My Little Race Winner Cn21

my little race winner – cn21

clement is there to cheer you on after your first f3 win.

genre: fluff

pairing: gender neutral f3 driver!reader x boyfriend!clement novalak

warnings: none

requested: yes!

author’s note: clement makes me weak in my knees… anyways let’s pretend there isn’t only like 40 minutes between the f3 and f2 feature on sunday hehe. and also, the use of “little” doesn’t necessarily have to describe the reader being small. i would cry (happy tears) if clement called me little even though i’m almost his height 🤭

f2/f3 masterlist

few feelings beat the feeling of winning a race.

especially when the race has been long, competitive, and more strategic than usual. especially when it's your first ever win in formula 3, in your first year of competing in the series.

today in silverstone, where formula 1 first started some 70 years ago, you've taken the win in the feature race of the weekend. starting from p8, you didn't have any big expectations, but you hoped for a good race and some points for the championship. despite losing positions in the first few laps, you worked your way up and – with some help from perfectly timed safety cars – you were able to overtake the leader with just a few laps to go.

and the feelings exploding in your chest as you went past the finish line before anyone else were unlike anything you’d witnessed before.

standing up on the front of your car, you raise your arms in the air as the cheers grow louder. your teammate gabriel bortoleto finished just behind you in second place, and he comes up right next to you and helps you down before patting your back. "great race, congrats!" he says, his smile visible even through the open visor of his helmet.

"you too!" you tell him, returning the smile before you both make your way over to your team members waiting for you at the fence.

you pull off your helmet as you watch gabriel go along the crowd first. he is lucky to have kept his helmet on, because not only does he get hugs and back rubs; several of the mechanics insist on slapping the top of his helmet as he passes. you hoped they would go easier on you, but being the winner of the race, they all celebrate you even louder and harder. you hug them all tightly, thanking them for their great work, before stopping a few seconds extra with your trainer who has a full-on speech prepared for you.

you assumed your trained would be the last person in line to congratulate you, but just as you part from hugging him again, you feel a new hand on your shoulder. there is something about the touch, something that feels familiar – you'd felt this hand on you thousands of times. you know instantly who it belongs to.

your mouth drops in surprise once you turn your head to the side, watching as your boyfriend flashes you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. you throw yourself onto him, your arms draping around his neck. "hey," he starts, pulling away just a little bit to look into your eyes. "great race!"

"did you see it all?" you ask, followed by a squeal when he nods. you pull him back into your embrace. "i'm so happy! so so so so so happy!"

as he holds you close, clement starts to place chaste kisses on your cheek and down your neck, the combination of his lips and the feeling of his stubble against your skin making you squirm in his hold. "you should be, you’re amazing." you lean back a little, taking his face into your hands. "i mean, i'm not sure what you did in turn fifteen in the first lap, you could've just taken the inside and- ouch!"

you pinch his cheeks jokingly when he starts tormenting you, wanting to stop the strings of critique flowing from his mouth. "you suck," you tease, sticking your tongue out at him.

"oh, please, you love me."

his eyes twinkle with his smile, the white long-sleeve trident shirt hugs his muscles in just the right places while his racing suit hangs at his hips, and he looks far too good for someone who's just about to go sweat down an entire car for the next hour or so. how could you possibly stay upset with him?

you nod, reaching forward to place a quick kiss to his lips. "i do. and you love me too, i hope? despite my failures in lap one?"

a laugh bubbles from his chest. "most definitely." he gives you one more kiss before he looks at something right behind you. "i think they're calling for you. the podium awaits, and so on..."

you look back to see a worker waving for you to hurry up, so you turn back to your boyfriend. "oh. i'll see you after your race, then?"

he pulls you in for one last hug, pressing yet another kiss to your cheek. "my little race winner. i'm so proud," he whispers, and a slight blush spreads across your face at his words. once you part, he playfully pushes your shoulders towards the worker, not wanting you to hold up the ceremony anymore.

even more people congratulate you as you make your way through the building and towards the podium, but your mind is still stuck on something, and someone, else. you’ve managed to win your first ever race in f3, and to have clement by your side as you did it? how did you ever get so lucky?

few feelings beat the feeling of winning a race. but the feeling of standing on the podium, looking down at the crowd and making eye contact with clement, who's smiling like an idiot and cheering loudest of them all? that feeling's got to be in the top 3, at the very least.

Them 💙

What can fans expect from season 4?

+ tua makeup artist comment:

oh I'm dead btw

alisa recognizing daniil’s poster in the hallway brb gonna cry i love this family

Jannik [stoic face]: ...playing here in Turin, it means a lot to me, so let's see, it has been a -

[someone yelling offscreen]: Jannik!!

Jannik [without missing a beat, in an exasperated 'what can you do' voice]: Andrey.

[huge grin]