#lerclerc

He tilted his head, considering. “I think I am.”

“I think you’re delusional.”

“I think you like me more than you let on.”

I nearly choked on my own spit. “Excuse me?”

His grin widened. “You heard me.”

I scoffed, pushing past him, because entertaining this conversation any further would only fuel his already massive ego.

“You keep running away, Leclerc, but I’ll always catch up.”

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t trust myself not to throw something at his stupid, smug face.

The Ferrari garage was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of strategy, precision, and teamwork. Instead, it was my personal battlefield.

Lewis Hamilton had been at Ferrari for exactly three months, and somehow, in that time, he had managed to make my life a living hell.

“Careful, Y/N. If you glare at the telemetry screen any harder, it might just burst into flames.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to look up from Charles’s race data. “If you open your mouth again, I’m going to shove a shoe in there”

Lewis chuckled, unfazed. “Ah, but then who would entertain you? I mean, let’s be honest, your life would be dreadfully boring without me.”

I finally turned to face him, arms crossed. “maybe if you could still win races people would like you more”

“Harsh,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as if I’d wounded him. “And yet, you’re still standing next to me. Almost like you enjoy my company.”

I scoffed, turning back to the screen. “Almost like you follow me around like a lost puppy.”

Charles, sitting nearby, sighed loudly. “Do you two ever stop?”

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice just loud enough for me to hear. “Nope.”

I shot him a glare and turned to Charles. “I’ll stop when he does.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted. “Y/N, come on. He’s not that bad.”

I gasped in mock betrayal. “Not that bad? Charles, he’s been driving me insane for months!”

Lewis grinned, clearly enjoying my irritation. “You wound me, truly. But I’ll admit, it is rather fun watching you get all worked up.”

I pointed a finger at him. “Maybe if you were as tall as your ego, you would have seen that this conversation was over before it started.”

Lewis tilted his head, clearly amused. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

I spluttered, too frustrated to form words. Charles, sensing my imminent explosion, stood up. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said, giving me a pointed look. “Y/N, you can’t spend all season at war with him. It’s exhausting for all of us.”

“Tell that to him!” I gestured wildly at Lewis.

Lewis put his hands up innocently. “Hey, I’m just here to do my job. If winding you up is a natural side effect, well… I won’t apologise.”

Charles groaned. “You’re both impossible.”

Lewis winked at me. “Come on, Princess. Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The only thing I’d miss is the peace and quiet.”

And yet, as I stormed off, I couldn’t ignore the way his stupid, cocky grin lingered in my mind.

I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to annoy me more than my twin brother Charles but Lewis was giving him a run for his money.

I was just walking past the paddock when I heard that unmistakable voice. “Can’t say I’m surprised you’re not in the garage yet. You’re always late, aren’t you?” Lewis smirked, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.

“Wow, Lewis, great observation,” I replied, barely able to hide the irritation in my voice. “What would I do without you pointing out the obvious?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You know, I’m not the one who’s constantly trying to play catch-up.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m trying to focus on the race, not your endless attempts to stir the pot.”

He laughed, and I could feel my blood pressure rise. It was always like this. Whether we were at a race, in a press conference, or even at a charity event, Lewis had a way of getting under my skin, making sarcastic comments just when I least expected it. And no matter how much I tried to ignore him, he always managed to make a snide remark that made me want to scream.

But that was Lewis Hamilton for you. Competitive, sharp-tongued, and, apparently, incapable of leaving me alone.

I kept walking, hoping that maybe this time he’d keep his mouth shut. But of course, he didn’t. “You know, I’m surprised you can even walk with that big ego of yours,” he called after me. “Not that I blame you for being cocky, though. It must be hard to keep up with your brother all the time.”

I didn’t even bother looking back. “Where are you, Lewis? Nowhere near the podium, that’s where,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I couldn’t help it something about his smugness always made me want to one-up him.

I smirked as I walked off, hearing his surprised chuckle behind me. The satisfaction of getting one over on him never grew old. But I couldn’t resist after a few steps, I let out a quiet laugh. I could almost feel his frustration, and that alone made my day.

Later, I was sitting with Charles in the paddock, waiting for his to go to the team’s briefing. my mind kept drifting back to Lewis.

Charles, ever the curious one, looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. “What was that about earlier with Lewis?”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “The usual. He can’t help but stir me up at every opportunity.”

Charles chuckled. “He’s relentless, isn’t he? But why do you let him get to you?”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “It’s not like I have a choice, Charles. He knows exactly how to push my buttons.”

Charles leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “You know, I’ve noticed that whenever he’s around, he’s always teasing you. But there’s something different about the way he does it. It’s like he’s... trying to get your attention.”

I blinked, taken aback. “What? Are you seriously suggesting....”

“I’m just saying,” Charles interrupted, “he never picks on anyone else like that. It’s always you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. “Charles, please. He’s just being a prick.”

But Charles wasn’t done. He looked me dead in the eye. “Maybe. Or maybe he likes you more than you realise.”

I stared at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Charles sighed. “I’m just saying, maybe Lewis is trying to get your attention in his own way. He might not show it, but there’s something there.”

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I hated Lewis Hamilton, didn’t I? Sure, he could be irritating, but that didn’t mean... No. No way.

Just as I was about to reply, a familiar voice cut through the air. “You two done gossiping, or should I come back later?” It was Lewis, standing a few feet away, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

I shot him a glare. “We weren’t gossiping, Lewis. We were having a serious conversation.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure. But if you’re done, you know where to find me.” He gave me that smug look, the one I’d come to hate, and turned to walk off.

Before he got too far, I called after him, unable to resist. “Hey, Lewis! If you need help finding your way to the podium, I’m happy to give you directions.”

His footsteps faltered for a moment, and I could feel his gaze on me. I smirked, knowing I had once again left him speechless.

As he walked away, I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. And for some reason, that only made me want to get under his skin even more.

The tension between Lewis and me wasn’t exactly subtle. It was like we were constantly in some kind of unspoken battle one minute, we were throwing insults back and forth, and the next, I could feel his eyes on me, trying to figure me out.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew Lewis liked to rile me up, but Charles might be right there was something more to it something that made the whole thing a little more complicated. It was as if his teasing wasn’t just about getting a rise out of me. No, there was something else there, lurking just beneath the surface. And I hated it.

But there was no denying it he always had a way of getting under my skin when I least expected it.

It was another morning at the track, and I was rushing to get to the garage before the team meeting started, I wasn't officially part of the team but being Charles twin sister he liked me to be around for everything and I wanted to be there.

As I rounded a corner, there he was Lewis, once again leaning against the wall like he owned the place.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss ‘I’m too good for this’,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“Not in the mood, Lewis,” I snapped, not bothering to slow down as I walked past him.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” he called after me. “I was just hoping you’d give me a smile for once. You know, before you disappear into your little world of pretending you don’t care about anything.”

I turned back, narrowing my eyes at him. “Maybe you should try smiling more, Lewis. You might not look so miserable all the time.”

He grinned, unphased. “Miserable? Nah, I’m just waiting for the day when you finally admit I’m right.”

“Fat chance,” I muttered under my breath, walking away.

But just before I stepped into the garage, I couldn’t resist one final jab. I turned back and looked at him, still leaning there like he was untouchable.

“Where’s your podium finish, Hamilton?” I called out with a smirk. “Don’t see you up there much these days.”

He chuckled, his usual cocky grin still plastered on his face. “You’re funny, I’ll give you that. But trust me, you’ll be the one eating your words when I’m back at the top.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” I replied, walking into the garage with a bit more confidence than I felt.

Later that day, after a rather uneventful practice session, I found myself in the team hospitality area, nursing a cup of coffee and trying to calm my racing thoughts. I was lost in thought, staring out the window when I felt someone approach. I looked up, expecting to see one of the Ferrari team members, but instead, it was Charles.

He sat across from me, his usual calm expression in place. “You and Lewis still at it, huh?” he asked, half-smiling as he sipped his own coffee.

“Wouldn’t be a day in the paddock without it,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair. “The guy can’t help himself. It’s like his sole mission in life is to make my day miserable.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You know, I don’t think it’s just about making your day miserable, Y/N. He gets a rise out of you. And I think he likes it.”

I scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Charles leaned forward, his voice quieter now. “Look, I know you two like to bicker. It’s your thing. But there’s something more going on. He doesn’t just tease you for fun. It’s like... he wants you to notice him.”

I shook my head, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. “Please, Charles. Don’t start with that again. Lewis Hamilton doesn’t want anything from me. He just enjoys getting under my skin.”

I was in denial.

Charles didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further. “Alright, but just remember, he’s been around the block a few times. If he’s giving you attention, it’s probably because he wants it.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re playing matchmaker now.”

He shrugged, clearly amused. “I’m just saying. You never know. And just so you know, he actually respects you a lot more than you think.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “You’re telling me Lewis Hamilton respects me? The same guy who’s been calling me a ‘cheerleader’ every chance he gets?”

Charles laughed. “I didn’t say he always shows it in the right way, but yeah, he does. Trust me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just sipped my coffee in silence, feeling a little uncomfortable with the idea. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe there was more to Lewis’ jabs than I cared to admit.

A few hours later, I found myself once again face-to-face with Lewis, but this time it was after the race. I was walking past his drivers room when I noticed him standing outside, talking with a few other drivers.

And of course, being Lewis, he spotted me first.

“Hey, Y/N!” he called, his voice louder than necessary. “You lost something? Maybe your way to the podium? oh wait you're not a diver shame”

I stopped in my tracks, frustration boiling inside me. I couldn’t help but shoot back with a sarcastic smile, “No, i'm just looking for someone who can actually finish a race in the top three. You know, unlike you.”

There it was again the feeling that I couldn’t stop this game of insults. But just as I was about to walk off, I saw something in his eyes. It wasn’t the usual cocky smirk, but something more like... surprise. Maybe even a little impressed.

“Well,” he said, grinning despite himself, “you’ve got a sharp tongue. I’ll give you that.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, if I didn’t, I’d probably be stuck listening to your endless banter all day.”

the next day, I found myself back in the paddock, standing alone by the fence. Charles had already gone off with his team, and the rest of the drivers were either preparing for the next event or talking among themselves.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find none other than Lewis, standing there with that typical confident grin.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I just wanted to say, you really got me with that comment earlier. Not bad for someone who claims not to care.”

I smirked, feeling a bit of pride swell in my chest. “Yeah, well, sometimes I just have to make sure you don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

the next day was a strange day. The kind of day when everything seemed just a bit off, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

I was walking through the paddock after yet another long day of making sure Charles was where he needed to be.

But today everything was different.

For once, he wasn’t saying anything.

I saw him standing by the Ferrari garage, chatting with his team, and for a split second, I actually thought about walking over to start the usual back-and-forth. But as I got closer, I noticed something strange he didn’t look like his usual cocky, self-assured self. He looked... tired. A little distant. Like something was on his mind.

Normally, I would have teased him about looking like he'd lost his spark, but today, I couldn’t do it. Not when it felt like he was already carrying something heavy.

I kept walking, but something inside me tugged. I stopped just a few steps away, hesitated, and then turned around, finding myself walking back towards him without even really thinking about it.

“Lewis,” I said, my voice softer than usual. “Are you okay?”

He looked at me, clearly startled by the question. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, as if unsure of how to respond. For the first time in ages, he didn’t have a quip ready. No sharp comment, no sarcastic smirk.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but there was something in his voice that didn’t sound entirely convincing. “Just... thinking.”

I nodded, biting my lip. “If you need to talk, you know where I am.”

He gave me a surprised glance, as though the idea of me offering genuine care was something foreign to him. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but it wasn’t mocking just... thoughtful. His eyes softened, and for a moment, I could see the vulnerability he usually kept hidden behind his confident façade.

“I’m okay,” he said, this time more assured. “I’m just gonna win this one for you, baby.”

My stomach twisted.

I blinked, trying to hide the surprise I felt. I hadn’t expected the sudden softness in his voice or the pet name. The way he said it, so casually, made my chest tighten. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but something about that small, tender comment affected me more than it should have. It lingered in my mind, gnawing at me as I tried to shake it off.

He flashed me a soft smirk, but it wasn’t the usual cocky one. This time, there was a hint of sincerity behind it. He turned to walk away, and I stood there, feeling like the ground had shifted beneath my feet.

The race was intense. I could see the energy building as the drivers lined up, ready for the battle ahead. As the starting lights went out, the roar of engines filled the air, and the adrenaline surged through my veins watching Charles. But there was one thing on my mind more than anything else.

Lewis.

The strange exchange we had earlier kept replaying in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. He was always so quick with the insults, so certain of his own power over me but today, it had felt different. I’d seen a side of him I hadn’t expected, and it was unsettling.

I kept my eyes on the track, forcing myself to focus on Charles. But a part of me couldn’t help but watch Lewis, wondering if he was really going to win this for me. And, strangely, hoping that he would.

When the race finally ended, I stood in shock as I watched the results unfold. Lewis had done it. He’d won.

He came across the finish line with an impressive, almost unexpected surge, leaving the competition behind. His car shot past the final stretch, crossing the line with a triumphant roar. The crowd erupted in cheers, but for me, it felt like time stood still.

I didn’t even realise I had moved until I found myself standing near the Ferrari garage, watching the team celebrate. Lewis was right there, standing among the crew, accepting the congratulations with a rare humility. He was still the same fierce competitor, but there was something different about him. His usual cocky swagger had been replaced with something quieter something almost vulnerable.

And then he caught my eye.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked over to me. I thought he’d be as cocky as always, soaking in the victory. But no he approached me with the same soft look he had earlier. There was no smug smile, no taunting remark. Just him, looking almost... genuine.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “You’re not gonna believe it, but I actually owe this one to you.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his words. “What? You owe this one to me? You’re the one who drove like a champion.”

He shook his head, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his lips. “No, you don’t get it. All that teasing, all the insults... it pushed me. It gave me the motivation I needed to get back on the podium. You didn’t just get under my skin you made me remember why I love this sport. Why I fight for every inch.”

I blinked, unsure how to respond. I had expected him to gloat or boast, but instead, he was being... sincere.

“Well,” I said, trying to keep my composure, “maybe I should insult you more often, then. Seems like it works.”

Lewis chuckled, but it was soft more of a genuine laugh than anything else. “You should, actually. I like that side of you.”