Ballgowns And Galas - Neymar Jr X Reader

Ballgowns and Galas - Neymar Jr x reader

Neymar Jr x female!reader

Requested? Yes/No: i would absolutely love a ney imagine where he and the reader (perhaps an actress or a singer) used to date during his early fame. they truly loved each other, but broke up eventually due to certain issues. as the years go by, they both date other people to get over the horrible breakup (all attempts ended up failing, they're still pining over each other 💀) so flash forward after a few years, ney and reader happen to meet at a gala / party bcs they were both invited. imagine the TENSION between them.. like "oh okay you're there and i'm here and this is all really happening"- that ended up really long </3 ILY AUTHOR your works truly have mesmerized ♡

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, implied smut

Word Count: 4.4K

AN: Sorry I’ve been gone for so long my loves, I’m back with all the fics you could ever want to request <3

—

Neymar was the ex-boyfriend you knew would never leave your mind. The two of you had dated when he quickly rose to fame but things, unfortunately, fell apart. Your career started to take off, you’d been contacted by major film directors and before you knew it you were in a different country every week with a camera in your face. No matter how much either of you tried to move on from one another it was always unsuccessful. Being an actress you were always swarmed by dating rumours, whether it was a co-star or just your assistant and Neymar kept track of every single one of them. 

Since the two of you split you two hadn’t spoken to one another and you hadn’t gone to any of his games. You used to turn up every week, whether he was playing for his country or his club but now the seat you once sat on was cold and it had been for many years. Although that wasn’t to say you didn’t care about him. You would still keep up with his matches, silently cheering for him every single minute. Your heart broke whenever he was injured or when he lost a match that clearly meant the world to him but you hid your feelings, the two of you were on different paths now. 

Little did you know Neymar was the same. He let as many girls as he could fling themselves towards him in an attempt to get over you but he was always unsuccessful. Sure he’d had a few relationships which had been very public but they never lasted, his head always drifted off to you no matter how much he tried to forget. Much like you with his football he always made an effort to watch what you were starring in, whether it was a period drama or a heartfelt rom-com. He would always wake up in the early hours of the morning to watch any award show you were featured on and although it killed him to see you smile without him he also knew he’d rather you be happy without him than you be upset whilst you were beside him. 

You’ve been in the news a lot recently due to your new project. Top Gun: Maverick was taking the world by storm, especially tiktok so it was no wonder why you and your co-stars were invited to attend. You were staring alongside Miles Teller and not to mention Tom Cruise, both men constantly praising your performance which landed you several calls from big Hollywood directors. 

“Excited for tonight?” Your hair stylist, Nat asked as she began her magic on her head. “A few people of interest are going tonight…” She smirked at your reflection in the mirror before her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You looked up from your phone, your eyes meeting her curious ones. 

“Well, there are some good-looking guys there… Harry Styles… Micheal B Jordan…. maybe if you get with one of them tonight you’ll finally stop crying over your ex.”

“ I don’t cry over Neymar!” You whipped your head around to give her a glare. “We split apart years ago.”

“And yet you too still make the headlines alongside one another.” She turned your head back to the mirror. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign for what?”

“To get back together.”

“A second ago you were telling me to fuck another man to get over him even though I am over him, it’s been years.” You lied and she knew it. Your heart would always stay with him no matter how many years went by.

She shrugged, the smirk on her lips still planted on her face. “The world works in mysterious ways y/n.” Rolling your eyes at her you went back to your phone, texting your co-stars who were attending the gala with you. 

The charity gala always brought in those who always hit the headlines, whether they were from the world of sports, fashion, music or film, or anyone you could think of. The event consisted of celebrities wearing their most expressive clothes whilst they paraded around a red carpet for all the photographers to see. They’d make their way inside and gaze at all the charity items up for auction before sitting down for a meal. After the food the auction would begin before it eventually ended with most celebrities getting drunk and regretting the money, they’d spent. 

“You look beautiful…” Your stylist smiled as you smoothed down your y/f/c gown. The dress hugged your body like a glove, showing off every curve you had. Smiling at her compliment you kept your eyes on the outfit. 

“You have really outdone yourself with this.” You turned around to face her, your smile beaming brighter. “Thank you…”

“Anything for Hollywood's favourite star.” She mirrored your expression, walking over to you and giving you a few last-minute touch-ups before the car came to take you to the event. 

—

The flashing lights of the paparazzi blinded you the second you stepped out of the car and onto the red carpet, your name being called in every direction filled the air as you flashed a smile towards the cameras. Your head darted to the side to catch a glimpse of the other celebrities who were walking off towards the exhibition. 

After posing for a few more photos you started to make your way down the carpet when a sudden loud noise grabbed your attention. Loud screams grabbed your attention as all the photographers suddenly turned their attention to the person who was leaving the car. The sudden commotion also caught your attention but unlike everyone else, you weren’t screaming for joy at who had left the car. Within seconds, you were making eye contact with your ex-boyfriend for the first time in years.

Of course, Neymar was here.

Your heart was in your throat at the sight of him. 

You hadn’t seen him in person since the day the two of you parted but there he was, standing right before you, his eyes burning into yours. You ripped your attention away from him, knowing that even that small yet longing glance would cause headlines and a surge of attention onto the two of you online. Your eyes searched for an escape and you found one in an interviewer. Her name was Madaline, and she always attended premiers and a few other galas you’d been invited to so a familiar face was all that you needed to put some distance between you both. 

“Madaline, hey!” You called to her whilst she checked her phone, the copper-haired girl looked up at you, a smile bright on her face as she caught your gaze.

“Y/n! Oh my God, you look stunning!” The pair of you embraced as if you were old-school friends. “You up for an interview?” 

“Of course!” Returning the smile your eyes darted over to Neymar who was now posing for photos before looking back at her as she handed you a microphone.

“Ready?” 

“Yes.” You took a deep breath, pushing Neymar to the back of your mind before focusing on the questions at hand. 

“Your dress is absolutely stunning, who designed it?” 

“Everything was made by the genius that is Vivienne Westwood.” You smiled, looking down at y/f/c dress which sparkled in the light. “Even the jewellery.” You gestured to the diamonds hanging from your neck. 

“It’s beautiful. And I see you have a small charm on your bracelet.” She pointed to the band around your wrist which had a small diamond plane hanging from the metal. The charm was a small added touch from Westwood representing one of the biggest films you’d been in this year. 

“Oh yes,” You held it up for her to see. “It was another one of Westwoods touches.”

“Does it come with a mini Tom Cruise inside of it?” She asked, a light laugh escaping her lips. You followed her laughter before letting your hand fall to your side. 

“If only it did.”

“I do have another question…” 

“Ask away.” 

“You and a certain co-star were getting rather close in Top gun… Miles Teller I believe it was.” 

Rumours had been flying all over the place when the two of you were filming despite the fact that he had a wife, a woman you’d met and grown rather close to during the many months of filming and even though you’d been seen with his wife many times in public and behind closed doors, fans still speculated that the pair of you had a fling going on. 

“I can assure you that nothing is happening between the two of us, he has a wife and -”

“Do you have someone?” Her brows arched yet she had a hesitant expression on her face, worrying that you’d snap at her invasive questions. 

“No, I do not.” 

“But are you looking?” She dared to ask more. 

“Love will come to me when it’s ready.” You replied, not wanting to talk too much especially as your ex was closing in on you. “And until then I’ll spend my evenings with a glass of wine and my cat.” 

The pair of you shared one last laugh before she bid you goodbye. This time you didn’t dare look back at him, your heart was pounding after those last questions, thankful she never touched on the subject of Neymar. You entered the large dimly light hall which was lined with numerous items which were to be bid off to you and other celebrities who were in attendance. 

Taking small elongated steps your eyes scanned every single item that was on display until your eyes fell on a large painting. The frame glistened as it kept the painted horse inside, allowing it to dance before your eyes yet never leave. The horse was rearing and with every blink, you could have sworn the animal grew in beauty. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A smooth voice you knew all too well floated through the air. 

“Ney…” You looked over at him as he stood beside you, his head turning to meet yours. 

“How are you y/n?” 

“You never come to things like this, your father always hated the idea of you spending tons of money at events like this.” You took in his features, his hair was different, last time the two of you shared a glance with one another he looked as if he was joining a boy band. He’d cut it shorter and he’d grown a slight beard, making him look older, more mature than he was back then. “Did you know I’d be here?”

“As welcoming as always y/n.” He gave you a warm smile. 

“Sorry I umm… It’s just been a while.” You looked away, your eyes focusing back on the painting before you. 

“Several years.” Neymar raised his hand, guiding your chin back to face him. “Too long y/n…”

Your heart melted at his words, it was no secret that you hung up on him and had been since you split. No man or anyone for that matter would ever be able to numb the pain of the pair of you falling apart. The tension between you both was building by the second, both of you high on the feeling of the two of you being back in the same room. 

“How’s Jareth?” He referenced the cat he gave you just before the two of you split. Only the week before the gala you posted a photo of you and the black cat when he was a kitten vs now for his birthday. He was getting old but he was one of the few things you still had to remind you of Neymar. Ney had watched you fall in love with the film Labrythn, especially David Bowie’s character, hence your cat's name. He knew you had to have your own little Jareth in the form of a cat. Since then you got Jareth a few siblings, naming all of them after fictional characters and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Neymar knew all their names.

“You know I never stopped watching your games.” His eyes softened at your words as you paused. His hands still lingered on your chin. “Do you know how hard it was to watch you get that injury in the world cup? Ney you nearly ended up paralysed-”

He smiled at your worry, the pair of you split just a few weeks before the World Cup, at first he just pushed it to the back of his mind to focus on the football but everything changed when he had his injury. When he was in the hospital all he could think of was how you used to take care of him every time he had the slightest graze or a career-threatening injury. He would often look over to the spare chair next to his bed and imagine your tired face making sure he was okay, much like you had done all those years ago. It was that day he realised how much he really did miss you and what you had wasn’t just some childish relationship. 

Neymar let his hand fall as he took a step towards you, his gaze never dropping from yours. “Why did we fall apart y/n?”

You scrunched your brows at him. “You know why, we fell apart, both our careers went in opposite directions and we never came back together, you moved on-”

“So did you.” He jumped in, eyeing you up as he spoke. 

“You could say that.” Shrugging you turned back to the portrait of the horse. You and Neymar both knew deep down that the pair of you never got over one another, in fact, the way the two of you were eyeing one another you wouldn’t be surprised if you just ripped off one another's clothes there and then. “But then so did you.”

His eyes followed yours as he became fixated on the painting before you both. “To an extent… I got used to you not being around, I never got used to the rest.” 

“Like?” 

He smirked as he spoke. He leant down, his lips hovering above your ear. “I never got used to the feeling of another woman around me, I always just wanted you… I never got used to the feeling of another woman's lips on me… you know y/n I got used to your presence not being beside me but I never got used to never feeling you again… do you know how many of your films and shows I’d watch and see you kissing another man and beg God to let me take his place?” 

Chills ran down your spine at his words before you replied. “You know you could have just messaged me, you know I’d let you come back into my life… with time.” 

“Time?” He whispered, a small laugh escaping his lips as he spoke. “I wasted too much time being away from you.”

“You can’t blame me for that -”

“When did I ever blame you, my love?” Neymar leant down, planting a kiss on your cheek from behind stepped away, his eyes glancing over at the painting you were once eyeing before he turned away and headed towards the hall for the event that was due to take place. 

Your heart dropped at the sight of him leaving. His words implied he would come back but with Neymar, you can never really be sure. Your eyes wandered back to the painting you once had your heart set on but not your heart was set back on him. The spark you once thought had died down had been ignited once again. The headlines would be slashing yours and his name as much as they could after your little interaction, but would you really go back to him? 

—

“I didn’t know he was here…” Your assistant who happened to be your best friend asked as she sat down beside you at your designated table. Her eyes glanced over to his table a mere few meters from yours before she spoke again. “Did you?”

“Of course not.” You set your glass down. “I wouldn’t have turned up if I knew.” 

That was a lie and you knew it. 

“Have you spoken to him?” Her gaze remained fixed on you. 

“Briefly -”

“And?”

“It was just small talk.” You lied again, this time taking a sip of the drink in front of you. “We haven’t spoken since we split and that was years ago. Just small talk and nothing more.”

She knew not to press on, after years of questioning you about Neymar she always knew deep down that the pair of you clearly had a small flame of love burning for one another but with the break-up being as public as it was she just kept her mouth shut. 

You could feel his eyes burning into you, wanting nothing more than to meet his soft gaze you flickered over to see if he was still watching but to your avail a booming voice caught everyone’s attention. “Welcome back everybody!” The host of the event announced. “It’s nice to see some familiar faces and some new ones.” His grey eyes wandered around the room. “Now we have some beautiful things up for auction tonight and I’m not getting any younger so let’s start, shall we?” A round of cheers danced through the room as items started to be dragged out onto the stage for the room to bid on.

The night dragged on, you laughed with your friends as you drank and watched everyone bid on their favourite items. You really had no interest in any of them other than the painting of the black horse from earlier. Before Neymar interrupted you your mind was imagining it proudly standing on the wall by your stairs. You’d been needing a piece to make the house feel more put together and that horse would frame everything perfectly. 

Despite the number of glasses before him, Neymar was only getting drunk on the sound of your laughter. He’d give anything to hear you laugh at his jokes one last time. Sure he knew he was pinned up on you when the two of you broke up but he never knew he’d crave you this badly after one short encounter. He wanted to leave, hating the idea of you being so close to him but he simply couldn’t have you, not yet anyway. His eyes shot up to the stage where he saw the large horse painting you were clearly in love with. He sparked up an idea… You’d either hate him for this idea or you’d love him for it but he was willing to take that chance. 

“And now… our final item is this beautiful hand-painted portrait of one of the world’s most stunning creatures. The bid will start at one thousand -” Before the man could even finish his sentence Neymar held his auction number in the air, giving a small nod to the man.

“I have one thousand do I hear two thousand?” 

Narrowing your eyes at your ex-boyfriend you held your own number up. He turned his head slightly, a smirk on his lips as he met the gaze of the man and held his own number up again. 

You knew what game he was playing and you weren’t going to let him win. 

The two of you went back and forth with each other, the pair of you never sharing a single thought about the amount of money you were spending on a simple painting but hey it was for charity so that doesn’t matter, right? 

“Oh come on y/n, you can’t bid that amount of money, it’s too much for that.” y/b/f complained, huffing in her seat at yours and Neymar’s childish antics. 

“He knows what he’s doing, he wants to get one more thing over me before the two of you actually call it quits.”

“So you’re telling me there’s still something there?” 

“y/b/f -” 

“Sold to the gentleman in black!” The announcer spoke, catching your attention. Whilst you and y/b/f had been arguing you’d forgotten to put your number up one last time meaning Neymar won the painting, it was all his. 

“Fucking prick.” You spat under your breath. The sudden lust you’d had now turned into loathing. He knew how much you wanted that painting and yet he still wouldn’t let you win, not even one last time. You finished up your drinks and left, wanting nothing more than to be with your cats, even if Neymar was responsible for buying the first one but unbeknown to you he had a plan, one that meant this wouldn’t be the last time he’d be seeing you. 

— 

A week had passed and there was no Neymar in sight unless you count the ongoing headlines about you both but that was something you refused to engage in. When you found yourself alone in bed you often wondered to his contact in your phone, debating if you should send him an angry text about him stealing the painting which clearly had your name written all over it but that would only feed into his ego. 

Currently, you were laying across your sofa, Jareth slowly falling into sleep on your chest as you read through your new script and let your hand smooth down his black fur. The small echo from the tv was the only noise in your house until the doorbell made poor Jareth jump in his spot. The elder cat let out a cry of a meow at the noise. Setting the script down you scooped the cat up and held him against your chest and crook of your neck, cooing at him as you opened the door. 

“It’s alright old man.” You kissed his head. “Probably just Jannet ordering some packages and isn’t in to collect them.” You referred to your neighbour as you met the eyes of a man you knew all too well. Neymar stood outside, a worried expression on his face which he tried to cover up with confidence. 

“y/n…”

“What do you want? And how do you know where I live?” Your brows furrowed at the sight of him. 

“y/b/f isn’t good at hiding secrets, you really need a better assistant.” 

“She does fine thank you.” Your words were filled with venom as you spoke. 

“You look, good old man.” He now turned his attention to the cat, a smile on his lips as he watched a familiar sight. “He looks good for his age.” 

“Because I take care of him.” Arching your brows at his words you leant against your doorframe. “Why are you here?” 

His smile dropped slightly at your words but his confidence attempted to shine through his demeanour. “I wanted to give you something.” He reached to the side and pulled out a large wrapped item from behind your wall. “I’m sorry -”

“For?”

“Everything. I fucked up. The pressure from this stupid sport should have never led me to losing you.” 

“And you think a wrapped gift is going to fix all of that?”

“No, but I hope it’s a start. I’ll fix this if you’ll work with me. We both know there’s something still there.” Your eyes met his hopeful ones. He had a point and if the two of you took things slowly and built on what you used to have you knew you could fall back into his arms, probably a lot faster than you wanted to admit. 

“Come in.” You held the door open wider for him, allowing him to drag the gift which was bigger than him through into your front room before closing the door. You placed Jareth on the counter before turning to watch Neymar place the gift on the floor, his eyes longing on yours as he rose and made his way over to you. 

“Please just open it.” 

You gave him a silent reply before shifting your body towards the gift. Neymar took his place where you once stood, next to Jareth whilst you kneeled down and slowly pulled the paper back to reveal the gift. All your anger filtered away when you were met with the eyes of the horse painting you once fell in love with at the gala. You started to connect the dots, he’d won that bid just as a way to see you again and make amends. Looking up your heart melted even further when you saw what he was doing.

When Jareth was a kitten Neymar used to cuddle him like he was a baby and rock him around like he was your child. Jareth used to always snuggle his head into Neymar’s side when he carried him like that and just like old times you watched as Jareth cuddled into Neymars side as he cooed him like a baby. 

“Ney…” 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like shit at the gala but I had to win it because I needed to see you again.”

“You know you could have just messaged me and asked to see me.” You stepped over the painting and walked towards him. 

“Not as romantic though, is it?” He smiled. “I know it’s been years but I want to try again. I never stopped loving you y/n, no matter who I was with I just wanted you. I still do. I know it’ll take time but I’m willing to wait a lifetime if it means I can spend even just a night with you.” 

“You always had a way with words Ney.” You leant up and kissed his cheek, your heart swelling at the sight of him and Jareth. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” His eyes were fueled with hope. 

“We get another cat.”

“I’ll buy you a whole island full of cats if it means you’ll give what we had a second chance.”

Just an incident - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Max n her like twins and r drivers for red bull, and both the twins hate Charles and same with Charles, Charles hates her because she always wins the race and loves to rub it on him especially, but slowly both reader and Charles start to build a crush on each other… in short an Enemies to lovers with Charles Leclerc ;) 

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, angst, Jos Verstappen, swearing, mentions of anxiety and injuries 

Word Count: 7.9K 

A/N: Thank you anon, this request is one of my favourites &lt;3

—

The Verstappens had always hated the Leclercs and the Leclercs had always hated the Verstappens. It was like the families of Romeo and Juliet only with highspeed cars and a crowd of millions discussing your every move. You’d known Charles for years, both you and your twin brother Max had been karting with him since you were kids and now the three of you were in Formula 1. Both you and Max drove for Redbull whilst Charles achieved his dream of driving for Ferarri but although the three of you had changed, the rivalry didn’t. 

Charles hated the way you gloated every single time you won, the look you gave him when the champagne hit your skin made his blood boil. He hated everything you did but couldn’t help but admire how you did it. You and your brother were already World Champions but Charles was still struggling. Anytime he even came close to being at the top the Redbull twins would knock him off his pedestal in a heartbeat. 

Today was the day of the Monaco GP, Charles’s home race and the one race he was yet to win. You were starting in P1, he was in P2 and Max was in P3. After one last quick discussion in the Redbull garage, you and Max wished one another luck before heading to the grid walk. As you dodged the interviewers your eyes fell onto a bright red race suit with a black horse planted firmly on the back. 

“Leclerc!” You called to the brunette who spun around to meet your gaze. “Looking forward to hearing the Dutch national anthem at your home race?” You smirked at the man as he joined your side. 

“Fancy making a bet on it?” His eyes shone at his own words. 

“Bet your life savings on me and you’ll be richer than a king.” You smirked at him as you two continued to walk. 

He laughed at your response. “I was going to suggest a different kind of bet.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“If I win, you must tell the interviewers that I’m your biggest competition.” 

“They’ll know I’m lying when I open my mouth.” You glanced over at him before speaking again. “What about if I win?”

“Then I’ll tell them you’re the best driver on the grid -”

“They already know that.”

“You know you’re just like your brother.” His patience lessened. “Full of yourself and arrogant.” 

“Well believe it or not we are related.”

“And full of sarcasm.”

“Maybe you should take notes, after all, we’re world champions and you aren’t.”

The brunette grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to his body. You felt his breath fan against your face as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re only World Champions because you cheat!”

“Cheat? Just because you can’t last around one corner without driving yourself into the wall -”

“Only because you shove me into them!” 

“Yeah?” You leaned in closer to him, your lips only inches away from one another. “Well, you better watch for my car today…”

“Or what?”

“Take your eyes off me for a second and you’ll be in the wall.” Pulling your arm from his grip you stormed off to your car, mumbling under your breath at the interaction. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Verstappen gets a good start but so does Leclerc! The other Verstappen… not so much…”

Charles had gotten off to a perfect start, enough to overtake Max and quickly made his way behind you, clearly you’d riled him up enough that he wanted to win his end of his shitty bet but everyone knew that Monaco wasn’t the easiest to overtake on. 

“Perfect start y/n, we’re staying with plan A for now. If anything changes we will let you know, Max is in P3 and Leclerc is just behind you.” The team radio sounded in your ear as you replied. 

“Thank you, guys.” Your eyes flickered to your mirrors, catching the red glimpse of the Ferrari, a smirk dawned on your face at the sight of him trying so hard but you couldn’t spend your life focusing on him, you had a race to win. 

“Box, box!” A yellow flag due to Lando making friends with the wall allowed you to pit with just ten laps to go. Charles stayed out which allowed him to claim P1. Most teams wouldn’t box at a time like this, especially with only a few laps to go on a track which was renowned to be difficult to pass on but Redbull and the Verstappen siblings were more than capable. 

Switching to the soft tyers you set back out to the track and join Charles. The pair of you had created some distance between the other drivers meaning it was just you two fighting for the top. “The safety car is leaving the track now, focus on getting past Leclerc.” Christian had taken the liberty of delivering the news to you.

“Understood.” You nodded in your car, despite them not being able to see you before suddenly speeding up as the safety car left your eyes. 

Charles didn’t set off as fast as you did but that didn’t matter to him, all he needed to do was defend with his life. It started off relatively easy for him, you backed off when things got too dangerous but you only had two laps to pass him and now you were getting desperate. It was no surprise to anyone that the Verstappens would get violent in order to win. It was in your blood and on the track no one was your friend, not even your own twin. 

Coming wheel to wheel with him the two of you turned into a corner but you refused to back off. Charles attempted to push you off the track but the Redbull was too fast. Pushing ahead you clipped Charles which sent him spinning into the wall leaving you in P1 and now your brother was able to claim to P2 whilst Charles didn’t even get to finish his home race. 

“y/n Verstappen wins the Monaco Grand Prix!” 

“Brilliant driving today y/n, really well done today. Take it all in, you deserve it.” Christian smiled as he spoke to you through the radio. 

“Thank you guys for today!” You replied. “Was Max P2?”

“Yes he was, he’s just behind you.” 

“And Charles? Is he okay?” 

“He’s back in the garage, he’s fine… pissed off but fine.” 

“Brilliant.” You pulled your car up to the pits, parking right before the P1 sign. Clambering out of your car you knelt down to kiss the front, it was something you’d started doing after Max gave you a lecture about ‘having your own celebration’. Max came running towards you, his arms open wide as he pulled you into a hug. 

“I’m so proud of you.” His smile was so bright anyone would’ve thought he’d won but the truth was you and Max were each other's biggest supporters. 

It was no secret that your Dad wanted the best for you both and if that meant treating you two like shit in order for you two to become the best in the world then that was something he’d happily do. Your Mum knew you both had to live with your Dad in order to be in Formula 1 and without her, the two of you no longer had an escape from him. Max was your escape and you were his.  

“Thank you.” You pulled away from your brother as you headed to be weighed and interviewed. Just as you were about to be weighed a tall bundle of red stormed towards you. 

“You fucking cheat!” Charles screamed at the top of his lungs. When he got close enough he pushed you back lightly as he towered over you. “Typical Verstappen, always cheating your way to the top!” Before you could even utter a word Max grabbed Charles by his race suit and dragged him away. 

“Don’t you dare touch my sister.” He didn’t yell, only spoke in a harsh tone. A tone which Charles knew not to underestimate. “You even look at her with any ill intent I’ll do more than put you into a wall.” Max shoved Charles back before he returned to where you were now finishing up your last interview before you headed to your podium. “Are you okay?” He draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side as he spoke. 

“Yeah I’m fine, he’s just pissed off.”

“Doesn’t mean he can shove you and speak to you like that.” 

“I know.” You gave Max a small smile. “I’ll talk to him after -”

“No, you won’t.” 

“Max I -”

“That cunt isn’t going anywhere near you, even in a car and especially not on a podium.” He smiled back, you forced a smile at his words. Despite how much you and Charles hated one another you felt the need to speak to him, even if Max wouldn’t approve. 

—

You’d spent the last five minutes attempting to zip your dress up but to no avail you were left unsuccessful. After Redbull’s podium you, your brother and a few other drivers decided to head to a club to celebrate. It was normal that a lot of drivers would spend the evening together after a race, a few would rarely attend but the Verstappens were always at the party scene. 

Clutching the front of the dress you waltzed over to your phone, ready to dial Max or your sister for help when a knock at the door grabbed your attention. Thinking it was Max you spoke aloud as you opened the door. “Thank fuck you’re here Max, I can’t get my dress zipped up -” You jumped out of your skin when your eyes met the mesmerising ones of Charles Leclerc. He stood before you with his shirt hanging over his shoulder, drenched in sweat. Your eyes didn’t want to wander (liar) but they did. It was no secret that Charles was beautiful and as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny that the man looked as if he was sent down from the Gods themselves. 

“Is there a reason you’re at my door shirtless?”

“I went on a run.” 

“And you didn’t think to change?”

“Why is it distracting you?” His cockiness began to show. 

“You’re not Gasly so we should be fine.” You mirrored his attitude before silence fell upon you both.

“Sorry, I should’ve messaged and asked if you were free.” He breathlessly spoke. “Can I come in?” You nodded, holding your dress closer to your chest as you let the man in before quickly shutting the door. “Do you need help with that?” He gave a light smile as he nodded towards your situation.

“Please.” Your voice was quiet as he threw his shirt on your bed and moved behind you. He effortlessly moved your hair onto your shoulder so he could focus on your zip. His hands delicately moved down your back, touching your skin which made you jump slightly at the sudden skin-on-skin contact. 

“It’s just me…” His breath hit your neck as he spoke. 

“The same man that shoved me after the race today-”

“The same woman who shoved me into the wall on the track.” 

You laughed lightly at his response. “Touche Leclerc.” 

Charles treated you like you were priceless, his hands gently touched you as he slowly zipped up your dress. The heat from his body could be felt on your skin which only made your mind run, God who wouldn’t want him? “It’s a nice colour.” Referencing the red of the dress he moved your hair back off your shoulder before stepping back. “I need to talk to you.” Sitting on your bed he looked up at you whilst you smoothed your dress down. “I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. I was pissed off because of what happened and I should’ve spoken to you about it privately.” 

You nodded at his words before taking a step towards him. “I shouldn’t have shoved you off the track like that-” 

“I don’t blame you for that.” He cut you off. “I would’ve done the same…” He smiled. “And I have done that before.”

You thought back to the Grand Prix from Spa two seasons ago. You saw a gap and you went for it but Charles wasn’t letting you get pole that easily. He sent you into the barrier and to the local hospital for a suspected head injury. 

“At least I didn’t send you to the hospital.” 

“Yet.” He stood up as he spoke, the pair of you inches apart but this time he was looking down at you. “I’m sorry again Verstappen.” He stepped aside, heading towards your door. 

“Are you not coming out tonight?” You quickly asked him. 

“I’d rather not end up dead when Max sees me.” 

“He’ll get over it.” 

“Will you?” 

“I still hate you, Leclerc.” You smirked as the words left your mouth. He mirrored your expression.  

“Feelings mutual…” Opening the door he went to leave but stopped himself in your doorway. “You look good in red.” His eyes scanned your body before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in your room, the only reminder of his presence was his lingering touch and his shirt he'd left on your bed. 

—

Azerbaijan was the race after Monaco and yet again you’d claimed P1 whilst Charles hadn’t even made pole. You watched him yell at those in the garages and along the pit wall who were evidently at fault for Ferarri's horrific strategy. Clearly feeling a pair of eyes on himself he scanned the crowd until his eyes met yours, your smug grin as you kissed our trophy sent him over the edge. He stormed out of the garages and made his way back to the hotel as fast as he could, not even caring how his PR team would react to him ignoring the interviewers patiently waiting for his thoughts. 

Back at the hotel once the celebrations had died down you grabbed the shirt he’d left in your room back in Monaco. Ironically it was a Ferarri shirt so you had to hide it with your life, if Max had seen it then you wouldn’t have made it to Azerbaijan alive. It had been washed, you couldn’t have it laying around your house drenched in sweat. 

When you knocked on his door a sudden shout made you question if going to his room at this time was a good idea. “Carlos I said I’m fine!” 

“It’s not Carlos.” You replied before his door swung open. Without saying a word he looked down the hallways, making sure no one was looking before he pulled you against his chest and inside of his room. “Fucking hell Charles!” Your arms wrapped around his neck as you steadied yourself against him. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” With his hands on your waist, he steadied you himself as he pulled back slightly to look down at you. 

“I came to give you your shirt back-”

“And you thought now was a good time?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Maybe because I stormed off and now every journalist in this building is attempting to hunt me down for a comment and if they see you coming into my room with my shirt they’ll lose their minds!” 

“Relax there was no one outside.” 

“For now! They’ve been knocking on the door all night.” Slumping down on his bed he ran his hands through his hair. “Why come tonight? Wanted to gloat about winning again?” 

You shrugged, throwing his shirt towards him. “I don’t need to gloat when I know you think about me every single day.” 

“So full of yourself Verstappen.” 

“Hard not to be when you’re one of the best in the world.” Charles rolled his eyes at your words. 

“You aren’t exactly one of the greats-”

“Yet.” You cut him off, taking a step closer to him. “I’m no Schumacher but I’m up there, after all, I was the youngest person to ever win a world championship.” 

“So?” 

“So I’m in control of my racing future, something you clearly don’t have a grip on.” 

“Really?” Charles smirked as he parted his legs, leaning forward he grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you into him. He fell back on the bed with you falling on top of him, his hands now moving to your waist, holding you in place. 

“Charles?” You tried to move back but his grip wouldn’t let you. “What the hell was that for?” 

“You think you have control of things but everything can change in a heartbeat.” 

“And you wanted to prove that to me by pulling me on top of you?” 

“Worked didn’t it?”

“It was stupid… like your strategy today.” His smirk dropped at your words, and using his grip on you he flipped the two of you over. 

Looking down at you he spoke. “As if I have any control over that.” 

“But you do.” 

He scrunched his face up at your words. “Hardly-” 

“You told me that you think you have control of things but everything can change in a heartbeat, Ferrari thinks they’re in control of things but you can change it in a heartbeat. Go against them-” 

“And what if it goes wrong?”

“But what if it goes right?” 

You had a point, a point that Charles was thinking very seriously about. If he went against Fearri and won it would prove to them that he could be trusted to make the decisions that Ferarri continued to get wrong. If he got it wrong then he could at least live with the fact that he tried and clearly both he and Ferrari needed to work on things. 

“Lost in thought Leclerc?”

“When you aren’t being a smug prick you actually speak sense.”

“I’ve always spoken sense Leclerc, you just never listen.” 

“Clearly.” His eyes searched yours for a second too long. 

He knew he shouldn’t think about you like he was but after seeing you in the dress and now laying beneath him it was hard not to think about the Verstappen girl as his. Despite the hatred towards you he couldn’t help but think about you by his side. You were stunning and every single driver had tried it on with you well… they tried until Max began to linger around more than he normally did. It was clear to Charles that Max was overprotective when it came to his twin and Charles couldn’t blame him. Constant fliting from every single driver and not to mention interviewers who loved to ask you sexist questions in the hope of a reaction they could use to paint you in a bad light meant Max became your shadow. 

“Mr Leclerc?” A loud voice and hushed whispers sounded from outside his room. 

“There’s still time for an interview!” Another voice called out. 

“Oh just fuck off…” His head fell against your chest as he took a deep breath. “You do realise that if they’re going to camp outside my room until the early hours of the morning for a story then you can’t leave.” He raised his head to meet your eyes again. 

“As long as you take the chair and I’ll have the bed.” A teasing grin spread across your lips as you searched his eyes. 

“Deal.” 

Charles had given you one of his shirts to sleep in and much to your disgust it has his name printed on the back and the Ferarri logo printed on the front. He sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers, his phone in his hand waiting to get a photo of the Redbull stargirl in his shirt with his name on her back. 

“It’s hideous.” You called out to him from his bathroom. 

“Oh come on y/n you don’t look that bad, I know you’re related to Max but-” You swung the door open, your eyes burning into his smiley expression. “Turn around.” His smile grew as you turned around. Raising his phone he took a quick picture before holding it up to you. “Well, that’s my new lock screen sorted.” If looks could kill Charles would be buried six feet under. 

“Delete that!” You jumped forward, straddling him in an attempt to grab his phone. His free hand fell to your waist, his eyes flickered down as he watched his shirt ride up your body. You were going to be the death of him. 

“I’ll make you a deal Verstappen.” 

“Go on.” 

“Let me pass in Canada and I’ll delete it.”

“If I let you pass you have to wear a Redbull shirt with my name on the back.” 

“Deal.” You gave him a quick glance before moving off your rival and sat in the chair he was meant to sleep in. 

“So if I let you pass are you going to challenge Ferarri and their shit strategies?” 

“You’ve convinced me you know.” He moved his duvet to cover his slight problem, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you but that was something to tease him for another night. “It might all go wrong but it might all go right.”

“Exactly and you didn’t get that seat by following the rules.”

He laughed at your words. “You sound like my Dad.”

“He’d be so proud of you Charles.” 

You’d grown up with Charles and therefore knew his Dad. The day he passed you’d never seen someone so broken. Charles did his best to keep himself together for his family but you saw straight through him. You caught him sobbing in the garages and without a thought, you knelt down beside him and wrapped your arms around him and let him cry into your chest for however long he needed. You two didn’t utter a word during the interaction and you never spoke about it after.

His eyes softened at your words, his gaze never leaving yours. “Thank you, I hope so.”

“He would be, never doubt that Leclerc.”

“I didn’t know you could be so kind.” Smirking he spoke again. “Thought the Verstappens were stone cold.”

“Liar.” You matched his facial expressions.

“How’s your Dad? Still as brutal as he once was?” Charles didn’t even know half of it, sure he’d heard rumours but he never knew the truth about yours and Max’s childhood.

“Of course, he never changes.” Charles watched as your eyes left his gaze and fell to the floor. He watched as you tugged at the hem of his shirt before you spoke again. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I’d gone to live with my Mum and Victoria but I guess I wouldn’t be here now.”

“Do you miss her?”

“All the time. The problem is me and Max travel all the time for work, Victoria has her own life and when my Dad is at the races my Mum won’t turn up.” He nodded, unsure of what to say but you beat him to it. “But I have Max and without him, I’d be lost.”

“You’re lucky you have one another.”

“So are you and your brothers, especially Arthur. One day you’ll be racing alongside one another.” 

“My Mum would hate it.”

“Why?”

“She’d be worried that we’d fall out, too busy fighting one another on the track and off the track.”

“Maybe if he joins Ferarri the two of you can bond over how shit the cars are.” 

He laughed at your statement, throwing his head back as he shifted in his spot. “Do you and Max ever argue over the races?”

“More as kids but now that we’re in F1 we never argue, it’s a rarity if we do. You and Arthur will be fine.” 

His smile never faded. “I hope so. We’ve all come a long way from karting.”

“Who would’ve thought?” 

“Thought you would’ve got bored of overtaking all us lads.” His smile turned to a smirk. 

“I’ll never get bored of overtaking you, Leclerc.” 

The pair of you spent the night talking over your childhoods, spending hours on end reminiscing the karting days and the more recent races. In this moment anyone would’ve thought the two of you had been friends for years, the way you two laughed with one another made you wonder why the pair of you had ever been as rude to one another as you once were. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

Hours passed and Charles watched as you fell asleep in the hotel chair. A soft smile spread across his lips as he gently picked you up bridal style, his smile growing as he watched your head fall against his chest. He slowly lowered you down onto the mattress before joining you. Pulling the duvet across yours and his body he then wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. 

“If only you weren’t Max’s sister.” He muttered before falling asleep beside you. 

—

Canada was your next race and Charles didn’t lie when he said he was going to take your advice. You kept your end of the deal up and let him pass but that didn’t mean you’d let him win. In the end, you’d managed to overtake him and finished in P1 and Charles was right behind you in P2. The pair of you couldn’t stop smiling at one another whilst you shared one of many podiums together. The interaction was something Max couldn’t keep his eyes off of, one minute you were sending Charles into a barrier and the next, the pair of you were dousing one another in champagne. 

“God I hate this colour!” Charles yelled from your hotel bathroom. 

“Navy looks good on everyone-”

“Not me.” He stood before you in your room, holding up his end of the deal he was wearing a shirt with your name on the back. 

“Show me the back.” The brunette reluctantly turned around. Much like he’d done with you, you took a picture of him. “My name looks good on you.”

“Mine looked better on yours.” He smirked back at you before the two of you burst into laughter but the happiness between you both didn’t last long.

Silverstone was arguably one of your favourite tracks, Max always seemed to struggle but you thrived on the historic track. Your words stayed in your rival's mind so much so that Charles won the race with you trailing in P2. P2 was a result any parent would be proud of for their child, especially in a sport as competitive as Formula 1. Max had to retire the car after three laps due to an engine failure so your Dad was already in a shitty mood and his daughter losing out to her rival had tipped him over the edge. 

Your team pulled you into large hugs, especially Christian who congratulated you with open arms but Jos didn’t even look at you. You tried to not let his attitude get to you but the memories of your childhood swarmed your head. Charles took his opportunity and poured his bottle of champagne down your neck which made you spin around and drench him in yours. The sight only angered Jos even more. He couldn’t believe you were acting like this after coming second and especially with Charles Leclerc.

After your interviews, Christian informed you that Jos wanted to see you in the garage. Brilliant. With a deep breath, you kept your head down and walked into the Redbull garage. “Dad? You wanted to see me?” 

He was leaning against your car, closely inspecting the machine before him. “What was that?”

“What was what?” 

“The race? P2? Really y/n?” 

“Dad I was still on the podium-”

“Not at the top you weren’t!” His voice grew. 

“Charles was the only driver that beat me, it was a close race… the car-”

“Stop blaming the car! It was your lack of skill-”

“My lack of skill? I’m a world champion I have enough skill-”

“Evidently not! You can’t even beat a man who isn’t even a world champion!” As he screamed he let his fist hit collide with a set of tools set beside you both. The sudden loud noise made you jump but that didn’t stop Jos. “You don’t become a world champion by coming in second, is Leclerc a world champion? No, he’s not, you wanna know why?” Jos stepped closer, his voice growing. “Because he’s a shit driver, he’s a pussy who can’t even make a decision, he doesn’t know whether to hit a wall or pit!”

“He’s a good driver…” Your voice was suddenly low. 

“What did you say?” Jos taunted.

“He’s a good driver…” 

“A good driver?” Your Dad scoffed. “If he’s your definition of a good driver then it’s no wonder why you didn’t win today.”

“Dad I’m still on track to win the championship this year, P2 isn’t a bad result.” 

“I didn’t raise you to come second, I raised you to win. If you can’t do that maybe you should rethink your career.” 

“Dad please-”

“Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?” 

“Dad this isn’t about you-”

“You’re so selfish y/n. Do you think I wanted to get my daughter into F1? I always knew Max would be better than you. You’re lucky he has the talent he does because without it you wouldn’t be here and you know it.” He grabbed a tool and threw it towards the car, letting it bounce off close to you, yet again you jumped at his actions but this time tears threatened to spill. “You’re lucky that car is decent. You made me look like an idiot today and so did your brother, he was just lucky it was the car and not his lack of skill.” Jos stormed out of the garage, leaving you alone to sob your heart out. 

Your breathing started to quicken and the tears started to spill down your cheeks. Anytime Jos snapped at either you and Max the pair of you would be there for one another but Max was nowhere to be seen. He was more than likely hiding away from Jos in his room. Your hands clutched the side of the car as you attempted to steady your breathing but nothing was working, your body was shaking with fear as a panic attack swarmed your body but unbeknown to you Charles had been listening in the whole time.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Charles pulled you from the car and into his arms, you fell into his touch as the two of you slumped against the wall, falling to the floor as he pulled you close. “Shh, don’t cry… y/n you’re safe.” His hands cupped your face, tilting your head to look up at his. His thumbs quickly swiped away your tears as you continued to cry. “He can’t hurt you, I promise you I won’t let him ever do that again…”

“I’m sorry…” Your tears damped his hands. 

“What are you apologising for?”

“I- I don’t know…” Your head fell against his chest, your breathing speeding up yet again. 

“y/n please listen to me… I need you to listen… name three things you can see.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed at his question. 

“Trust me, name three things you can see.”

“Umm… you, the car and uh mechanic tools.”

“Three things you can smell.”

“Champagne, metal… you know from the cars… burnt rubber.” Your body had stopped shaking and your breathing was slowing down. 

“Three things you can feel.”

“You… the champagne still on my suit… umm… my race suit?”

He looked down at you, a smile on his lips as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Perfect.”

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Stopped the panic attack, didn’t it?” You hadn’t even realised that you’d stopped shaking and your tears had slowed, your body was closer to his as he spoke. “When my Dad died I couldn’t stop getting panic attacks and my Mum would always ask me those questions and it would always work.” You smiled into his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it.”

“Why were you outside?” Pulling away from his chest you looked up at him. 

“I wanted to thank you and well… tell you something.”

“Thank me for what?”

“What you said to me weeks ago, about taking control. I did and I finally won a race this season.”

“Told you.”

“Who knows, maybe if we’d been caught together sooner I could’ve beaten you to a world championship.”

“You’re still driving a Ferarri Leclerc.”

“Maybe I’ll join Redbull one day.”

“You think you could take Max’s seat?”

“Was more thinking of your seat.” His face lit up after seeing you break into a smile. 

“Dream on Leclerc, you’ve got a better chance of winning a championship with Ferarri.” You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed at your words. “Charles?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you want to tell me?” 

He hesitated and now it looked as if he was the one who was going to break into a panic attack. “I’m sorry if this is rash or I’ve read everything wrong but I can’t keep this to myself anymore, y/n I like you and never in my life did I ever think I’d ever fall for my childhood rival, especially a Verstappen but that night we spent together when we were hiding from the press just felt different. Everything from the conversation to the way you fell asleep on my chest just felt right. I know you may not feel the same but even if you don’t I need to tell you, even if it means your brother will kill me… I-” 

Your hands cupped his jaw before putting your lips on his. Charles didn’t hesitate to pull you onto his lap, deepening the kiss as his hands trailed down your race suit. Your hands raked through his hair, tugging on his locks which made him groan into the kiss. In that moment everything bad that had happened to you that day had disappeared. Eventually, you both pulled back, breathlessly looking into one another's eyes. 

“Why did you have to be a Leclerc?” You smiled at him. 

“And why did you have to be a Verstappen?” 

—

That was two years ago. Two years ago the two of you had decided to make it official and two years were spent hiding it from Max and the rest of the world. Today was the first race of the season and you and Charles were spending the time you had left before having to pretend to hate one another. Your head was resting on his chest, your nails tracing his skin whilst his hands made their way through your hair. 

“How are you feeling about this season?” You moved your head to look up at him. 

“Confident enough to beat you.” He smirked down, his hands moving your hair from your face. “Can’t let you win a fourth championship, can I?” Last season you’d won and Charles had come second, Max had won the year before and Redbull had claimed the constructors championship for the sixth year in a row. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself already Leclerc, it’s only the first race.”

“Every race counts Verstappen.” 

He leant down and planted his lips onto yours, his hands moving to cup your jaw whilst the other grabbed your hip and moved you to straddle him. He tugged at your bottom lip which made you moan at his actions. The hand once cupping your jaw trailed down your chest and made its way underneath your shirt. Pushing your shirt higher up he moved away from the kiss and pulled your shirt off your body, leaving you in just your underwear before him. His hands reached up to your boobs, cupping them and smirking as you let out a soft moan. His head turned to look at the clock beside his bed. 

“We’ve got time.” 

“If it’s anything like your driving we’ll be late.” Your flushed face smirked at your own words. Rolling his eyes Charles flipped the two of you over as he replied. 

“Shut up y/n.” His lips connected with yours as the two of you shared one last moment with one another before having to face the cameras. 

Bahrain was always a spectacle. Being the first race of the season meant more eyes than ever before were on you. The race was about to be underway, Charles was starting at the front, you were in P2 and Max was in P3. As you climbed into your car Charles turned his head and winked although his wink was more like a forced heavy blink. No matter how many times he did the action it always made you smile. Making sure no one was looking he quickly mouthed ‘I love you’ before getting in the car. You mouthed back to him, a smile on your face before putting your helmet on and getting into the car. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Verstappen gets a good start but Leclerc is holding off as best he can!” You may be his girlfriend but Charles would never let you pass easily but you didn’t need his kindness. After a few laps, you were able to overtake Charles, he was still firmly behind. 

After thirty laps you decided to pit before coming out behind your boyfriend. It didn’t take long for your tyres to warm up and within a few laps, you’d overtaken your boyfriend again. Just like the past few seasons, Redbull had completely dominated the tracks and now you were slowly coming up behind Pierre Gasly. Gasly had been given the instructions to let you pass and reluctantly he did so. As the Frenchman reluctantly moved out of the way he suddenly lost control of his car as he went around a corner, his car spun and hit yours and driving at hundreds of miles an hour, your car went flying into one of the barriers. 

The second your car collided with a barrier and Gasly spun out a red flag was immediately deployed on the track. “y/n are you okay?” You heard the familiar voice of Christian through your radio. Your whole body screamed in pain as you attempted to leave the car but it was too much. Your head fell back as you took deep breaths, trying to steady yourself when a sudden surge of heat started to warm your body. 

“Shit.” You mumbled and suddenly instincts kicked in. Despite the surge of pain you quickly scrambled to get yourself out of the car. Just as you started to climb out your head began to spin and before you knew it, everything went black. 

Meanwhile, Charles was slowly driving up to the scene before him. “Red flag, red flag, go slow and return to the pits.” His radio filled his ears. 

“What’s happened?”

“Verstappen and Gasly had an incident, both cars are out.”

“Are they okay?” 

“Gasly is out, no word from Verstappen yet.”

As the words filled his head Charles looked at the sight before him. A Redbull car clearly displaying your number on the side was being swarmed in flames. He didn’t think for a second. Charles stopped his car and quickly jumped out, little did he know your brother was following suit. The pair of them didn’t get far before being stopped by the stewards who begged them to return to their cars and head back to the pits. 

An ambulance quickly arrived and Charles and Max watched you being stretched onto the vehicle before being taken to a nearby hospital. “Why did you run out?” Max asked as he turned on his heel and returned to his car. 

A teary-eyed Charles looked at your brother, his breathing getting worse as he knew he had to tell Max what was really going on. “Max I’m sorry… we should’ve told you-”

“Told me what?” His patience had left his body. “Fucking hell spit it out, Leclerc!” 

“I love her Max! We’ve been together for two years and now she’s in a fucking ambulance and I don’t know if she’s okay… fuck what if she’s seriously hurt?” His hands ran through his hair as tears started to fall down his cheeks, panic taking over. 

At this moment Max wanted to rip him limb from limb. He wanted Charles to be in the back of that ambulance not you but the sight of him breaking down into tears and on the verge of a panic attack he couldn’t even let those thoughts come to fruition. If what he said was true and the two of you were together then it was clear he cared for you. No sane person would ditch their car and run out onto a track with cars driving fast enough to kill someone in an instant unless they really cared for them. Max took a step forward and pulled Charles in for a hug. Charles didn’t care if he was taken off guard by Max’s actions, he wrapped his arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. 

“She’ll be okay,” Max spoke. “Let's get back to the pits and I’ll drive us to the hospital.” Your boyfriend nodded as he pulled away before he and your brother made their way back to the pits.

—

“Hello Miss Verstappen I’m Doctor Sharp.” You’d just climbed back into your race suit after some routine checks as a tall blonde woman began speaking to you. “You’re results from the scan are normal, we suspect you fainted due to the crash impact and the panic.”

“So I’m okay?” You asked. 

“You are.” She smiled. “I’ve forwarded the information to your race principal as your brother didn’t return my calls.”

“Who’s winning the race?” 

She laughed at your words. “You could have received a very serious head injury yet all you can think of is Formula 1? Well Russell is leading, Piastri is running P2 and Hamilton is in P3.” 

“You a fan of F1?” 

“I am which is why I was rather surprised to see you in here, never did I think a Verstappen would crash out.” You laughed gently at her words. 

“We all have our off days.” 

“We do indeed Miss Verstappen.” She handed you some medication. “There are some strong painkillers for you. Take them twice a day, I recommend morning and evening to help you through the day and sleep. The pain should subside in a couple of days but you have a month's supply in there. Any therapy you do for your skin should be done more often now, hot baths or showers will be your best friend for a while.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I have requested for a taxi to take you home or someone to come pick you. Again, I called your brother but I’ve had no reply-” 

“y/n!” Max’s voice cut the doctor off. Both he and Charles swung the doors open and sprinted to your bedside. “Is she okay?” Max asked the woman by your side. 

“She’s fine, she just took a big knock. You’re lucky you have fireproof suits otherwise the outcome would have been a lot worse.” She now turned to you. “You can come home with them, just tell reception when you leave. I’ll leave you to it.” She winked before leaving you with your brother and boyfriend.

“I’m going to fucking kill Gasly, absolute twat. Wasn’t that hard to let you through!” Max spat as he came to your side. 

“Max it was a mistake-”

“A mistake that could’ve cost your life!” 

“But it didn’t, I’m fine. It’s not like he meant it.” Your eyes flickered over to Charles who was standing watching the two of you with tears in his eyes. “Hello, Charles.” You wondered how he’d managed to travel with your brother without Max killing and questioning his actions. 

“Hi, y/n…” His voice broke as he spoke. 

“I know by the way.” Max grabbed your attention. “He told me.” 

“Told you what?” 

“You must’ve hit your head if you can’t remember that he’s your boyfriend.” Max smiled. “Look we’ll talk about it later but just know this as long as you’re happy then that’s all I care about but this doesn’t mean I like him.” 

Your hand fell on top of Max’s. “Thank you.” You fell into his chest, the two of you embracing in a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. I knew you would be.” He laughed slightly as he pulled back. “I’ll leave you two, I’m just going to call Mum and Dad and let them know you’re okay.” He backed off to the door. “Try anything and I’ll put you through the wall.” Max glared at Charles before leaving the room. 

Within seconds Charles had his lips pressed onto yours, his hands cupping your jaw as he savoured every single second of the kiss. “He might be my best friend but I’m going to kill Gasly too.” You both smiled at his words. “How are you, my love?”

“My body aches but I’m fine, she’s given me medication so I should be okay.” 

“Thank God.” He planted another short kiss on your lips. “Look, I’m sorry that I told Max. It wasn’t my place and we should’ve told him together but seeing the fire and you in the ambulance I just couldn’t control my emotions, he asked why I just got out of my car and I told him. I’m sorry-”

“Charles you don’t need to apologise. I need to speak to Max about it. I shouldn’t have left it 2 years to tell my brother… my Dad is going to kill me.”

“For what part? The race or dating me?” 

“Both.” Your smile returned to your lips. 

“I won’t let him. He won’t ever raise his voice to you again.”

“My knight in shining armour.” You both broke into smiles before Charles kissed you once more. 

Max would never approve of the idea of you and Charles dating but it was something he would slowly warm up to although he’d never let Charles win whether he was your boyfriend or not and neither would you. He could ask you to marry him and you’d still make sure he’d never win as long as you were on the track. Your Mum was over the moon and loved Charles like he was one of her, your Dad on the other hand acted like you’d just thrown your career down the drain. The fans… well… they were ecstatic. 

---

Buy me a coffee <3

hiii 🫶🏻 loved the ‘Best friends' brother’ is amazing can we get a part 2 please

Hey, thank you so much <3 Part 2 is up now, you can read it here, enjoy <3

Loved the rivals with benefits fic!! It was amazing!! Love your writing style too. Can't wait for part 2❤❤

Thank you so much <3 The second part is finally here! You can read it here, enjoy <3

North London Forever - Martin Ødegaard x reader

Martin Ødegaard x female!reader

Summary: Being Antonio Conte's daughter had its perks, one being you spent most of your time with footballers many dreamed to see but you couldn’t help but be drawn towards the other side of North London, more specifically a blonde midfielder. Besides, who didn’t enjoy a little bit of rivalry? 

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, angst, swearing

Word Count: 4K

—

It all started back in 2021 when Arsenal beat Tottenham 3-1 at home after their rough start to the Premier League. You were there to support your Dad but a certain someone caught your attention. That man was Martin Odegaard. You knew you shouldn’t have looked at him the way you did, especially with all the cameras around and not to mention he played for Tottenham's biggest rivals and the team your Dad currently hated the most… Arsenal. You shoved the thought of Martin Odegaard to the back of your mind but it was like fate wanted the two of you to meet. 

That night your friends asked you to join them on a night out and although you wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with your Dad something told you to go out with them. When you reached one of the many clubs they’d planned to take you to that night your eyes fell on a familiar sight. Martin and a few other Arsenal players were sat in a booth, celebrating one of the biggest wins of the season. Your eyes met and he couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction to seeing him. His ego swelled beyond belief knowing he’d caught the eye of his rivals manager's daughter. 

The rest was history. He’d made his move that night, slipping in a small dig towards your father due to the win he was currently celebrating but that only made the two of you grow closer. You spent the night with him and honestly thought that would be the end until he asked to take you on a date. You knew it would be a bad idea, not because Martin wasn’t suited for you but because you knew your father would lose his shit when he found out but you didn’t care. You had been dating the Arsenal midfielder behind your father's back for a year.

The World Cup was finally upon everyone. Despite having some of the world's most talented players Norway didn’t make it to the competition but that meant you would have more time to spend with Martin. It also gave him time to finally take a break from football without the worry of having to rush home for training or a game. Your Dad had also decided to go back to Italy for a break, you’d been invited but you politely declined, your home was only a few streets away and certainly wasn’t from Italy. 

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Your Dad asked, counting his luggage as he made sure he had everything. 

“I’m not a child.” You smiled at him. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I will fly back in a heartbeat if you need me to, all you need to do is call me.”

“I’m sure I will be fine, say hello to the rest of the family for me.” 

“You know they would prefer it if you were coming too.” He gave you a pitiful look as he pushed his bags aside. “You sure you’ll be okay -”

“Dad I will be fine.” You narrowed your gaze at him with a small smile on your face. “If anything happens or I change my mind I will call you or jump on the next flight to Italy.” You know that was a lie but it would put his mind at ease. “And the Christmas tree will be up when you get home.”

“Blue and white remember.” He arched his brows. 

“I remember.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Martin’s reaction when he finds out you’d have to decorate the tree in Spurs colours. 

You’d planned to decorate the tree with Martin, it wasn’t your first Christmas with him and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. Last year Martin invited you to his to decorate his tree which in North London fashion happened to be decorated in red and white. The pair of you made Christmas cookies with one another whilst you danced to Christmas music. Everything with him was perfect, you just wished you could’ve shared the actual day with him. 

“I will be back in two weeks.” He made his way over to you, holding his arms out for a hug. You complied, walking towards him and falling into the hug. “Please don’t burn the house down.” 

Laughing at his words you pulled back. “I won’t, I promise.” 

Conte smiled at you as he gathered his bags, heading out to the car. Whilst he was packing his things into the vehicle you quickly pulled out your phone to text Martin. 

You: He’s leaving now x

Martin: I’ll get my things and leave in 5 x

You: Drive safely please x

Martin: Always love x 

“Who are you texting?” Your Dad’s voice snatched your attention. He arched his brows at you, his face clearly interested in the wide smile you had on your face as you looked at your phone.

“No one.” You lied. “I was just checking the time.”

“And smiling like an idiot at it?” 

“What can I say, I get time away from you I’ll always be happy at that.” You gave him a smirk which broke into a small laugh. He followed suit, knowing you never meant that but he also knew you were lying about your reasons but he knew better than to press on. 

“I will text you when I’m at the airport and when I’ve landed.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.” He blew a kiss to you as he got into the car, sending you a small wave as he left the house and headed back to Italy.

You’d always been close to your Dad, the love of football you both shared kept the bond alive. You’d travelled the world with him, watching him manage teams in different leagues and now you were back in London with him, the only change was you didn’t live in West London but North London. You’d still spoken to some of the old Chelsea lads your Dad managed but they didn’t exactly end on a good note so much like Martin, that was kept rather quiet.

Being so close to one another only added to your pain in keeping your relationship with Martin quiet. The pair of you never hid anything from one another and even if you tried it would always come to light a few days but not this secret. It was arguably the most challenging thing you’d ever done, having to lie to him for a year straight. One day he’d find out, you just needed to find a good time to tell him.

You never had to wait long for Martin to drive to yours after all, he was only a few streets away. That was an added benefit of dating him although you always had to keep an eye out for any Spurs players, god forbid one of them spotted you two together. Opening the door you were met with a wide grin and stunning blue eyes which always made you melt. You looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding a bunch of red roses. 

“Cliché I know but red is better than white unless it’s on an Arsenal kit.” He winked before planting a kiss on your forehead. Taking the flowers from him you moved aside, letting him into your home. It was rare Martin ever got to be around for more than a few hours as your Dad would always be home or if the house was free Martin would be playing a match somewhere in Europe. 

“You’re going to hate the colour my Dad wants the tree this year then.” Martin rolled his eyes at your words. 

“You can decorate the tree then.” He gave you a grin. “I’ll be watching replays of our greatest wins against Tottenham.” You lightly shoved the boy as you shut the door, following his expression and grinning up at him. 

“Shut up you’re helping.” You headed towards the kitchen to find a vase to put your flowers in with Martin trailing behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling your back into his chest. He started to pepper you with light kisses on your neck, tightening his grip on your waist as you melted into his touch. 

“When are you going to tell him?” He suddenly asked, turning you around to face him. 

“I need to tell him soon it’s been a year.” Your voice dropped at your own words. “Christmas?”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“Happiest day of the year for most people, maybe it’ll be ours too.”

“You think he’ll let you come to the Emirates on boxing day to watch me play West Ham?”

“Don’t get too hopeful Ødegaard.” The pair of you shared another smile. “I’ll tell him when he gets home from Italy, that way he’d got time to process the whole thing and the two of you won’t go up against one another in a match anytime soon.” 

“I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, as long as you’ll still be mine.” 

“Of course I will, I’m not going to throw what we have away all because my Dad can’t set aside some stupid rivalry.”

“It’s not a stupid rivalry -”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s a very serious one Arsenal continues to win.” He smirked. “Think I might need to remind Conte that when I see him next -”

“If he doesn’t hunt you down first. He thinks you’re an incredible player Martin but that only makes him hate you even more.”

“You know I don’t care what he thinks about me, right?”

“You have mentioned it.”

“We’ll tell him after Christmas… or maybe just before.”

“We?” “You don’t think I’m going to let you tell him on your own do you?”

Your smile grew as you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, Martin ducked his head down to deepen the kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he did so. The kiss grew hotter as your hands started to tug on the ends of his blonde hair. The pair of you eventually pulled away, your eyes gazing deep into one another's. 

“Who knows maybe you can spend Christmas here.” You spoke, a playful smile tugging on your lips. Martin let out a light laugh, his head falling as he did so. 

“I’m not spending it at this Tottenham house.” 

“Fair point.” You laughed along with him before the two of you got to work on the tree. 

You’d spent the entire time convincing Martin you couldn’t just switch out the colours to red and white but the gunner was adamant that he could make your Dad see reason. Eventually, the tree was decorated in navy blue and white, much to Martin’s disgust. The two of you decided to order a takeaway and watch Christmas films to pass the time. In the evening you’d both bake something Christmassy and then enjoy a joint shower to wash off all the mess you’d made but the sudden noise of your front door unlocking would ruin those evening plans. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen The Muppets Christmas Carol.” You were laying into his side, empty takeaway boxes in front of you both as you watched the film. 

“It’s the same as all the other Christmas Carol films-”

“No, it’s got the muppets in this version therefore it’s better than any other version.”

“What do they add to the original story that makes it better?”

“Comedic value and musical numbers.” You looked over at him with a smile on your lips. “What more could you want?” 

He shrugged before leaning in. “I could think of a few things.” As your lips went to touch his the sound of a key opening your front door made the pair of you jump apart. 

“y/n? My flight was cancelled so you’re stuck with me-” Your Dad went to finish but when his eyes fell on Martin and his daughter beside one another on his sofa his words got lost in his mouth.

“Dad I-” 

“Why is there an Arsenal player in my house?”

“Dad please can we talk about this?” You rose from your spot, Martin copied your actions, his eyes glued to Conte.

“We are talking.” His voice was stern as his bags fell to the floor. His eyes darted to Martin’s and if looks could kill you were convinced your boyfriend would be dead. “Get out, we’ll talk about this when he’s gone.”

“Dad please-”

“It’s not her fault.” Martin cut you off. “Please can we talk to you about this?” Conte said nothing. His eyes just stayed glued to Martin. Your boyfriend took the silent hint to continue. “I love her, a lot. This isn’t just a fling or some shitty hookup, we’ve been together for over a year now and every day I find myself falling for her even more than I was the day before. I know you won’t like me because I play for Arsenal but I hope you can see past that for her. I just want her to be happy, just as you do.” 

“Get out.” Your Dad stood by his words. 

“Dad-”

Martin let his head fall in defeat before speaking. “It’s fine y/n.” Martin cut you off. He leant down and planted a kiss on your head. Martin grabbed his things before heading out the door, his heart racing at what had just happened. Part of him wanted to stay and have it out with your Dad but he knew better than to press on. 

When Martin was gone, Antonio looked over at you and started to speak. “You two have been together over a year?”

“Yes. I wanted to tell you, we planned on doing it soon but we could never find the right time and I knew you’d be annoyed because he plays for Arsenal but-”

“Can’t you see he’s using you?”

You were taken back by his words, your face scrunching at what you’d just heard. “You can’t be serious?”

“Think about it y/n, he plays for Arsenal and he’s the manager's golden boy and now he magically ends up with the rivals manager's daughter? Come on y/n.”

“For once can you just separate football from this, please? I  know it’s your life, it’s mine too but not everything is about football.” You looked away before meeting his gaze again. “If you really think that why wouldn’t he just introduce himself to you so he can get as much knowledge as he possibly can straight away?”

“Probably because he gets it all from you!”

“You think that’s what we talk about? Believe it or not, we have actual conversations that don’t involve a group of men running around in a rectangle kicking a ball around for 90 minutes.”

He let out a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair before he spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d act like this.”

“Do you not trust me y/n?” “Of course, I trust you, Dad.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I thought we could tell one another everything?”

“Because you act like this. You act like he’s using me to get to you but he’s not. You try and put ideas in my head all because you want me to end up with Son or one of your other golden Spurs boys.” Tears formed in your eyes as you spoke. “I can’t help who I fall in love with and-”

“You love him?”

“Of course I do and because I love him I want you to accept him as my boyfriend just as you would do if I was dating any of the Tottenham players. Just because he plays for Arsenal doesn’t mean there’s any ill intent-”

“y/n please listen to me… no Arsenal player would willingly hang around with you-”

“With me?”

“No that’s not what I meant, y/n just listen-”

You didn’t want to hear the rest, why would you? Your Dad wasn’t going to change his mind. He hated the idea of you dating a footballer anyway but if you were he’d always made it clear he’d prefer someone like Son but even then that was a bit of a stretch.  

You didn’t utter a word to your Dad as thoughts of Martin crossed your mind. When anything went wrong Martin was always there and you needed him now. Turning on your heel you headed to your room, packing some essentials before you grabbed your keys. “I need some time to think.” You uttered before opening the front door and clambering into your car. 

Your Dad followed you, his figure standing in the doorway to your house as he watched you wipe your tears with the backs of your hand. You didn’t dare glance over to him as you pulled out of the driveway and headed to Martin’s. Although he normally came to yours there was the odd occasion where you’d stay at his. He had a drawer under his bed full of spare clothes for you and any products you used in your everyday life. If only your Dad bothered to learn about this side of Martin. 

When the blonde opened the door his heart sank at the sight of you. Without uttering a word Martin pulled you inside, his arms wrapping around you immediately. For a while, you sobbed into his chest whilst he planted light kisses on your head and smoothed your hair down. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He finally spoke. 

“I’ve fucked up.”

“No, you haven’t.” Martin pulled away, his hands cupping your face as he wiped your tears away. “Look, I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve stood up for you and at least spoken to him before I left you alone.”

“This isn’t your fault Martin.” 

“It is partly. I was the one who continued to hide it away from your Dad when you wanted to tell him.”

“No, it’s not.” You planted a light kiss on his lips. “I just need time apart from him.”

“Well…” A smile spread across his lips. “I do need to decorate the tree in Arsenal colours.”

“Only if we get to finish The Muppets Christmas Carol.”

“Deal.”

— 

For the past two weeks, you’d spent most of your waking hours with Martin, pushing what happened with your Dad to the back of your mind. You would attend Martin’s games which lead to a lot of talk with the press when fans caught you wearing an Arsenal shirt in his box. Conte did his best to avoid any talk of you, his anger still boiling up inside him at the idea of his daughter dating Arteta’s golden boy. Although his anger continued to shine, especially with Tottenham’s poor results he couldn’t help but feel an emptiness in the house. Without you, he was on his own and that feeling only got worse as Christmas approached. 

It was Christmas Eve and Martin had just gotten home from training. The two of you were under a blanket as snow started to fall from the sky. The pair of you had your eyes glued to the TV which was currently playing The Grinch, your hands intertwined with his. 

“Are you planning to spend Christmas with me?” Martin muttered into your hair before kissing your forehead. 

“Of course I am.” You turned your head to face him. “Not exactly going to get up and run away now am I?” Martin leaned down and pecked your lips, his smile growing at your words. 

“Perfect although I’d prefer if you were on good terms with your Dad. Have you spoken to him?”

“Nope.” 

“Do you plan on it?”

“After Christmas.”

“Is it…?”

“The first Christmas without him? Yep.” A wave of sadness washed over you as you spoke. “No matter what team he was managing or wherever he was in the world we’d always be together for Christmas.”

“y/n this is all -”

Before Martin could finish his sentence his front door sounded. The pair of you glanced at one another before looking over to the door. Martin lifted you gently off his chest before making his way to his door.

“Were you expecting anyone?” You asked. 

“No? Maybe Mikel needs something…” As he swung the door open he was met with the sympathetic eyes of your father. “Sorry, how do you know where I live?” 

“Merry Christmas to you too Martin… I asked Arteta. I told him what happened and well, he was happy to help.”

“Brilliant.”

“Is she inside?”

“She is.” Martin leaned against the door frame as he spoke. “Do you really think she wants to see you? She told me everything… you really thought I was using her?”

“Can I please come in and talk it through with both of you?” A pitch of silence fell through the air. “Please?” 

Martin knew you wanted it to be sorted. He could see how much it hurt you to be away from your Dad, especially at Christmas but he also knew this could all go horribly wrong and ruin the first proper Christmas the pair of you were spending together. Reluctantly he stepped aside and let your Dad in. He sent you a sympathetic look as you watched the familiar face walk through the door. 

“y/n…”

“Hello, Dad.” 

“I need to speak to both of you.” Martin walked back over to where you were sitting on the sofa, his eyes stern as he looked at your Dad. “I’m sorry for what I said to you both. I always let football take over my life, y/n knows that.” He gave a light smile your way before he continued. “I shouldn’t have let the rivalry between the two clubs get in the way of my daughter's happiness. As much as I hate Arsenal and especially Arteta’s golden boy it still wasn’t fair. I should never have doubted how you felt about my daughter Martin.” He let out a small laugh, “I can tell by the fans speak about you both that you treat her well.”

“Of course I do.” Martin sighed at his words. “Look, I get it. My Dad is the same with rivalries and so was I but the truth is football controls most of our lives but it shouldn’t control every aspect of our lives, especially the ones we love.”

“I’m so sorry.” Your Dad repeated. 

“Me too.” You finally spoke. “We should’ve told you a long time ago-”

“I don’t blame you for not telling me. I understand why, look at what happened when you did.”

“You should not have found out that way.” You rose from your seat. Heading towards him with open arms. “I’m sorry Dad.” The pair of you wrapped your arms around one another. Martin stayed on the sofa, his smile growing knowing he’d finally been accepted by your Dad and now the two of you were finally back on track. 

Both you and Conte pulled back. “How can I make it up to you both?” He asked. 

“I have an idea,” Martin spoke up, a smirk growing on his lips. “Spend Christmas here with us, in the Arsenal-themed house.”

Conte looked between you both. No amount of grafting would get him out of Martin’s proposal. “Fine, as long as you two aren’t all over each other.”

“Can’t promise that sir.” Martin made his way over to you both, his hand extending for Conte to shake. “She does look good in my Arsenal shirt.”

“Watch it, Ødegaard.” 

Can you do an angst with charles where the reader is a verstappen and lots of brother max🥺🥺🥺

I've had so many Verstappen!reader x Charles recently so here's one of many ;) You can read it here