnawing doubt that had taken root in my mind.

"Your performance out there was lackluster, to say the least," he remarked, his words laced with a subtle accusation.

I bristled, refusing to let his words undermine my effort. "Not every race is a fairytale, Carlos. We all have our off days."

He scoffed, dismissing my words with a wave of his hand. "Off days are for rookies. We're Ferrari, and we can't afford mediocrity."

It was a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that the teammate who smiled for the cameras doubted my abilities when the doors were closed. But I wasn't one to back down. I would prove him wrong, not just for myself but for every person who had ever questioned whether a woman could truly compete in the world of Formula 1.