Charles Leclerc X Y/n - Tumblr Posts
style 1989 #CL16
PAIRING: charles leclerc x reader!
SYNOPSIS: inspired by taylor swift, “style”
WARNING: angst & fluff
Midnight, you come and pick me up no headlights
“ you can’t keep calling me you know that, right? ” he sighed while piggy backing you and struggling to walk in a straight line.
“ i couldn’t help it, charles. You’re on my speed dial, you know how that goes? It’s not like this is the first time, could have just declined the call. ” you rolled your eyes but your heart is slightly beating from the close contact with your best friend.
“ can’t leave you alone, in a place like these mon chérie ” he needs to stop calling me these names while having a partner waiting for him at home.
“ sorry if i crashed your date night with charlotte, i hope she doesn’t hate me, im really sorry Charles ”
you remembered drinking few more shots after seeing charlotte’s Instagram story with him on a date night.
you genuinely felt so shitty but couldn’t help it as Charles is the only guy you’ve trusted in the whole 22 years of your life when it comes to these situations
he laughed, and just shook his head.
the whole ride to your apartment was just in silence.
It’s been a while since i’ve heard from you
Ever-since that night, you’ve removed him from your speed dial, not only that but maybe, just maybe you’ve removed him from everything except your personal Instagram.
Because, here you are stalking or maybe lurking through his and her posts.
“ You’ve got to stop that you know. You’re only setting yourself up "
you’ve recognized that voice, partly because you’ve gotten closer to Lando Norris after the one-sided fall out with Charles
You knew Lando, because he would always come to the drivers gathering and way before Charles was with her, you were his +1 (as close friends of course).
But, you’ve gotten closer with him when he was surprisingly there for you when you were drunkenly crying over Charles at the paddock bar, and you’ve realised that Charles was the only oblivious person towards your feelings.
You let out a big sigh and flipped Lando off jokingly. You locked your phone and proceed to continue on with the workload in front of you.
“ he has been asking you know? he’s always looking for you, i can’t continue lying on your whereabouts. Let it out and tell him y/n, maybe that’ll soothe your heart better and for fuck sake, stop being in the McLaren garage when you’re working for Ferrari ”
you couldn’t help but laugh at Lando’s last sentence. You’re working as Scuderia Ferrari’s as a Social Media Intern, but instead of being in their office or garage, you’re at McLaren’s trying to avoid a certain someone.
I should just tell you to leave cause i know where it exactly leads
Scuderiaferrari just posted a photo
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
Scuderiaferrari sometimes we refused to think that our two drivers are fully grown adult, but then again look at their photography postures ( speaks a lot! )
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leclercluvr ADMIN VIOLATED THEM
carlost55 im screaming which admin posted this w this caption, she’s gg to lose her job 😭
ferraridefender honestly facts, admin speak facts
charles_leclerc age is just a number, @ carlossainz55 we need to back ourselves up
carlossainz55 doesn’t matter if we’re old, we’re the hottest drivers in the grid
you closed your laptop after posting on the Ferrari Instagram page and packed your things until you felt someone tapped your right shoulder
“ what’s the rush? trying to not bump into me? ” 4 letters that ran through your mind, FUCK!
you let out a laugh to not react awkwardly and shook your head
“ what are you on charles? i’m just packing, we’re working in the same place anyways ” you continue packing your things
“ i know y/n. i know about your feelings towards me y/n. ”
you were shocked at the sudden confession that you turned your body straight away to Charles direction
“ Charlotte told me, she broke up with me, she said she couldn’t be in a relationship with me knowing i would be running over to you at any moment of the day, i didn’t know how to react to that y/n ”
“ i went to Lando’s apartment straight away after the break up w cha, to find you but Lando told me you’re here and before i drove here, he stopped me and told me the same thing too y/n. I know it’s not his place to tell me your true feelings but i’m sorry y/n ”
he reached out for your hand but you couldn’t help feeling angry from the current situation that you smacked away his hands that was reaching out to you
“ Charles, you can’t do that to me. You can’t just come running over to me just because cha broke up with you and you found out i’m in l-love with y-you”
you couldn’t help but struggle to speak without the urge of crying
“ i love you, y/n. Mon Chérie, i’ve always loved you”
he whispered
“ no, you’re lying. You’re only saying that now, because you know about my feelings towards you. What about last time? What about the times i’ve tried to tell you, you’re always changing the subject mid convos. Charles, make up your mind and talk to me again. ”
you walked away leaving Charles thinking about the missed opportunity with you.
And i got that red lip classic thing that you like
y/ninstagram
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others
y/ninstagram promised him that this time i’m not gonna be working at the office, but instead be at the sidelines for him charles_leclerc 🏎️♥️
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landonorris what about me???????
y/ninstagram always supporting you 🧡
landonorris as you should be
charles_leclerc get your own girlfriend, stop stealing mine
maxverstappen1 finally you both had the balls huh
carlossainz55 you owe me 50
leclercluvr WAG MY FAV WAG
myworldc2 ain’t this his bestfriend? they’re dating?
carlost yeah they were close friends!!!!!!
charles_leclerc Je t'aime de tout mon cœur ♥️
y/ninstagram love you more ♥️
end note: thanks for reading, this is my first ever writing that is public 😭 i love LOVE angst and fluff reads, so here’s a lil something with everyone’s favourite driver <3 sorry for the bad french translation or grammars!
set fire to the rain, part one #PG10
PAIRING: pierre gasly x reader! , Charles LecLerc x reader!platonic
SUMMARY: your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain
WARNINGS: angst, will continue a part 2 soon! Listen to the song as a background music to get the feels of it!
FC: roses_are_rosie
sometimes i wake up by the door, that heart you caught, must be waiting for you
There’s a saying that goes, “your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain” and you’ve never believed it until you’ve experienced it.
you dated a man, that would do anything for you, that would suprise you breakfast in bed, made you feel like you’ve strike a lottery every single day, made you feel like your next could never beat this man.
But, the world is cruel because a few years later you’ve lost this man to someone who’s much worth than you are.
Even now, when we’re already over, i can’t help myself from looking for you
You’ve met through a mutual friend, some one who’s still close to you.
“I promise you y/n, you’ll like him! who knows you’re gonna finally fall in love and be in a long term relationship?” Charles was convincing you to date one of the drivers from the grid.
He was literally following every footsteps you’ve taken, usually you don’t mind his existence but here you are trying to focus on the notes placed in-front of you.
“Charles, if i wanted a relationship i would have been on hundreds and thousands of blind dates, i wouldn’t even be here right now! but im here, studying this” you sounded pissed while pointing to ur thick notes that was placed on top of the cafe table.
“Look, take a breath of fresh air, make yourself look pretty on date nights, do things you’ve never done before y/n! Live your life!” Charles was literally giving you the puppy eyes.
“Charles leclerc, i’m 4 years younger than you and i’ve an important examination that determine my career, but if doing this makes you shut the hell up, fine. Once and if this guy icks me, i’m not listening to you anymore!” You rolled your eyes jokingly, and heard charles pumping the air with a whispered ‘yes’
He snatched your mobile phone that you were holding on, and key-ed in number and letters and showed you the screen.
There on the screen was the name of your first love, pierre gasly.
Pierre Gasly, was a french man who took your breath away upon the first meeting. French wasn’t really the language you’re an expert in, even when your own best friend is monegasque. You’ve learn couple of words from charles but that’s it as both of you tend to mainly converse in english.
The whole date was not awkward at all, which comes to a surprise to you knowingly you’re a huge HUGE introvert with no social skills and from one date, to once in a few weeks dates to weekly dates and to finally being together.
In the first year of being together with pierre, nothing changed, everything was the same feeling as when you’ve met the first time. He would bring you around France whenever you’re on holidays, introducing you to his family and friends. What hits the spots is when he would bring you to places that he treasured the most.
The second year was when you’ve started to notice small changes, it started from him missing your weekly dates, not answering your calls with the excuse of him being too busy. You didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’re working while studying, your time for him wasn’t that much too, your routine while he was on season would be campus, work and sleep.
Whenever its off season, you’ll have routines where pierre and you would have picnics by the beach, pottery dates and more, but as days pass by you’ve realised how less time he has for you.
You knew something was wrong, but for someone who’s too in love, you refused to say anything until Charles spoke to you.
It was just a normal weekend, you’ve not plotted yourself a shift to your part time job, so you’ve decided to settle your school works at your own comfort of home until you heard a bell. You knew it wasn’t pierre and at this point, you had no faith in both you and pierre’s relationship.
“Hey, it’s been long” charles came in the house and hugged you.
“Yeah, sorry man, i’ve just been too busy, i’ve got to keep getting good grades for you to finally see me on the grid being a reporter” you smiled and led him to your kitchen, where most of your notes, laptop, books were.
“Sorry for the mess, was kinda in the zone” charles laughed, not minding one bit knowing how focused you are once you’ve start on your work.
“Pierre’s not homed?” Charles ask confusingly
“Pierre’s moved out, it’s only me charles” you refused to talk about pierre even-though you’re still in a relationship with him.
“When did it happened, why hasn’t pierre told me? What happened between you and him, y/n?”
“We lost the spark charles, i know he has his eyes on someone else charles” you knew, you knew how he looked at her whenever she was invited to the driver gatherings, you knew but you refused to believe even-though you knew how much prettier she was than you
“y/n, i’m so sorry. I didn’t know anything, i’ve never expected pierre to have done this, mon cherie. I’ve feel fault knowing I’ve introduced both of you to each other” charles stood in-front of you and engulfed you in a hug which led you to have a breakdown.
“It’s never your fault charles, this is why i’ve told you countless times i’m not interested in the dating zone. I’d rather stay home at weekends facing my bed and tv”
you laughed, but charles knew deep down his best friend was suffering silently, and this was what charles was scared off, losing two of his best-friends and having to choose a side.
“Charles, i know you’re thinking of choosing a side but you don’t have to, pierre and you were friends way before i’ve met you. We can still be friends charles, i do not mind at the fact you’re best mates with my ex charles. If anything, i’m happy that you’re willing to be friends with me, so don’t think too much charles, you’re just gonna overthink your small brain”
both of you laughed, but you were different, for some reason the tears couldn’t stop coming down.
“Did pierre asked for it?” Charles asked, not believing his best mate had just broken the heart of his other best friend.
You shook your head and pointed at yourself, “ i did. I think he had a grasp of the situation and didn’t fight back, but it’s alright. It’s an experience for my first love” you’ve shrugged, while cleaning the mess you’ve made
Both of you have decided to not talk about pierre anymore and continue on both of your days together, with charles making sure you’re going to sleep with peace.
Months passed by, you’ve finally scored your first reporter job on the grid and it was the Monaco GP.
You had Lissie mentoring you and guiding you through everything, you knew Lissie through Lando and you’re glad for this because with out this opportunity you’ve wouldn’t be here as a reporter.
“We’re going to scuderia alphatauri team, y/n do you want me to take over?” Lissie asked you for the second time.
You gave her a smile and shook your head “Lissie it’s fine, i will be okay, i promise you.”
Lissie knew your past with the certain team member of scuderia alphatauri team and safe to say she wasn’t really happy with the personality of his but you’ve assured her that he wasn’t really a bad guy, maybe just a right person wrong timing?
What you didn’t notice was charles and pierre conversing and pierre eyes mainly focusing on you.
“Charles, you’ve never told me y/n would be here?”
carlos came and joined the conversation asking charles about your presence on the grid.
Charles was confused, why would you be here? You had decline the paddock passes he gave to you and so he followed carlos directions and saw you there right in-front of the camera interviewing George Russell and charles heart has never felt so full seeing your dream had been accomplished
Charles ignored the conversation with pierre and carlos and walked straight to you and waited for the interview to end to hug you.
“Surprise charles, i’m here, this time being paid!” You hugged back and stepped back
“I am so so proud of you, thanks Lissie for giving her this opportunity!” Charles smiled and thanked Lissie knowing how much the opportunity meant to y/n.
Lissie laughed it off and mumbled a no worries to him.
“Will you be interviewing us? Carlos and I? When will that be?”
“She’s not going to Charles, i’m sorry you’ll be seeing my face instead” Lissie broke off the news to him and laughed
Charles rolled his eyes jokingly, “for once, i thought i could get away from you, Lissie”
While Lissie, Charles and you were conversing, pierre, yuki and carlos made their way to the three of you.
“Hey y/n, long time no see” yuki greeted you
“Oh please, we met last sunday at the japanese restaurant, stop lying yuki!”
You knew the air was intense with charles and Lissie being protective of you around pierre and carlos with yuki having zero ideas of the backstory of both you and pierre parting.
“Hello Pierre, Hello Carlos! Fancy seeing both of you here too” you smiled.
“Well i fancy seeing you here, seeing you with radios and scripts attached to you is something i need to get used to looking at” Carlos touched the radio that was attached to your hip
“I’m proud of you, y/n” the sentence that would’ve broken down y/n if she wasn’t right in-front of her friends
“ oh shut up carlos, watch out for me more often in the future gps, don’t fall for me! and thank you pierre, couldn’t have done it without Lissie’s help of course!” Refusing to have the conversation mainly focusing on you, you shifted it to Lissie
After all of the catching up session, you’ve interviewed scuderia alphatauri and you’re thankful that it wasn’t as awkward as you’ve thought it’ll be. Once it was wrapped up, you excused yourself and pack things that were needed to be packed with Lissie.
Things were going smoothly for you for the weekend, avoiding pierre and focusing yourself on the task that was given. Interviews with you was widely loved by fans knowing that you’ve already formed a relationship with 20 of the drivers way before.
Soon after, Lissie and you were separated, you’ll be in charge of games and Lissie does most of the talking interviews. You were being sent to different gps than Lissie, though it bugs you off not being with Lissie, you still couldn’t be more thankful.
You’re finally at the Miami GP, this time with Lissie. God really wasn’t on your side today because, if anyone could have been stucked in a lift with you it has to be kika.
The woman that pierre had his eyes on while being in a relationship with you.
Kika knew of your existence but it takes two hands to clap so you did not really put the 100% blame on her because at the end of the day, pierre’s to be blamed too.
“Love the grey dress on you, y/n! you look really good in it” this shocked you, because this was your ever first conversation with kika herself.
you coughed and thanked her while complementing her outfit too, not really your style but for the sake of being kind, why not…? right?
“I didn’t know about you and pierre” she continued, you were really pissed off at the fact why has no one come to rescue me and her.
you really did not want to have this conversation especially after it took you almost 7 months to fully moved on.
“No worries, old story. Pierre’s much happier with you,yes?” You told her off while taking a seat on the lift floor.
she sat beside you.
“He’s not over it yet y/n, at night when i can’t find him next to the bed with me, he’s in the kitchen scrolling through pictures of you both, i’ve caught him listening to the playlist both of you’ve made too. I don’t blame him y/n, i’m sorry for telling you.”
“Kika….” you were stunned, in the 7 months it took you multiple shifts, late night studying to get rid of pierre on your mind only for it to come back right here right now
“I know you’re much more happier now y/n, but pierre was much happy with you than with me. I’ve noticed during the interview you did with him and yuki, I think that was a sign, you know? He doesn’t call me cherie, because it reminded him of you”
“kika, this is too much for me, let’s just be silent yeah?”
All you ever wanna do right now, is to get back to your hotel room and cry your lungs out
5 mins later, you hear the elevator door open and ding, and there stood in-front of you was the man of honour himself.
“Hey love, you okay?” You thought he went to kika and that was what confirmed it for you until you realised he was in-front of you.
“Pierre….? Kika’s there” you sound confused and pointed to kika
a/n : that’s all!!!!!! i hope you like part one, will post part 2 ASAP! pictures are there too let yall imagine the outfits etc!
better than revenge #PG10
PAIRING: pierre gasly x reader! Charles leclerc x reader! Platonic
SUMMARY: a part 2 of set fire to the rain, what happens when pierre gasly comes back running in to your life after all the heart break that he caused you? will you take him back?
WARNING: angst & fluff
FC: roses_are_rose on ig
you pointed to where kika was standing, both kika and your eyes were wide, taken aback from pierre’s statement.
Charles, was steps behind from pierre and approached you making sure you’re okay not knowing the current situation were super tense.
you broke the silence, “pierre, let’s talk”
Charles walked away with kika, while you dragged pierre into your hotel room that was shared with Lissie.
You offered him a glass of water, “room’s a mess, but we need to talk about what happened. Kika told me the situation between both of you, care to explain?”
“I missed you, when you left, charles and i had a talk about our relationship, and i have slowly started to regret how i was neglecting you during our relationship.
Kika’s and I relationship were never meant to be serious, but eventually it had and every night i was still thinking about us. How we would have been right now, if i didn’t neglect our relationship.”
both of you sat side by side, and you had failed to noticed how pierre was tearing up until u felt drops of tears fell on to the back of your palm, that was caressing his hands (to be fair you were trying to calm him down)
Lissie had told you multiple times that you were just too kind for anyone in this world, and this gesture speaks a-lot because no women on this earth would be in this situation with their nasty ex-boyfriend
you were out of words because you’ve never realised you would be encountering this experience that was usually seen in televisions.
To be fair, pierre made you realise that your life was much more worthy. 70% of the moments that was spend with him was what made you the women you are today.
you had remembered times when you were close to giving up on your education but pierre took his time off schedule, he would face-time after the weekend races to accompany you pull an all nighter, you’ll wake up with breakfast in bed, assurance were given to you without being asked.
eventually, you let out a huge sigh
“Pierre, there’s a saying that ‘your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain’ and i’ve always thought of you, i tried going on dates after our separate ways, but i couldn’t just give it a try because you’re always there, do you know that?”
you looked up at him, pierre wanted to say something but you weren’t finished
“i’ll think, oh pierre would have done this for me? oh pierre would have loved this? every single time a guy tried to do moves on me. Eventually, i got rid of that thought after 7 months. Well yeah, still no boyfriend but i’m happy that you were my first love. You’ve taught me so much and that so much was things that i could’ve only known because i was with you.”
you felt a tear roll down your cheeks, maybe tomorrow when you’re awake you’ll regret opening up your heart to someone who once had it.
“I’m sorry, y/n, i really am, but let’s just try for the second time and if this really does not work out, i’ll leave you alone”
that was real selfish of him, because here he is begging you to take him back but kika’s out there suffering the same heartbreak you were in 7 months ago.
“solve things out with kika, pierre. You both were in love too, special memories were made too, assure her and let her know what you’re really feeling and maybe get back to me?”
you smiled at pierre and he nodded his head, while walking himself out of your hotel room
You’ve finally reached the imola grand prix, and here you are with Lissie and charles in charles driving room. With you always being around Charles, ferrari allowed you full access.
“have you thought on what you’re gonna say to pierre?” charles asked you while you were pacing back and forth in his driver room
“no, charles! i’m scared what if he had the talk with kika, and suddenly wants me back in his life? i can’t just drop the 7 months that i was suffering because of him, just because i loved him too much”
your head was in your hand because it has been on your mind ever-since the conversation with pierre happened
charles knew how in love with pierre you were, when both of you had freshly broken up you’ll get drunk most of the time and would lead to you drunk calling him, most of the time crying.
Pierre came to charles multiple times regarding this exact situation, as much as charles hates that pierre was the cause of your huge heart break but pierre and you was his closest friends and he knew the impact pierre had on you.
“Well, just accept him back in to your life then”
Lissie added on, “if you’re thinking about it, that speaks alot. You clearly want him back, as much as i disliked him, if he makes you happy, we’re happy with it”
“Or you could just find another driver to date….?” now this was a voice you would not expect to join the conversation you’re having
“Carlos…? How much did you heard?”
“Not much, but walls are thin here, i didn’t know you ended things with pierre that way, but what i was saying is, there are other people here who would die to be with you and would treat you much better than how pierre treated you, but why do you care anyways? i’m pretty sure the pierre’s impact is still on to you”
Carlos and Charles laughs, which made you rolled your eyes
“i don’t know guys, will it be healthy for me? that’s the question i’ve been asking”
“not all relationships are supposed to be healthy for you. yeah there may be ups and downs, but that’s the purpose of a relationship isn’t it? Loving each other even through tough times”
Lissie sat up and assured you, with charles and carlos agreeing Lissie’s statement
Maybe you’ve already made up your mind, but you just needed extra assurance from your closest friends
“Okay that’s all for the sappy talk, we need to go now, they’re finding for us charles, drivers meeting happens in 5 minutes and we need to be there” Carlos said his greetings and pulled charles along with him not giving him a chance to give his goodbyes to Lissie and i
While waiting for Lissie to finish her interview session with the redbull drivers, you were just walking to a nearby bar to get a drink, because it sure as hell is a hot day, and a drink right now would sound so fucking good.
what makes it worse, is the choice of clothing you’re wearing, you’re really not a fan of revealing clothes but Lissie had decided to dress you up, as after the qualifying rounds, she had made plans for both of you to go to a nearby club with some other friends.
Normally you’d have a blazer or a thin jacket as a cover-up but you had forgotten to picked up ur blazer from charles drivers room and you can’t access it without him being beside you as you didn’t really had a pass.
“here” as soon as you spoke about your blazer, you were handed a black blazer by someone
“than- pierre..?” you were slightly confused because he weren’t supposed to be here knowing there’ll be a debrief anytime in 15 mins, but here he is sitting beside you.
“charles handed me your blazer and told me you’d b here, he kinda send me away to talk to you” he shrugged, while ordering a drink.
you just gave him a smile, because you weren’t sure if you should bring up the conversation about him and kika knowing it’ll tensed up both of you.
“kika and i had the talk, i know you’re really curious about that” his seat was turned to face you, and he did the same to you, rotating your seat.
“I’ll just let you know how it goes and how i truly feel, it’ll be your choice if you are willing to accept me back into your life. I know how hard it is for you and i’m not rushing you to give me an answer, y/n.”
“go on” you gave him a nod
“kika was the one that knocked some sense into me, she told me that she could still see that i still had my heart reserved for you. Honestly, I’ve never notice it. I apologised to her that even-though we were in a relationship my heart didn’t belong to her. I felt bad of course, because at first i truly liked her but the constant reminders of you were just so hard to shrugged it off. When u came to Miami Grand Prix, i didn’t expect you’ll be there because charles told me you were busy and you guys barely communicated. I kinda bribed him to get regular updates about you” pierre laughed
“what did u bribe him with..?” you were as confused as ever, if charles needed anything he would have just gotten it, because this man has got to be the richest one in your friendship.
“advice on his fashion sense” well this clicked so well because lately Charles have been asking fashion advices from you, online shopping regularly, even having packages shipped to you just in case fans found out about his home address
“from you? i’m amazed, pierre. I was the one who had to pick your clothes for our dates, i’m glad you’ve upgraded that wardrobe of yours”
we both had more conversations but i had a question that i was much more curious
“did she went home?” changing the topic
“no, she’s still here, her friends are here so she went with them instead. I have asked her to keep the paddock passes because i felt bad”
you nodded ur head, it’s great that she’s still here, i wouldn’t want things to be awkward especially after the elevator incident
“We’ll start slow, we’ll then see how it goes” you said softly, you were honestly scared of how this will go because if pierre had done this to you once, what is stopping him to do it twice?
“That’s fine to me, y/n. I’ll prove to you that im worthy of getting the second chance” he hugged you
The hug still felt awkward and tense because it’s been quite a while since Pierre and you shared a hug
“You’re not interviewing anyone? I’ll probably have to be back soon in 10 minutes? Wanna walk back together?”
you shook your head, signalling him that you did not have any interviews today but agreed on walking back to the paddock together
“Lissie’s in-charge today, i’m interviewing aston martin’s team, mclaren’s team and your team though tomorrow, before and after the race. Guess you’ll need to see my face again, hope you don’t get sick of me!”
both of you shared a laugh, “i would never get sick of your face” pierre mumbled softly, which led to you not hearing anything
when both of you reached your respective destination, you gave your goodbyes and proceed to assist Lissie and the team to pack things up
Lissie noticed your existence, “everything alright?”
you gave her a thumbs up and continued your task.
you were drunk.
Things escalated so quickly, it’s not even 3 hours in and you were drunk.
It wasn’t drunk drunk but DRUNK DRUNK.
What’s crazy is you were never a light weight, but for some reason the empty stomach really made you feel like a light weight, because here you are seated on your table while the others were on the dance floor
You’ve never noticed your driver friends walking in to the exact same club in the next booth, because whenever you are drinking, all thoughts are only on you
Other than being drunk, you’re stubborn, because here you are chugging 4 shots of vodka and walking straight to the dance floor
“What’s gotten her, isn’t she the strongest amongst us?” Amanda, Lissie’s friend shouted through the music
Lissie signaled her a love sign which made the whole group did an “OOH”.
“hey pretty girl, slow down on those shots, will you?” You felt someone slid their arms on your wrist but was too confused on who it was with the blurred vision you had
But you do recognise this accent and voice
“Chaaaaaarles, what ar you doooing here?” holding on to him for stability
“What you’re here for too, how much did she drank?” Charles asked Lissie
Lissie didn’t know if she should be lying to Charles with the alcohol intake you had or tell the truth, so she chose the latter option because charles was one scary man when he’s angry
“More than you can imagine”
Charles rolled his eyes and walked you back to the booth, except this wasn’t the girls booth but it’s the guys and they were shocked seeing you here drunk
Obviously not a common sight for them
“y/n?” pierre stood up walking to both you and charles
“hey hahahahaha, fuck i’m so light headed right now” head in your hands, whining which made the guys laughed
“not the strongest soldier anymore?” george snickered
“shut the fuck up, i think the dude did something to the drink it’s so fucking strong, it’s so insane” you leaned your head back not knowing it landed on Lance’s shoulder
“What did you ask for?” Carlos questioned you
“the stongest in the house and i did a lot a LOT of shots, fuck i have an interview too, with YOU” you gave carlos his answer and pointed to Lance signifying that you’re doing an interview with him tomorrow probably hangover.
“well that’s probably why you’re like this, sherlock holmes” Lando added on
“drink up” pierre handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down in a second
“easy” Lance soothed your back, and this action made Pierre tensed which charles happened to notice and can’t help but to smile
“thaaaanks sweet boy, other girls would die to be me right now” you laughed, half conscious half drunk
“drinking more?” george asked
you nodded your head while charles and pierre shouted a hard NO
“unfair, i’m doing great right now, i think…?” you gave them a pout which led them to laugh loudly
“you’re crazy y/n, just don’t turn up to the paddock with those huge shades of yours that you used to do back then” Lando commented which made you rolled your eyes
“They made me feel like a bad bitch, maybe you need a pair too so you’re able to feel the bad bitch vibes”
“I don’t like drunk y/n, she’s snarky as hell” pierre taken aback by the comment you gave to lando
“that’s on you babes, honesty is the best policy!!!!!!!! Oh deaaaaaaaaaar, i need to fucking puke, i’m never drinking” you stood up and dragged pierre along with you because right now, he’s just standing in front of you
“Lovebirds” carlos rolled his eyes, but deep down it kinda warmed the other guys because they knew both of you were each other end games
you wake up in a hotel bed, but you are unsure if you made it home safely, until you heard songs from the kitchen area.
now it clicked you, this isn’t your hotel room, hell nah, you refuse to believe you had just done a one night stand but when you got out of bed you’ve realise, you were clothed head to toe
an oversize black tee with basketball shorts that was clearly to long and big for your small size.
Oh my god, how drunk were you to be in a strangers bed
You walked slowly to the kitchen area only to recognise the guy’s back view and it slowly made your heart warm because you have never thought you’ll face this back view again
Pierre heard your footsteps, “awake? any hangovers?”
you shook, well this was the best part because no matter how much you drink, hangover weren’t really your thing
“feeling anything?” he stood in-front of you hands on your head which made your head lean on to his torso
pierre felt so full knowing you’re here in front of him, the view he has been dying to wake up to
“just hungry, how did i end up here?”
“charles a room away, but he’s sharing with Arthur and you’re quite noisy when you are drunk so i opted to bring you in my room instead.
We couldn’t find Lissie anywhere, apparently she went home at 6AM because she knocked charles door frantically thinking you were lost, she’s dead asleep though in your room. Must be a great night for both of you”
he chuckled playing with your hair
“great night, yes? for me and lissie? maybe. Did you cook? Something smells good, i don’t know if it’s you or the food”
“it’s the food, it might be me too, you’re the stinky one here” pierre guided you to the kitchen, seeing the pancakes and omelette placed right in-front of you
“i don’t mind having a taste of both but the pancakes are screaming out to me more, sorry pierre”
this was an out of pocket comment, because to Pierre you were someone shy but through out the night, he realised that you were getting super bold with everything
“this isn’t very friends of us, huh” you commented
“so why not let’s give it a try?” you added
pierre stood up in shocked and walked right over to kiss you there and that
“oh i fucking miss this, miss everything about you baby”
y/nviews just posted
tagged charles_leclerc , pierregasly and lissiemackintosh
liked by pierregasly, lissiemackintosh and others
y/nviews they droved off without me, I’m literally steve in the relationship
charles_leclerc YOU WERE WITH LISSIE
y/nviews could’ve offered?????????? smh and you call me your best friend? im offended
pierregasly there wasn’t any space, did u wanted to sit on my lap, dearest steve?
y/nviews that wasn’t a problem last night
georgerussell63 timeout stop ruining this child pierregasly y/nviews
gaslaaaayed wait…. R they back together??????? FINALLY?
tsunoday i’ve been waiting for this 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
pgaslighter landonorris they’re a quadrant right now, watch out they’re coming for your spot 🫵🏻
landonorris oh hell no lissiemackintosh GET OUT! That was my spot originally 🤗
pierregasly just posted
tagged y/nviews
liked by y/nviews, carlossainz55 and others
pierregasly she refused to get a license just so she’ll be my passenger princess forever, i’m loving it though
charles_leclerc she’s lying, she has one but don’t risk yourself
y/nviews this is false information, i’ve failed it at least 2 times
carlossainz55 i’ll teach you, i think im a great driver 🤭
pierregasly no one’s teaching my gf except me
y/nviews naw that shucks, i was srs about it though carlossainz55
lance_stroll was about to give a like until i saw your face, I’m taking it back y/nviews
y/nviews i love my fans 😓
y/nviews i love you forever my baguette 🥖
pierregasly …..
a/n: well that’s all for this series! i hope it’s a great ending bcause i was unsure on how i should’ve ended this :0
illicit affairs #CL16 #MS47
PAIRING: charles leclerc x ex-gf reader! mick schumacher x reader!
SUMMARY: he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one
WARNING: angst + cheating, fluff at the end
masterlists
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2018
being in a relationship has it’s ups and downs, not everyday is full of smiles and laughters, some times it’s deadly silence just like the situation right now between you and charles
you were in a relationship with charles leclerc eversince 2016, you’ve seen him won the formula 2 championship, jumping to formula 1, you were there when he went through hard times, there were days you had to put him over yourself and you’ve never once regretted it.
But here you are, in a relationship that’s full of rocky roads. Charles and you met through his younger brother arthur, you were just a year older than Arthur, and the both of you used to hangout at the leclerc’s apartment daily as the both of you were and still has a close friendship. Arthur had given an advice to you in the early stages of dating with his brother, an advice you should’ve listen clearly.
“i’ll pack my things later, and i’m moving out tomorrow charles” the both of you is currently in the kitchen, you sitting down sipping on your warm honey lemon tea and him just munching down on the breakfast you’ve made for him
“i’m sorry, i swear i do not know what came on to me. she just happened to be there, i should have pushed her, cherie” you heard the metal fork cling as it came in contact with the marble counter top, you refused to believe the news that was trending everywhere
Formula One driver Charles Leclerc caught cheating on his fiancé, y/n l/n last night
When you were woken up by Arthur calls, you were confused of course until you clicked on the link that was send to you from Arthur. Ironically last night, you were on the call with him frantically worrying on Charles whereabouts, other than being woken up by Arthur’s morning calls, you were greeted by the sight of Charles sprawled out on the sofa in the living room.
All the times you were asking for signs if he was made for you, and even though the news did broke your heart, it showed the truth to you and made you realise that you wouldn’t want to spend your precious moments crying and fixing a relationship that is probably isn’t even worth it anymore.
“Sorry doesn’t fix the heartache i woke up to this morning, Charles. If this relationship isn’t worth the fight for you, you could have ask for a break and not cheat on me with someone else. That is so low of you, you knew how cheating affects me, you promised you will never do what he did and here you are proving me wrong”
“i know mon cherie, i am aware and i am so sorry. all i can do right now is to apologise to you, i am so sorry. i love you, i really do. you’ll always be the person my heart beats for cherie, please listen to me” you could hear Charles footsteps approaching you
“sometimes i wish you are able to see how much i sacrifice myself for you, when you were devastated from losing races, i would drop every single thing i was doing and run to you, calm you down.” you could feel tears running down your cheeks, reminiscing the memories the both of you have made together, from bad memories to good memories
“i supported you in every races no matter how exhausted i was, i would pray everyday that you wouldn’t crash and hurt yourself or blame yourself. I had to turn down job offers because i know that i am your number one support system, and i’ll always have to be there” his hand reached yours and tightly gripping it not letting you go
“but I’m exhausted Charles, I’m exhausted that i am always the one putting so much more effort in the relationship, i know you’re fighting for your dreams but what about mine? You’ve never asked about it, i know so much of you yet you know so little of me. I’m sorry Charles, if this happened a year ago, i would have accepted you back in my life but i’m not her anymore.” you let go of his hand, walking to the sink of the shared kitchen and washed the mug
Charles of course had nothing to say because he knew how badly he has been treating you, especially when whatever you’ve spilled your hearts out were accurate, he knew too little of you.
“where are you going to stay, will you be at Arthur’s ?”
“i will crash over at Arthur’s until i found a place, you shouldn’t be concerned where i am staying, be more concerned with Arthur, he’s fuming Charles. He’s your brother, fix the relationship”
with that, you walked to the shared room and started packing your items while Charles left the house to give you space.
what Charles doesn’t know is that you had been blessed with a gift, but for now that is just for you to know.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2021
Just 2 and a half years ago, on the 14th of February 2019, your baby girl was born into the world. Of course, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo knew about the pregnancy and promised to keep it a secret from him.
When you left the house, you were 2 weeks pregnant, you managed to settle in to an apartment nearby Arthur’s apartment due to safety reasons. You were glad that you’ve rarely bumped into Charles, because as of now you’re unsure if you would wanna let Charles know of the child that the both of you shared.
Pascale would constantly come over to provide assistance and you were glad she was there for you even when you aren’t apart of the family anymore.
Just a year after you’ve left, Charles had gotten in-to a relationship, Arthur would always talk to you about how she wasn’t you and it’ll end with you lecturing him on how he should’ve been happy for his brother instead of hating his relationship.
“she’s not you, y/n. she’s just so different” Arthur shouted across the living room while entertaining your daughter, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc.
Your lovely 2 and a half years old babygirl, Valentiné Aurore Hervé Leclerc, is the greatest gift to you, she was your strength and the reason you are still in this world.
Of course, you did struggled being a single parent but the support you’ve received from your family, friends and his family was never-ending.
“don’t say that thur, i’m sure she’s great and just shy. he’s happy, let him be thur” you lightly hit the back of Arthur’s head
“look baby val, your mum just hit me on the head” all val did was laughed and continued playing with the toys Enzo had gifted, with the exact same eye-smile Charles had
“would you ever let Charles know about val?” Arthur asked, taking a seat beside you
“of course, i wouldn’t mind because val deserves to know his dad too” you smiled while looking at your baby-girl playing
“though i prefer Charles to just be an uncle, rather than a dad. Furthermore she loves the existence of him, sooner or later she’s gonna call him papa”
“I’m glad you’ve found someone that truly treasure you, he’s a great person though you have to seriously stop dating drivers.”
the both of you laughed, and as you were speaking about him, you heard the keypad of your house door being key-ed in and just a minute later the door of your house opened.
“miiiiiicckkkkkkkkyyy” val dropped her toys and ran to mick.
mick placed his items on the counter top and picked up val, “how’s my favourite girl doing?” while giving kisses to your baby-girl
mick walked towards you and Arthur, “ thanks thur for your help, you’ve been nothing but nice to us”
“it’s alright mick, though i’ll prefer you to be away so val will start loving me more” arthur joked knowing before mick came into val’s life, arthur was her favourite uncle
“hello baby, I dropped by the restaurant and bought the soup that you were craving for, i hope it’s still hot though” Mick gave you a forehead kiss while holding val on the other arm of his.
Thur picked up his bags and said his goodbyes.
you are currently dating Mick Schumacher, the relationship has been since end 2020, you’ve met him when you were working at your cafe and happened to serve him and he happened to take a liking towards you. Mick knew of Charles and you history and have assured you that he does not really mind and he truly appreciate both val and you.
When val turned two years old, mick had brought her to one of val’s biggest dream place ever as all other kids calls it, Disneyland and spend the whole day with her and you’ve could see the look on val’s face that only lights up when she’s around Mick and realised that this was the man that you would want to build up your future with.
Charles knew about your relationship, with the presence of you you standing beside mick supporting him during the races.
You weren’t always there for the races but since it was mick’s first few races, you wanted it to be special for the both of you. Val was sleeping over at your best friend for the day, inviting her would’ve caused a huge mess between the both of you especially with the first glance of your daughter, anyone could tell she is related to Charles Leclerc.
Of course it was a surprise to him, leading him to text Arthur right after the both of you had a 5 minute conversation together.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2022 MONACO GP
“okay baby, stay by mama and don’t run anywhere else okay? papa is gonna be busy for a while and you’ll able to see him on this track” you were instructing val to not run away, val has turned out to be a daddy’s girl ever-since Mick came in-to her life, being away from Mick for a few days was torture to her(us), face-timing was the usuals for the three of us.
of course, hiding val on the way to the paddock was hard enough, you had to ask gina’s help which she did assist in and came by earlier than you and Mick in order to avoid the assumptions.
“but will papa see me here? will he wave at me and you, mama?”
you’re now carrying your daughter on your other arm, while she’s fidgeting with the lanyards around her neck.
“i’m not sure baby, papa’s car pass by super fast val. they’re faster than the cars we have at home,baby”
val nods her head and snuggled her head onto your neck, signalling that she was sleepy.
“baby, you sleepy? wanna head back to the room?” she agreed as she had spend her afternoon nap being awake following Mick around everywhere.
On the way to the haas paddock club, you were on your phone, single handedly texting gina if she could bring out the blankets that was in your bag as she was still at the club waiting for Mick’s team meeting to be done.
until you bumped on-to someone, and that someone just happened to be him.
just when you’re holding your daughter, what a great timing
“mama, why stop?” Val’s rubbing her eyes wondering and snuggling back on to your neck
“a moment baby, just get back to sleeping okay?” rubbing val’s back soothing her down to get her back to sleeping.
Charles was shocked yet confused on why you’re holding a child and the said child was calling you mama. Charles knew your relationship with Mick had just been ongoing for 3 years and he knew that the little girl that you were carrying is more than 3 years old, but what he didn’t know was that the little girl on your arm was his own daughter that he had no clue off.
“y/n, you’ve never told me you had a daughter?” charles stopped in his tracks and you could see behind him was arthur and lorenzo, with a shocked face.
“oh look charles, you’re late to your team meeting. Let’s go carlos is probably finding for you” enzo distracting him, but it was no help because he was still there staring at you and your daughter.
at this point you were looking at arthur for help but from the facial expression on arthur’s you knew he had zero plans to back you up.
“yeah haha it’s something i’ve kept private” you tried to walk away but he stopped you and take a look at val’s lanyard that was around her neck.
and one thing you didn’t realise was mick had given the staffs val’s full name to print out on her paddock pass, and that is when charles realised he has a daughter.
“valentiné aurore herve leclerc?”
oh yeah we are so fuck, by we it’s lorenzo, arthur and i.
you were looking at arthur and lorenzo with wide eyes.
“the both of you are aware of this?” charles turned to both of them and questioned the both of his brothers with disbelief
“it’s not their fault, i made them promised to not tell anyone”
“why didn’t you tell me? i am her father” at this point you could see people were curious on the conversation that was happening, because why would mick’s current girlfriend be seen having an intense conversation with Charles Leclerc?
“let’s talk later, she needs her nap. i’ll come over to arthur’s apartment and explain everything ” and charles knew that tone of your voice, the one where you would always use when you’re anxious or nervous and charles agreed on meeting you at arthur’s apartment
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
ARTHUR’S APARTMENT
Mick knew what had happened when you bumped you onto Charles, Mick wanted to accompany the both of you to Arthur’s apartment and be there for you while you explained things to Charles, and of course you agreed.
You knocked Arthur’s door, and you were greeted by pascale.
“i’m sorry darling, I tried but he was too persistent” she apologised to you, holding your hand giving you comfort
“it’s fine, it’s time i guess” you smiled at her
when you’ve reached Arthur’s living room you could feel the tension between the three brothers, you took a seat beside Arthur and Val automatically went to Arthur’s Lap.
Mick sat beside you, rubbing your back, calming down your nerves.
“val baby, come to papa. don’t bother uncle thur” mick called out to your daughter which she listened and walked over to Mick’s lap and mick carried her to arthur’s guest room which pascale followed behind.
Charles cleared his throat, “tell me from the start”
“when we broke off and i left, i found out I was 2 weeks pregnant”
“and you didn’t think of telling me?”
“it was hard Charles, i didn’t want you to stay with me just because i was carrying your daughter”
“continue” charles head in his hand, stressing over this situation
“i kept it of course as you can see, but please don’t blame it on lorenzo and arthur. i’ve made them swore they wouldn’t tell you, i didn’t wanna ruin your career. I was gonna tell you, just not now. I was thinking of telling you when val’s gonna understand the situation more. Mick knows about us and he was there for me for everything”
“I could’ve helped you, y/n. as a friend I could’ve helped you. she has my dna, she’s mine, i deserve to be in her life too, does she know?”
“she knows her father’s absence in her life, but she doesn’t know it’s you. we’ve never really talked about it”
“why the name? why did you used my last name, if you didn’t want me to be in her life y/n?”
“She’s apart of you, of course i had to include that and she looks exactly like you, no matter how much i refuse to believe’s she from you i had to accept it”
Charles walked over and sat beside you and held your hand.
“please let me be in her life. not as a father but as someone she deserves to know. i don’t mind Mick being her father, he deserves that title, but just let me be in my daughter’s life”
you agreed to charles, because as much as you disliked Charles, you didn’t want your daughter to grow up not knowing how does her biological dad looks like and starts questioning if she ever did something wrong.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2023
Charles took the time to get to know val more, Mick and you would allow Charles over to let him have his own time with his daughter or they would sometimes have a day to their own.
Val knew who charles were but wasn’t really keen in calling him papa, as for the past few years Mick was more of a father figure to her rather than Charles.
As much as Charles was disappointed, he understood where she was coming from but he was glad Val had accepted him in her life not as a father but as some she would like to keep close contact with.
As for you, you’ve still kept the news of you having a child private, though there were rumours speculating around which you didn’t really pay attention to but you felt that it wasn’t a need for you to go public that you had a love child with their favourite driver.
Mick’s gotten signed to Mercedes and since he was a reserve driver, he would spend most of the time at the paddock with val and val has never been much more happier being close to her papa.
She would sometimes be in the Ferrari’s building or Mercedes’. Of course other than P, and the other driver’s children’s, val is currently the favourite especially amongst Charles and Mick’s circles of friends.
You were glad that the heavy weight on your shoulders was lifted off. Though, it took you a while to let Charles know about val, it’s all sorted out and you’re glad.
—✩࿐ end note: thanks for reading! wanted to end it off more angst less fluff but dad! mick just warms my heart, i’m still finding for good ig post templates or twitter templates! other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading! ♥️
— NORRISREADS MASTERLIST (unupdated)
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ welcome to the grid, here are my works for the current drivers, req are closed, do refer to the guidelines before requesting once req are open 🩷
back to nav
f - fluff , a - angst , s - series
-͟͟͞☆ charles leclerc 16
━☆・*。style 1989 f a
“ midnight, you come back with no headlights”
━☆・*。illicit affairs f a
“he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one”
-͟͟͞☆ lando norris 4
━☆・*。seems familiar f smau
“a rising influencer known for her incredible taste in fashion, is suddenly seen shot w a similar helmet, is she the rumoured wag?”
━☆・*。sweetest pie series f smau
1 2
“y/n wolff, the eldest daughter of toto wolff who has been widely known by the formula one fanbase, has finally been spotted at the races but what happens when a certain mclaren driver took a liking towards just by one look?”
-͟͟͞☆ carlos sainz 55
━☆・*。the city of love f smau
“A well-known artist was spotted in Paris for business reasons. No one believed she was seeing someone until her vlog, which had glimpses of her and her lover, was made public. Many fans have claimed to have seen the artist hanging out with a particular F1 driver. Is this accurate?”
━☆・*。kiss me kiss me f smau
“everyone has a crush on carlos sainz, everyone including you”
━☆・*。dangerous woman series f a smau
taglist form: here
1 2 3 4
“being arranged married to carlos sainz, will the both of you work the marriage or will the next step be signing the divorce papers”
-͟͟͞☆ yuki tsunoda 22
━☆・*。 delicate f a smau
“inspired by delicate - taylor swift”
━☆・*。into you f smau
“words on the paddock seems to be thrown around fast yet silently because apparently yuki tsunoda has a girlfriend who’s loving the relationship to be kept lowkey!”
-͟͟͞☆ pierre gasly 10
━☆・*。set fire to the rain series f a
1 2
“your first love is hard to forget because it leaves an 'imprint' on the sensory areas of your brain”
-͟͟͞☆ mick schumacher 47
━☆・*。illicit affairs f a
“he was once the man you’ve always dreamed of, until one day a decision made drunkenly by him made you realised you were never the chosen one”
━☆・*。photograph f
“scrolling through photos, you’ve found some photos that holds great memory and can’t help but to reminisce the moment”
🔖taglist: form will be up soon
the cutest fucking thing i’ve read :’) everything belle writes is so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
sometimes all i think about is you !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they belong together and it seems like they're already a step ahead.
or
for when you find your humsafar. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - charles' version!!!! im so excited for this!!!! 2-3 more desi!readers coming out soon and then the next part of shoutout to my ex and then a new series for u all!!!! i love u, thank u so much for reading <3
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yourusername sometimes all i think about is you
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charles_leclerc late nights in the middle of june
9,637 comments
username THIS AFTER Y/N'S POST???????
username OH MY GOD
username u couldn't PAY me to deny that it's not y/n in the second slide
username this is life changing
username yeah!!! im just gonna stay here!!! and have a breakdown!!!
landonorris interesting 🤔
-> charles_leclerc i'll pay you to keep your mouth shut
-> username lando SPILL 🔥🔥🔥🙏🙏🙏🗣️🗣️🗣️
username y/n and charles leaving their enemies who are in love with each other era and entering their lovers who just argue over the stupidest things era
username they're clearing tell us something and im here taking several seats to listen to EVERYTHING
username im screaming
danielricciardo 🧐
-> charles_leclerc do i have to pay you too?
-> danielricciardo that would be appreciated 👍
username NOT CHARLES PAYING DANIEL AND LANDO HUSH MONEY
username no bc the lyrics speak VOLUMES
username im so normal about this (AHSHSJSJJSSUJAJ)
username OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️💔💔💔💔💔💔💔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
yourusername nice caption 😐😐 very original 😐😐
-> charles_leclerc i know, i'm creative, aren't i?
yourusername nice girl in the last slide 🔥🔥🔥
-> charles_leclerc not really, she's really mean to me
-> yourusername maybe if u weren't such a dumbass i wouldn't be mean to u ever think of that???? no u didn't bc AGAIN ur a dumbass
-> charles_leclerc ...is this about me eating your brownie again?
-> yourusername OF FUCKING COURSE IT IS ABOUT U EATING MY DAMN FUCKING BROWNIE
yourusername ur cool tho.
-> charles_leclerc thank you.
username are we gonna pretend that y/n herself didn't confirm that it was in fact her in the last slide?????
username oh im going crazy
username this is so much more entertaining that race weekends 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
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yourusername humsafar 💌 ( lover )
tagged charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc ma lune ( my moon )
tagged yourusername
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username MA LUNA CAN YOU HEAR ME CRYING
username I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
username childhood best friends to enemies to lovers we love to see it
username i just KNOW their families just breathed a HUGE sigh of relief
username im in love with these two and they don't even know i exist 💔💔💔
username MY parents back off y'all
landonorris you tripped in that last picture
-> charles_leclerc some things are meant to stay OFF the internet
-> yourusername that was hilarious
username im so normal about them :)
username ADOPT ME RIGHT NOW
username fucking finally the sexual tension was too much
arthur_leclerc I KNEW IT
-> charles_leclerc you didn't know shit
arthur_leclerc her dad owes me Money
-> charles_leclerc i don't even want to know
username NOT ARTHUR BETTING WITH Y/N'S DAD
username SHE'S SO PRETTY I SCREAMED
username nah they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourusername ur so ❤️
-> charles_leclerc you're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
yourusername we look so hot together
-> charles_leclerc yes we do 😘
yourusername meri jaan ( my life )
-> charles_leclerc ❤️
i haven’t stopped manically giggling ever since i read this
you got me thinking nonsense !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which heartbreak led to her real love and she'd be damned if she didn't make sure everyone knows that.
or
for when they're everything to you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
prequel - light as a feather ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - posting this i simply couldn't resist!!! i'll try my HARDEST to post carlos' version of shout out to my ex tonight but if not then tomorrow fs <3 thank u so much for reading, i love u <3
taglist - @marsdreamworld @eviethetheatrefreak @22yuki @incoherenciass @bb-swift @willowpains @lordperceval-16 (tagging all those who asked for part ii <3)
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by pierregasly, f1updates, exwagsclub and 79,726 others
paddock.club y/n y/l/n and charles leclerc spark dating rumours as they were seen out on a "date", which were further confirmed as the couple shared a kiss. for weeks, y/l/n and leclerc have been having coy and not-so-platonic interactions on social media and fans have speculated that these two are more just friends. this news comes after y/n's break up with a fellow driver of charles and while neither y/n or her ex have commented on this, it's clear that they didn't have a clean break up as there were rumours of cheating surrounding the ex. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
tagged charles_leclerc yourusername
589 comments
username LMFAOAOOA THE WAY LANDO ISN'T EVEN MENTIONED HERE
username "the ex" ur so right he's not worth mentioning 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
username olivia was talking abt lando when she sang "some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning"
*liked by oliviarodrigo*
username my true parents fr ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username she looks sooo happy with him im so happy for her
username love how none of yes are surprised like we all saw this coming
username the way l*ndo isn't even mentioned ONCE like that's what u get for cheating babes!!!!!!!!!
username CHARLES AND Y/N FUCK YEA
username she genuinely looks so much happier with charles like this is the type of relationship she deserved ❤️
username IM ❤️ SO ❤️ HAPPY ❤️ FOR ❤️ THEM ❤️
username no bc there was no way they thought that they'd be able to convince us that they weren't together
username istg i see one person comment some out of pocket shit im SWINGING
username l*ndo's crying rn like i can Feel it
username no bc HOW'D he pull 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username fr like u put him near y/n he starts malfunctioning
-> username no bc that one interview where he forgot his own team's name js bc y/n walked past him is LIVING proof
username i know the driver's gc is WILDIN rn
username see now idk who to be jealous of
-> username the only correct answer is both
username no bc IMAGINE THE SONGS SHE'LL WRITE ABOUT HIM!!!!!!
username pretty people (y/n and charles) ruining it for the ugly people (me) by getting together
username oh so he got GAME
username everyone bffr y/n was probably the one who took the initiative
username guys stop with all the l*ndo slander comments i can't like them all
username charles leclerc i will never forgive u for taking my wife
username im sooooOOOOooo normal about this. ha fucking ha.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,792,712 others
yourusername nonsense is now yours!!! i wrote this song on my very close friend's bedroom's floor and i can officially say that this is the most unhinged song i have ever written :) i love u all sooo much i could cry <3 (charles_leclerc be my personal photographer pls ❤️)
15,628 comments
username HELLO?????? PLEASE IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS SONG AND WHY IS IT MAKING ME CRY AND HORNY
username IM TALKIN OPPOSITE OF SOFT?????? Y/N?????????
username nah she's unhinged
username "on my very close friend's bedroom's floor" BABE WE KNOW
username how quickly can u take ur clothes off pop quiz 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔
-> username oh she's wild for adding this
username IN LOVE WITH THE OUTRO
username PLEASE touch some grass and meditate
georgerussell63 wish i never heard it but cool beats x
-> yourusername i too wish u never heard it but thank u russell george x
username i know sebastian texted her after this
*liked by yourusername*
username okayyyy so at least he's winning off the track
-> username OH UR SO WRONG FOR THIS
username at least my girl's getting some good dick y'all leave her alone
username im a changed woman after hearing this song
username u gotta keep up with me!!!!! i got some young energy!!!!!!! i caught the l-o-v-e!!!! why do u do this to me!!!!!!!
username i know charles is blasting the SHIT out of this sin anthem (encouraging)
-> username PLEASE NOT SIN ANTHEM
lilymhe when will you write a song like this about me :/
-> yourusername if u would like i can show u????
-> lilymhe i'm On my way!
-> alex_albon STOP I'M STILL HERE
-> yourusername alex look away
-> charles_leclerc i'm
-> yourusername u too babe look AWAY
-> username BABE
-> username DID SHE JS CONFIRM IT FR FR
username said u like my eyes????? AND u like to make them roll??????
-> username if someone said that to me i would be AT the altar in most white dress ever
username charles won at life fr
username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABT HOW GOOD SHE LOOKS IN THESE PHOTOS
-> username my heart stopped she's so barbie coded
charles_leclerc nice song
-> yourusername thank u
charles_leclerc any particular muse behind this?
-> yourusername js this cool guy i've been seeing
-> charles_leclerc "cool" huh? 😏😏😏😏🤪🤪🤪🤪🤗🤗🤗🤗🫡🫡🫡🫡🥶🥶🥶🥶😩😩😩😩🤧🤧🤧🤧☺️☺️☺️☺️😘😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰🥰😚😚😚😚
-> yourusername yes charles u are cool
-> username MY GOD SOMEONE TAKE AWAY THIS MAN'S PHONE
-> username y/n be honest does he blush and giggle when u call him a pet name????
-> yourusername what do u think
-> username I KNEW IT OMG
charles_leclerc if the person in front of the camera is you, i will gladly be behind the camera for the rest of my life.
-> yourusername the most romantic thing u have ever said to me
-> charles_leclerc that's not true
-> yourusername u called me a chameleon yesterday
-> charles_leclerc because you wear a different shade of eye colour everyday
-> yourusername eye shadow* baby
-> charles_leclerc okay :D
-> username WHO IS THIS MAN
-> username nah he's GONE for her
≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 1,538,976 others
charles_leclerc she wrote a song for me and while it wasn't the most romantic one, the sentiment is still appreciated. y/n, i adore you completely, even if you spend more time with my mom than you do with me. mon cœur ❤️ ( my heart )
tagged yourusername
12,629 comments
username im
username js gonna leave yeah (ABSHDHDJSJJSSJ)
username what do u MEAN charles is in love and what do u MEAN that it's not with me (i love them both sm)
username okayyyy she wrote how much she loves u and ur little thing that's the MOST romantic thing ever
-> username nah bestie given the way she wrote the song im not it's *little*
*liked by yourusername*
-> username GIRL PLEASE WHY ARE U LURKING
username i love them both so much
carlossainz55 you two make me nauseous but it's been a long time coming 🤍 happy for you both !!
-> charles_leclerc thank you for your approval <3
-> carlossainz55 had to make sure you'd treat her better 🤷
-> username "treat her better" is speaking VOLUMES
-> username i love carlos so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username y/n being the grid's favourite is my aesthetic 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
username I LOVE THEM SOOO MUCH THEY'RE MY PARENTS LIKE AJSJSKSKSJKSKKS
username "mon cœur" can u hear me SCREAMING 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username they genuinely deserve all the happy things in life like im SO fr
username ferrari better get their shit in order bc i know that if they fuck up again y/n is fr gonna destroy them and idk if that's gonna be by words or by a song or she's straight up gonna fist fight them
*liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and carlossainz55*
danielricciardo at least she writes you songs, she writes me threatening messages
-> yourusername U CALLED ME THAT MCDONALD'S CLOWN
-> charles_leclerc i'm not gonna intervene
-> danielricciardo BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE
-> yourusername THAT'S JS CHARLES NOT ME
-> charles_leclerc i am going to intervene
username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ about them
username i just fell to the floor what the fuck
username IM SOOOOOOOOO *cries*
lewishamilton 🫶🏼
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username i KNOW lando is pulling at his hair rn
username THAT NOTE OH MY GOD
username pls god when will it be me
username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
yourusername wdym "u said u like my eyes and u like to make em roll" is not romantic
-> charles_leclerc the most romantic thing i have ever heard in my eye
-> yourusername ❤️
yourusername i love ur mom
-> charles_leclerc i know
-> leclerc_pascale mon ange 😘
-> yourusername MAMA LECLERC ❤️❤️❤️
-> charles_leclerc and i'm right here...
yourusername cannot wait to write songs for u my entire life
-> charles_leclerc cannot wait to compose piano pieces for you 😘
-> username IM SCREAMING
-> username WHAT DO U MEAN HE COMPOSES PIANO PIECES FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username they're so
username i would give anything to have a love like that 😭😭😭😭😭
username im crying.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, lilymhe and 2,975,327 others
yourusername looking at u got me thinking nonsense!!!!!!!!!!! also special thanks to landonorris bc if not for him i wouldn't have met the love of my life so thanks dude even if ur a prepubescent piece of shit
tagged charles_leclerc
18,629 comments
username IM HOWLING WHAT THE FUCK
username THE TAG THE CAPTION
username prepubescent piece of shit will forever be engraved in my brain ❤️
username LMFAOAOAOAO
username y/n y/m/n y/l/n u will always be famous
username IM CRYINF WHAT THEBFUCK
lewishamilton both of you 💕
-> yourusername we love u lewis <3
username she will never let l*ndo live in peace and i love her sm for that
username i just cackled out loud why is she so funny
username SHE'S SOOOO UNSERIOUS
username i js know charles is MADLY in love with her bc HOW can u not be
username she's so unhinged. i love her.
username screaming
lilymhe i thought we were something
-> yourusername babygirl u own my heart and 4ever will
-> alex_albon wow.
-> charles_leclerc oh my god
username they're so adorable 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username THEM
username no bc charles deffo manifested this shit like imagine having a crush on someone for YEARS and then they date ur friend but the friend cheats on them and u end up together like woahh wildddd
-> username and then they write a song about u
-> username AND THEN THEY WRITE A SONG ABOUT U
oscarpiastri a scream just erupted from *his* driver's room
*liked by yourusername*
-> username target audience reached 🫡
username stop with the l*ndo hate comments i seriously CANNOT like them all
username i would do anything to go to a driver's meeting ANYTHING
maxverstappen1 nice caption
-> yourusername thank u :) an angry dutch proof read this
username max proof reading this caption is sooo funny like omg
-> username they're truly destroying his peace and i respect them so much
username i truly cannot wait for the next race
username NO BC DID SOMEONE SEE THAT CLIP WHERE NONSENSE PLAYED IN THE PADDOCK WHILE LANDO WAS THERE AND HE LOOKED SO 😒😒😒😒😒😒
-> username LMFAOAOAOA THAT WAS HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY
-> username truly a cinematic piece ❤️
charles_leclerc was the first photo necessary
-> yourusername absolutely like look at my man ❤️
charles_leclerc looking at YOU got ME thinking nonsense
-> yourusername stop im blushing
charles_leclerc i thought we'd be nice
-> yourusername no YOU'D be nice i'd be mean
-> charles_leclerc okay amour ( my love )
charles_leclerc i love you ❤️
-> yourusername i caught the l-o-v-e
-> yourusername i love you more ❤️
username IM SOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username charles and y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username me when.
Electric Love - CL16 x reader
mars’ notes: First off, wtaf??? i’m so so so happy that you guys liked my lando blurb that much, i was half distracted and incredibly anxious when i wrote it, so the fact that so many people like it is absolutely insane to me jnfruncr - anyways, here’s a cute little (not so little) Charles fic i had bouncing around in my head :) thank you @love-belle for listening to me ramble!! please please lmk what you think, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated <333
summary: 4 times Charles almost told you he loved you, and the one time he did.
warnings: none!! super fluffy (again)
———————————————————-
The first time Charles almost let those three precious words slip from his lips was during an unassuming pasta date the two of you had planned. You had gone to the grocery store earlier in the day, and had remembered the old, silver unused pasta maker that was stashed in the back of yours and Charles’ kitchen cabinet, and decided that it seemed like a good day to finally teach your boyfriend how to properly cook the Italian staple. You’d come home in a flurry of excitement, bags dangling from your arms and a bright smile on your face, stating that you were going to teach him how to cook so well that he’d rival Yuki Tsunoda, teasing that maybe that way he’d be able to get Pierre over to his house for a dinner date as well. He’d smiled, grabbed the bags from your hands and set them down on the kitchen counter, before winding his arms around you and kissing you softly, telling you that he missed you and couldn’t wait.
You were too full of excitement to wait any longer, turning on the old radio in the corner of the kitchen, the sound of an old 1950s love song filling the space whilst Charles got two glasses and a bottle of red wine from the rack in the living room. Once your glasses were full and your hands had been washed, you’d dragged him over to the kitchen counter and thrust a “kiss the cook” apron into his hands, instructing him to put it on so he wouldn’t get flour all over himself. He’d asked whether you had a matching one, to which you replied that you’d done this far too many times to spill any flour and that your outfit would be ruined with it. He’d let his eye roam your figure, taking in the sweatshirt you’d stolen from him yesterday, claiming it smelt like him, along with the cute giraffe print pyjama bottoms you adored so much; your hair clipped back messily, sleeves pulled up to your elbows, and Charles swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful.
He was elbow deep in dough before he knew it, hands sticky with egg yolk and flour, the substance sticking to his skin despite how hard he was trying to pull it off. You were standing next to him, your own ball of dough perfectly rolled and kneaded, hands free of any lingering blobs of dough. A piece of hair had fallen into your face, and you’d used your shoulder to attempt to push it back behind your ear again, huffing when it returned to block your vision. Something had just felt so right - he could imagine doing this after a hectic race weekend, coming home to you making a fresh batch of pasta to go with his favourite white sauce, love songs in the background and wine glass in hand. He thought of you standing at this very kitchen counter, flour smudged on your face as you taught a mini version of you how to knead dough, and how to use the pasta machine that he knew was going to come very close to sucking in his fingers.
“Charlie? You ok, my love? Pasta isn’t that hard to make, baby, you just need more flour.”
You’d looked over to catch him staring at you, cheeks red and eyes glazed, and it took everything in him to not spit out how much he loved you. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops, post it on every social media platform, say it over and over until your heart was beating as fast as his was. He watched as you leaned over, sprinkling more flour onto his hands, and all he could do was smile.
————————-
The second time Charles almost confessed the inner workings of his heart was during a race weekend - Spa, to be exact. Spa was a race that was heavy with memories, good and bad. Antoine’s ghost still lingered at every corner, and the cheers of the 2019 crowd still rang in his ears during his track walk. It was a weekend that stirred up a plethora of emotions, contrasting and deep, and it weighed on him. He’d made it a point to leave flowers for his friend every year, joining Pierre alongside the track when they went to pay their respects. This would be the first time you would be by his side, at your insistence. He’d told you countless times that it was he was perfectly fine with just Pierre for company, that you didn’t have to drag yourself out there with him and get soaked, but you wouldn’t back down.
“I don’t care whether it’s storming or if people are passing out from the heat, Charles Leclerc, I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not. You’ve gone through enough on your own, and I’m not letting you do it again, not while I’m here.”
He’d stood in silence, gaping at you until your expression faltered and your hands fell from their resting place on your hips. You were halfway through stammering an apology, explaining that you just didn’t want him to be going through that alone, that you were always there for him when he surged forward and kissed you, hands cradling your face.
He was so overwhelmed in that moment, thoughts of Antoine floating through his head, a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that it could be his turn this weekend, that he’d never get to tell you how he feels. He pulled back, thumbs brushing over your delicate cheeks, lips forming the words, when suddenly,
“Charles! You have a press conference in 5! Get a move on!”
Fred’s voice broke through the bubble, and you both jumped, startled by the shout. A weight settled in his chest, Charles desperately looking back at you, hoping that what he didn’t have a chance to say was evident in his eyes. You smiled back at him as if to say “me too”, and that was the end of that.
————————-
The third time was during family dinner. His mother had invited the two of you, along with Arthur, Lorenzo and their respective partners, over to her cosy house in Monaco for an evening meal. You had spent the last thirty minutes stressing over whether or not you looked good enough to meet “the woman who gave birth to the prince of Monaco” and thirty minutes before that stressing over which wine to take, if any. Once a good enough Chardonnay had been chosen (a 20 year old bottle you had been gifted by your boss and had deemed too fancy to just open over a plate of pasta at home), and your hair curled and make up painted to perfection, you turned to look at Charles, smiling, shooting him a “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” and he couldn’t help but laugh.
The drive to his mother’s house was fairly uneventful, with him humming along to a French song playing on the radio, one hand on the wheel and the other situated on your thigh, slipping in between the slit of cherry red, silk dress you had chosen for the occasion. The windows were down, the wind whipping through your hair, and you were smiling and singing along with him, a pretty picture of contentment.
You had calmed down by the time the two of you had reached the front door, confident enough to greet his mother with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, laughing when she said that you looked “absolutely amazing, chèrie”. You had bantered with his brothers, giving as good as you got, helped set the table and pick the music, and had even taken over Arthur’s babysitting duties, spending time playing dolls with his little nieces. Looking at how well you fit in with his family made Charles’ heart beat out of his chest. He felt a hand on his arm, and turned to see his Maman standing next to him, a light smile on her lips.
“She’s the one, my boy.” she said, and all Charles could do was nod in agreement, quietly saying the words,
“I think I love her, maman.”
Pascale simply smiled, and turned to walk back to the kitchen.
————————
He actually got through the first word and a half the fourth time. It seemed like whenever Charles actually got the opportunity to tell you he loved you, something or the other interrupted him, and this time was no exception. He never thought he would end up here, in a dingy club bathroom, wine stain on his brand new white shirt, and you standing by the sink laughing at him.
He had just won the Australian GP, Carlos coming in a close second, and Daniel stealing the third step of the podium. The season had started well for the team, and in natural Ferrari fashion, they had all gotten dressed up and found their way to the nearest club. Drinks flowed, partners were found and dragged to the dance floor, sweaty bodies pressed so close that it was hard to figure out who was who. He had been walking back from the bar, his and your drinks in hand, making his way back to his fellow drivers and you in a pretty black dress you’d picked out earlier in the day, when someone had bumped into him, wine spilling and staining his shirt. You’d turned at the noise that escaped his throat, an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal, and had kept a straight face for all of three seconds before you were laughing.
You’d taken the now empty glasses from his hands, set them down on the table and looped your arm through his, pulling him in the direction of the bathrooms.
“You know, now might not be the best time for a quickie, mon ètoile, my shirt is soaked.”
You had simply looked back at him, and told him that that was “even more reason to get that shirt off him”, your tone insinuating that you wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort. Once in the bathroom, the door locked and lights on, you’d beelined for the tissues, soaking them in a little water and soap before turning back to him with a determined look in your eyes. Instructing him to hold still, you’d taken to trying to scrub the stain out, armed with tissue that was on the verge of disintegrating. He knew the stain wasn’t going to budge, a voice that sounded like his mother’s telling him that he’d need hydrogen peroxide or vinegar at the very least, but he let you grip his shirt regardless, perching himself on the lip of the sink and pulling you closer to stand in between his legs. His eyes roved over your face, taking in the slight crease in between your eyebrows, and your teeth biting at your lower lip. There was something so endearing about the way you looked trying to rub something as stubborn as a wine stain out of his clothes that made him want to never let you go.
Tell her now, you idiot, who cares if you’re in a club bathroom, it’ll make for an interesting story to tell your kids later, he thought to himself.
“Ma chèrie?”, he waited for you to look up from his shirt before continuing, “I lo-“
“Charles! Did you manage to get that wine out yet? We’re waiting to order the next round of shots, mate, hurry up!”
The banging on the door, combined with his teammate’s voice, had interrupted him, the moment well and truly over. He grumbled to himself, something about never having a moment of peace, before looking up at you, nodding his head towards the direction of the door.
There was always next time.
————————-
It had been a quiet moment, just you and him somewhere on the coast of Monaco, yacht rocking with the waves, peaceful. The day had started the way it usually did, the sun streaming into his eyes as you curled into his side, screwing your eyes shut in a vain effort to try and sleep a little longer. He’d kissed you, slow and soft, before whispering a hushed good morning, smiling when he got a sleepy mumble in response. He’d pushed himself up to lean against the headboard, with you whining as he jostled you, only quieting down when he pulled you back into the warmth of his arms. The two of you had stayed there for another half an hour, drifting in and out of consciousness before your stomach rumbled, effectively declaring that it was time to get out of bed and start working on breakfast. Charles knew you didn’t usually like to eat in the mornings, claiming that it made you feel slightly nauseous, but that you were an absolute sucker for a good cup of coffee and waffles, so he set out to make exactly that whilst you were in the shower.
It was not going well, to say the least. He’d even pulled up a waffle recipe on his phone, specifying to Google that he needed one that was beginner friendly. It had started out well, with him grabbing all the ingredients listed, even going so far as to grab the measuring cups you used when you baked the vanilla cookies he loved so much; and then he actually had to start putting everything together. He’d ended up cracking the first egg with far too much force, causing it to spill all over his hand, with slivers of the shell ending up in the bowl below. Once he had fished out the infuriatingly small pieces out of the egg mixture and added the milk, he got to work measuring out the flour, only to misjudge how heavy the bag was, and spilling it all over the counter and himself. He was stood stock still, face stuck in disbelief when you had walked in, freezing as you took in the scene unfolding in your kitchen.
“Oh, my love” was all you’d managed to get out, before you were making your way over to him, brushing your thumb across his cheek and saying “You’ve got a little something there.”
Once the breakfast disaster was cleaned, and you had taken over to make edible waffles, the two of you had migrated to the living room, curling up on the couch under your favourite fluffy blanket, armed with snacks to start a movie marathon. Sundays during summer break were reserved for snacking on salted caramel ice cream and brain-rotting romcoms, and it was tradition for you and Charles to bicker over which movie was put on first. Charles knew he would give in after the first minute of arguing, when you pulled out the big guns and flashed a sweet smile at him, and today was no different. He was glad it was no different.
The day had passed in a haze of kisses, sweet fruit and good wine. The weather was beautiful, wonderfully warm with a light breeze, and Charles had stated that it was the perfect night for a picnic under the stars on his yacht, ushering you in the direction of your room, telling you to get dressed. He grabbed a few more bottles of the wine you had been loving in the last couple of days, cutting up fruits and cubes of cheese for your impromptu picnic, before packing it all up into a small basket you could take with you. You’d come out of the bedroom in a white summer dress, and Charles felt his heart stop at the sight of you. You looked ethereal, like his own personal angel, and he told you as much, before gently taking hold of your hand and leading you to his car, picnic basket in hand.
You had been out on the water for an hour or so when you had leaned into Charles, your head resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his. He’d looked down at you and smiled, all dimples and warmth, before leaning down and kissing you softly, his lips just brushing over yours. You’d settled in and were sharing your second bottle of wine, looking up at the stars and talking about everything and nothing, the topic of your conversation ranging from who could find the most constellations to new recipes you wanted to try out the next time you had the chance. Charles was watching you ramble about a new cake recipe that you’d seen (or was it pie? He was hardly paying attention, too caught up in the way your eyes lit up and the way your cheeks flushed) when he just blurted it out.
“I love you.”
You had stopped midway through your sentence, words suddenly sticking to the inside your throat as you gazed up at him. He was looking at you with glazed eyes, the stars reflected in them, and panicking because what if you didn’t say it back? What if he had misread the situation so badly and had ended up ruining a perfectly good day because he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself like-
“I love you too.”
And just like that, the breath was knocked out of his chest. You loved him. Him, Charles Leclerc, you loved him. He wanted to hear those words every single day, every morning when he woke up, every night before he went to sleep, every day for the rest of his life.
“Say it again”, he begged, needing to make sure you were really saying that you loved him, and this wasn’t just some sick, twisted dream, a figment of his imagination. You repeated it in hushed whisper, again and again, watching as the dimpled smile you had come to adore grew on his face, before pushing yourself up and kissing him again.
Yes, today had been the perfect day.
i wanna write so bad but uni is already looking so so long 😭😭 send me requests for any f1 drivers so i can write blurbs!!! i’ll write anything :p mwah love ya!!
OK IVE GOT SEVEN (7) REQUESTS TO WRITE LETS FUCKING GO!!!!!!!!
You and I, Forever. - C.L
the one where you and charles navigate his high-end career while trying to stay loyal with eachother from a long distance. which proves to be harder for one certain party.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!actress!reader, f1 drivers x fem!reader
word count: 4.6k
warnings: ANGST, LIKE HARDCORE ANGST, CRYING, YELLING, SWEARING, CHEATING, DRINKING, ASSHOLE CHARLES
PART 2
It was Heaven on Earth.
Waking up and being able to turn your head to your left, (the right was your side always has been) and seeing his face. Sleeping peacefully, stress-free. These were the few moments of relaxation and quiet the two of you got in your busy lives. The slow mornings in Monaco kept you sane in the day.
And you savoured them, every day.
You and Charles had been together since as long as you could remember.
Well that may not be entirely accurate but that’s how you felt.
The two of you had been introduced to each other at Lando’s birthday party. You had been best friends with Lando since the day you shouted in his face at the go-kart track at the age of 6 for kicking your tires, which, according to him, had been entirely accidental. Which of course didn’t rest well with you as you continued to berate him about being rude. And when instead of shouting back he broke down in tears and apologized profusely you couldn’t help but apologise.
The rest of the day you spent clung to eachother’s side after a long period of back and forth apologies and hugs. From that day forward you too had been inseparable or however the cliché goes. And when you had ran to his home at the age of 13 with the biggest smile on your face and rambled on about how you had landed a role in the Marvel Cinematic Universe as Nick Fury’s niece who ended up with powers - he was your number one supporter. Every night he would call you no matter the time zone. He read lines with you, everything.
And at the age of 17 when your character, Emery, died during Winter Soldier he was there to console you. He helped you get on your feet and continue to audition for roles. Which resulted in you landing multiple roles, including American Horror Story, Peaky Blinders as well as The Fantastic Beasts Trilogy which resulted in the two of you fangirling over Harry Potter. You were all ways there for each other. But over the years with both of your growing success and blossoming careers your relationship strained over time.
So when you received the invitation in your email last year while sitting around on the set of Outer Banks you lunged at the idea of seeing your ‘Little Lando.’ as you liked to call him even when he threatened to run you over with his very own Formula One car.
Which was how you ended up at his 21st Birthday in Brazil, Rio. There the two of you spent practically the entire night catching up with each-other and eachother's lives. Minutes turned to hours in the span of seconds in your head. It was only when Carlos, Daniel and Luisnha (I miss you come back) made their way towards the two of you with the other guests in tow did you realize how long the two of you had spent together.
“Happy Birthday Little Lando!” You beamed as everyone else laughed at the nick-name, which Lando was very much not.
“Oh shut it.”
As he blew out the candles and everyone cheered you realized there was no knife, utensils or plates to eat with. And when you offered you were met with Daniels laugh and “We’ll eat with our hands, caveman style!”
Which was met with protests by every girl in attendance. And surprisingly Pierre. “What? I don’t want to get my outfit dirty.”
As you left you could hear the teasing remarks thrown towards Pierre, which brought a smile on your face. The party was smaller than what you’d expect, but mostly due to the fact Lando had thrown a huge party the night before which also explained the fact that no one was drinking since everyone was probably still 75% tequila at the time. And you liked this. The music wasn’t too loud, the DJ, well there was no DJ.
There was the cheap knock-off DJ Lando instead.
Lando claimed the reasoning for not having a DJ being that “I want this to be small, fun. And some rando mashing music and pumping his fist in the air is not what I want.” But everyone knew he wanted to be the DJ, not because they asked but by the fact that no normal non-DJ had huge 5 foot speakers and thousands of dollars of equipment just laying around.
As you opened up cabinets collecting everything you heard a cabinet behind you open. “Guess we both had the idea for collecting plates and all huh?” He had spoken as you turned to be met with a joyful Charles gripping onto 10 or so plates with utensils stuffed in his pockets. Which was a great sight, according to you and the fact that it took every bone in your body to not just start bursting out with laughter at the sight in front of you.
“I guess we did!”
“What’s that Western saying? Great people think the same?”
You giggled as you smiled back, “Something like that.”
After the cake cutting and all the rest of the night was spent laughing, dancing and skinny dipping. In that order. All night. Only the drivers and their girlfriends stayed back since most of them were staying in Rio for the race but the rest of his friends were returning back home in the next day or two. So after a few tearful goodbyes (mostly because of the alcohol as well as the fact that it would most likely be a while until they were all together again) the rest of you were knocked out. The yacht was more than big enough to accommodate all 20 or so of you.
Originally, Lily, Carmen and you were going to sleep together but the two of them ended up passed out in bedrooms with their boyfriends. Lando and Luis were together, somewhere, Isa and Carlos and so on. And since someone up there had it out for you, Charles and you ended up sharing. Which you were now eternally grateful for since that resulted in drunken thoughts and late night talking.
(harry styles reference there 😏)
In the morning the pair of you had to explain to Carlos, Daniel, Max and Pierre (which is seriously the worst quartet to find the two of you) how you ended up with your dress hanging on for life whilst draped over the window sill which lead to a very watery grave if it was windy but thankfully the deck was below. And not only that but how your bra ended up falling on Lando’s face as he was calling the two of you the night prior to let you know that Luishna and himself were sleeping on the hammock. And (yes there’s somehow more) how your thong ended up stuffed in the back pocket of Charles’s jeans, which were fully displayed on the floor.
And if that was bad, Lando’s reaction made theirs's seem like they welcomed the two of you as a couple with open arms.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Charles, my best friend! You fucked my best friend on my birthday! While I was 5 feet away? And you. Didn’t think I forgot about you Y/n did you? Why the hell would you do that to me? One of my best mates. What is wrong with the two of you?”
After that bombshell it took quite literally everyone else on the yacht besides Charles and yourself to calm him down. After he did it took you about three hours after those 2 hours of cool down time to explain to him that it was perfectly normal for people to hook up, but it wasn’t exactly like that with the two of you. You told him how you and Charles talked. For hours after everyone went to bed. About every and anything. Pain. Love. Family.
You were yearning to learn anything you could about him and he was the same.
You had never felt this way before. You’d heard about him before, and like everyone else who had any clue about Formula One as well as the Charles Leclerc you wanted to know more. And you learnt so much more.
From his favourite food to his best friends to his biggest regrets and so on. You told him everything too, from your favourite food, to friends to regrets. You felt at ease with him. His eyes calmed you in a way you had never known. The feeling of lying your head on his chest and listening to him laugh thrilled you.
Even if it took a few blank stares and a bit of awkward silences for the rest of the day Lando eventually came around to the idea of the two of you together.
“Mon amour? Es-tu debout?”
Are you up?
“Mm-hm.”
“Good.”
“Nous devons nous préparer. Je dois aller travailler et toi aussi.”
We have to get ready, I have work and so do you.
“Je sais, donne-moi juste une minute pour te regarder dans le soleil.“
I know, just give me a minute to look at you in the sun.
“Charles!”
“Mon ange tu es absolument magnifique pouvez-vous me reprocher de vouloir regarder?”
Mon ange you look absolutely gorgeous, can you blame for wanting to stare?
“You’ve been staring at me every morning for the past 2 years get over it.” You giggled as you made an attempt to get up, which was foiled as he pulled you back into bed, snuggling his nose into your neck.
“First of all our 2 year anniversary is actually in 9 days. It’s only the fourth of November. Secondly, Je ne t'oublierai jamais mon amour. Jamais.”
I’ll never get over you my love. Never.
“You’re cheesy. Now get up and get dressed babe.” You said as you kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the bathroom.
You were dressed, showered and clean.
Charles had just stumbled into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He threw on a hoodie and sweats, grabbed his bag, slipped his shoes on and was sitting on the bed scrolling on Instagram.
You were putting on mascara when he came behind you and slung his arms around your neck per usual as he rested his head on yours.
“God you’re gorgeous.” He gushed. “Thank you monsieur.” - Mister.
“Mister? Oh so I’m mister now huh?” He said as he grinned before tickling your sides.
“Oh! O-okay I’m sorry! Charles- Ah!” You couldn’t stop laughing as you swatted his arms with your hairbrush before he finally stopped. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But at least you learnt your lesson right?” He smiled before getting slapped on the back of his head, “Merde! Ow.” - Shit
“C’mere.” You said as you kissed his cheek. “Seriously? You didn’t even brush your hair.” You spoke disappointed in him. Bracing your hairbrush you softly pushed him back to sit on the countertop before brushing it out.
These were the moments you cherished. The sweet ones. The ones in which nothing mattered besides the man standing in front of you with the stupid grin on his face as he made inappropriate jokes after being told to fuck himself to which he combatted with “Why fuck my self? Especially when you can fuck m-”
After a few more minutes of messing around and scolding your boyfriend for purposefully messing up his hair again You finally ended up in the car and off to your respective destinations. You were in Maranello for a movie shoot and Charles was here to work as well, but it was your last day in Maranello as now, ironically enough you were off to Mexico for the film. You had tried to get the production team to move the dates around and film in Mexico first so that you could support Charles but that didn’t go anywhere.
He dropped you off at the airport but not before embarrassing you as you were waiting to grab a coffee as he shouted across the security check-in in Italian, “Ti amo così tanto mia colomba. Sei fantastica e la migliore ragazza che potrei chiedere. Buona fortuna al lavoro!”
I love you so much my dove. You are amazing and the best girlfriend I could ask for. Good luck at work!
Which would have been fine despite the fact that he didn’t say it in his own language, French, he spoke in Italian. While in the middle of an Italian Airport. Which (Lucky you) had Italian fans of Ferrari as well as yours around who had to film it. Now you were lying, it wasn’t that embarrassing, you admired his love for you, it just would’ve been better in private.
But then again how could Charles upset you?
After the exhausting 13 hour flight as well as hour spent on the plane waiting for the Jetway to be attached to the plane after difficulties beforehand and then the 2 hours it took for baggage claim and security?
Safe to say you were done for the day.
On the way back you couldn’t help but grin. Your interaction a the airport with Charles had gone viral, Tiktok, Instagram everything. The comments made your heart swell and even on Twitter the two of you were trending.
You even reposted the interaction from a fan of yours and tagged Charles. Seeing your fans being so civil with each other made you happy. At first the two of you were about 2 months into the relationship and had no clue how your fans would take it. Especially the more, uhm, passionate, (crazy) ones you could say.
The next couple of days were a blur, Wake up at 4:30 am.
Out of the house by 5 am, 3-4 hour to two hour long breaks and lunch breaks.
Work until 11:00 pm.
It was a tedious process but being surrounded with so many great people and friends made it all better.
13th November, Lando’s Birthday.
Also Charles and your 2 Year Anniversary.
You were depressed the entire day. The set was currently closed due to a Covid scare from a Crew Member which resulted in the delay of production for over 2 weeks. Which was okay with you, but you told you couldn’t travel until the Crew Member tested negative which was what you were told yesterday. And the crew member, Emery, had texted you saying she was negative, encouraging you to fly to Charles to support him.
And after a few discussions with your own team and other actors who were apparently flying back to their family for Thanksgiving, which you didn’t celebrate since you were British. And again after debating with your team and doing a bit of research yourself of price tickets for flights you decided to treat yourself with a private jet instead.
If your boyfriend has a jet and he offers it, what are you supposed to say?
No?
Hell no. Or uh, hell yes! You boarded on Tuesday night around 11:00 pm since you had called Arthur to have the plane brought over only about 20 hours before. So on short notice a night time flight was the best idea.
You arrived at the hotel Charles was staying at around 9 in the morning. Charles was already gone and you decided to settle in then. You unpacked your overnight bag as you found it unnecessary to pack a lot if you were returning a few days later. Plus you could always buy more clothes if needed.
Security escorted you to the grid as you tried to draw the least amount of attention and Eleven bodyguards weren’t exactly the best way to stay out of the spotlight. So you resorted to only 2 bodyguards, both women, both dressed in merch, same as you. You came through the fan area rather than drivers/workers. And once you had made it through Charles’s PR manager directed you to hospitality and to Carlos’s driver room where you stayed for the race.
You were planning on surprising him at the race but seeing your boyfriend on top of the podium and having champagne sprayed on him from multiple directions had you dying on the inside because of how fucking gorgeous he looked. So you opted for surprising him at the party instead.
It was around 5:23 pm and Charles went straight from the track to his hotel room whilst you were still at the paddock, waiting for Isa so the two of you could go out for a very late lunch, and by ‘out’ you meant the Williams Hospitality since Lily was there and Alex had an amazing P6 finish, so all of you were in great moods. A bit of calm before the storm. The storm being the absolute insanity of Celebration Parties.
“I still don’t get why you didn’t go out there. If Carlos was on the podium look like a fucking Greek, or in the boys’ case, Monegasque and Spanish Gods? I would’ve probably jumped on Carlos in front of everyone.” Isa joked as you smiled. “You kinda did. You forgetting this was a 1-2 finish or something?”
“Oops, guess I forgot.” “How could you forget? I certainly didn’t, I still remember all the things you promised to do to m-” Isa slapped Carlos’s arm, “Carlos! Jesus shut it!” Isa blushed as she buried her head in her hands.
“Ai, I’m kidding mi amor.” Carlos sweetly smiled as he kissed her forehead. “The party has already started. Everyone’s making their way over to Le Ana’s Pub, Club whatever. Want us to give you a ride? We might be a little late since I need to change and Isa wants to as well.” You nodded, wanting to change from the jeans and white corset top which to be honest was starting to constrict your airways.
The pair of them got into their car and pulled around to the private exit in order to avoid anyone noticing you were present. By the time you pulled in, changed and were all ready it was around 8. All three of you decided to take showers and Carlos and Isa might have started to fool around a bit.
Early celebrations meant for late nights.
It took your trio over 35 minutes to get Le Ana. Yes it was 20 minutes away but Carlos was already slightly tipsy and so was Isa. The two of them coincidentally forgot their wallets/purses about 10 minutes in. And then the two of them needed McDonalds even though you told them they could get food at the club instead.
You felt amazing.
You were wearing a gorgeous Ferrari red bodycon dress which looked amazing too.
So imagine how you felt when you walked in shortly behind Carlos and Isa after trying to explain to Valet that the red Ferrari was in fact yours but since he was a stupid 50 year old man who refused to believe in a women being able to afford such a car you decided to park yourself. And after talking to the word ‘headache’ personified you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend, quite literally glowing under the flashing lights in Champagne, with the biggest grin on his face whilst brushing strands of hair behind an insanely beautiful woman’s ear.
You felt like scratching your dress off. The air in the room was apparently non-existent since you couldn’t grasp the concept of breathing. Your chest was closing in on your heart, clawing at it, attacking her.
Just as Charles was attacking the neck of the woman on his lap. His hands hastily making their way up her thigh, as if time was running out for him. As if someone was holding a stopwatch, timing his swift actions.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and you swatted it away immediately. Letters were trying to form in your head as whoever was with you had words spewing out of their mouth like a fountain. Although, you were quite content with the idea of letting those words, that fountain drown you then and there.
But of course someone was again laughing at you from up there. Your life literally seemed like a movie. A novella. Just as the couple got settled, BOOM! Curveball. Right now you felt like banging your head against a curb instead.
“Y/n!”
You finally let the words sink in.
“Are you okay? Took you a while to get here, no?”
Turning to your right you were met with a smiling Pierre. He himself had reasons to be happy. He somehow managed to finish P3. Max and Lewis had managed to take themselves out at turn 3, along the way Daniel locked up, causing his collision with barriers at a very unlucky time as Lando was coming speeding round and managed to also get caught up in the pile up. This gave the best of the rest a chance to snag some very pretty points up.
“Y/n/n? What is i-” Pierre’s jaw was most likely broken at the speed it dropped open. “Oh that little fucker!” Those words managed to bring you back to reality as you watched Pierre walk over to Charles, and you sure as hell didn’t miss how his hands were now in fists.
You ran after him of course, but didn’t catch up in time as when you got there the woman your boyfriend was with was now standing to the side, eyes glossy and her hands clapped over her mouth. A crowd was beginning to draw in as Pierre yelled at his best friend.
“Vous plaisantez j'espère? Es-tu tellement ivre que tu ne réalises pas que cette salope n'est pas ta petite amie? Putain, réponds-moi! Je me fiche que tu sois ma meilleure amie, elle est aussi ma meilleure amie. Je jure devant Dieu que je vais te botter le cul Charles!”
Are you kidding me? Are you so drunk you don't realize that bitch isn’t your girlfriend? Fucking hell answer me! I don't care if you're my best friend, she's also my best friend. I swear to god I'll kick your ass Charles.
Daniel, Carlos and George were there in an instant, pulling Pierre off of Charles whilst the rest of the drivers and team members were dispersing the crowd. “What the hell is going on? Pierre what the fuck!” Daniel shouted as the party was back in swing, music blaring, people dancing etc.
“That little fuck head was groping some random chick while Y/n was standing across the room!” Pierre explained whilst trying to not lunge at his best friend.
“Seriously Charles?” Daniel asked as Charles felt himself turn red, “Yeah.” He managed to mumble before Daniel scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you? Just because you’re drunk doesn’t mean you go around kissing random girls when you’ve been in a relationship for over 2 years!”
You didn’t know what to do. You were just standing there, as Charles desperately tried to make eye contact with you. Which was difficult since Pierre was right next to you staring daggers into his head. Everybody was shouting. And honestly the only voice you wanted to hear right now was Charles. You felt like he should apologize after everything at least. No, he owed you an apology.
“Charles.”
Somehow that managed to shut everyone up. The miracle was mostly how everyone managed to hear you.
“No need to shout I’m right here.” Oh.
“Outside. Now.” And that had him up on his feet. Good. He still remembered when you weren’t asking.
You were hoping the wind would help ease you. And you were right. As you leaned over the balcony you felt the cool breeze blow through your hair. Almost as if it was being brushed.
“You wore the dress I got you.”
You chuckled, “Yup, I decided to wear it to surprise you. Back when we still loved each other. When we were loyal. Do you remember those days? Or has that model managed to erase me? Our memories together?”
“Don’t say that. You know that’s not true.”
“Actually I don’t. I left you, for only a few days. And it only took you two bottles of champagne and an hour without me to forget the two years of us being together. The love we shared. The early mornings. The late nights where it was just us, staring at each other, while nothing else mattered when we had one another. The lazy days where we lounged around, watched movies, cooked together, laughed together, everything. Together.”
“Y/n please.”
“You remember our 6 month anniversary? We were sitting in the park, there was nobody around. The sun was setting and we were having the best time. Low music playing, you read to me, with that stupid smile on your face as you couldn’t stop laughing at my singing. The sprinklers turned on and we laughed, you put the book away and looked at me for a bit, then you pulled me in and told me-”
“Toi et moi, pour toujours.“
“You and I, forever.”
“Or our one year anniversary? We watched Christmas movies in front of the fire place? In the morning we work up and there were fire place ashes everywhere?”
“Y/n, I didn’t mean it. I promise. You know me, you know me! I love you please, please don’t do this. 2 years, 2 years of you and me. And that’s not enough. I need more, I love you so much you don’t know. I was lonely and I know that’s not an excuse but-”
“You’re right. It’s not an excuse. If you were lonely you could’ve called. You know I would pick up straight away. No matter where I was. And if I didn’t? Well that’s not possible, I always do. That’s how much I love you. I would drop everything for you. But you would never do the same for me!”
“I would! Mi amor I would. Anything! Everything. You mean more than-”
“Racing?”
“What?” Charles looked as if you had slapped him, which you were about 4 seconds from doing so.
“Racing. I believe you would give up everything. But would you give it up? Racing? Formula One or me? You’ve always put me in second place, I always put you first. This can’t work Charles. I need someone who treats me the same way I treat them.”
“I treat you like a fucking princess! I get you everything you want, whenever you want. Jewellery, dresses everything! And you can’t even get over me focusing on my career are you fucking joking?”
You didn’t know when your laughs turned to sobs but they did.
“Y/n, I- fuck. I’m drunk okay? A-and I don’t mean it.”
“Please, Charles.” You sobbed as he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kissed your stomach.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He mumbled as he continued kissing you.
“No stop, stop, stop it. I can- can’t breathe. Please let me go.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll do anything, please.”
You got his arms off you as he got to his feet, “I can’t. Charles, I wish you the best I really do. I love you.” You said as you pulled him in, on your tip-toes kissing his forehead as tears rolled down his cheeks.
You pulled away, knowing that if you stayed any longer he’d probably convince you to stay with him.
“I’m sorry.”
And then and there your heart shattered. Walking away from him, you didn’t turn back. Even though your heart was begging you, one last look. Even when you heard his sobs, as much as you felt like running back, kissing him, hugging him, telling him the two of you could work it out, you continued walking away.
Charles was slumped on the floor, knees to chest as he mumbled into his knees.
“You and I, forever.”
The second you got into your car you cried. Panic attack after panic attack, you felt like screaming.
Your last straw was the text you received.
charlie 🏎️<3
We didn’t get to have our anniversary.
satellite | charles leclerc
<3 briefly based on satellite by hs :)
SUMMARY: the one where charles tries to stay away after your falling out.
WARNING: angsty angst, swearing, drunk stuff, fluff, jealousy, and overprotective-ness (dickhead charles and ASSHOLE LANDO ladies and gents)
PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.1k - somewhere in the thousands
A/N: the first part was supposed to be just a one shot but people asked for a p2 so here! and i didn’t proof read lemme know if there are any mistakes
tags: @sheslikeacurse @dan3avacado @miinqrii @honethatty12 @pleasedontfollowimlost
(just the people who asked for p2 i can definitely make a permanent taglist just let me know! enjoy <3)
PART 1
It had been a few months since that night.
Five months to be exact.
Since then you had gotten over it. Over him.
Which is what you told everyone despite the fact that you knew it wasn’t true. He crushed you. Your life came crumbling down on you in that club. And somehow he moved on particularly quickly. By Abu Dhabi his smile was back on his face, and a new girl on his arm.
And she made your blood boil.
With her perfect self. Perfect hair. Perfect everything.
And what sucked even more than Charles moving on with lightning speed?
The fact that she was truly perfect. She was a literal angel. She was an elementary school teacher close to Charles’s Monaco apartment. And their supposed meeting made you want to gouge your own eyes out when thinking about it. They had met whilst Charles was babysitting for a friend of his, the couple being absolutely knackered from taking care of their trio of terror that Charles was kind enough to offer to take their eldest, Brina, to school.
And when he came back to pick her up he was met with a crying Brina sitting in her lap. Her being Elena. Elena Seour. A 23 year old French woman, with brown hair and gorgeous dark brown eyes.
How ironic. She was quite literally Y/n L/n 2.0! But not that the similarities ever resonated with you.
It was hard. Smiling to everyone, nodding,
“Yeah it’s been a while, I’m okay.”
“I’ve been doing great! Focusing more on work, I’m good.”
“It’s been a while since I talked to him but yeah, overall life’s fine, I’m great.”
I’m okay. I’m good. I’m great.
Somehow those words always tasted bitter in your mouth. You always hoped that bitterness would fade away. But it had been so long, and there it was. A reminder, that you were anything but fine.
You were walking through the streets of Monaco.
Everything was calling out to you. The small city was bustling and bubbling on the Friday afternoon. The sun was dipping behind the crystal waters to your right as you continued your brisk walk. The taste was gone, you couldn’t be more happy, a weight of your shoulders.
You had your headphones in and were listening to music. It was calming. For the first time, in a long time, you felt at ease, peaceful. But of course that was disrupted as your best friend Spotify decided to blast ‘Kiwi’ by Harry. Which would’ve been fine despite the fact that you were in a more relaxed mood. Which prompted you to open up your phone and scroll through your thousands of playlists.
Your hand hovered over one playlist.
‘CHAR AND Y/N/N <3′
There it was, that bitter taste.
For some stupid reason you clicked on it. But honestly, you were surprised. Not by the silly music taste comprising of ABBA, Coldplay, Harry Styles, Zayn, Kendrick and Taylor Swift to a bunch of French artists you had no clue about. But by the fact that it did nothing. Your eyes weren’t tearing up, your heartbeat the same, everything the same.
And that comforted you. You were getting better.
But you weren’t so sure if you wanted to listen to the playlist and fall off the idea of getting better and into the dark abyss that was Charles.
Charles Leclerc.
His smile, laugh, hair, horrifying fashion taste-
No! No, no, no. Not happening.
Your stomachs rumbling brought you back to the present day as you got out of the playlist and decided on Zayn’s “Mind of Mine” album. You continued to walk as you searched up near-by restaurants which were still open. And there it was. The echoing laughter of the gods above as the only open restaurant was-
Of course, how surprising! And not only was that annoying but the fact that the two of you had your birthday there not even six months ago felt like a slap in the face.
Toujours. Forever.
It’s just a restaurant. It’s not like you’re going to his apartment and knocking on the door or anything Y/n. Calm the fuck down.
You reassured yourself as you turned around and made your way to the place.
What you hadn’t prepared yourself for was the fact that you had entirely forgotten the fact that not only had Toujours been your favourite restaurant in the city but also a certain Monegasque’s.
So it was entirely shocking when you walked in and spotted the Ferrari driver through the glass sliding doors in the back. He looked gorgeous as always. The golden hour light did nothing to deter you from looking at him, it drew you in. He was wearing a white dress shirt with black pants, his blazer no where to be seen. He was reading a magazine, whilst holding onto a glass of what you assumed was alcohol but from where you were you couldn’t tell.
What did shock you was when Elena returned to the seat in front of him. His jacket draped over her shoulders, with a wide smile on her face.
The warm smile of hers was not reciprocated.
Which piqued your interest.
The hostess returned, “We have a table ready for you Miss! Follow me.” You nodded and smiled before following her along.
You wondered how it would be like to die by glass. Just a shard of glass to eye. Or the neck. Or the head. Each one of those options seems more friendly as you listened to Elena drone on and on and on and-
You get the idea.
Of course the only available table was next to them.
You were sitting with your back to Charles as was he. You thanked god that he was fixing his cuff whilst you were seated. You were nowhere near ready to talk to him. Being so close in proximity to him already had your heart beating out of your chest, ready to leap and run. God you wished you could run.
But your protestant stomach thought the opposite.
Your nose scrunched in disgust as the waitress walked past with white wine. God you hated white wine. So you were even more disgusted when the glass was placed in front of Charles, to which he grabbed it and downed the entire glass. He also hated white wine, whilst Lando loved it. Which always resulted in you and Charles ganging up on him while teasing him.
“I swear to god it’s not even that bad for fucks sake Charles!”
Maybe he had a bad race week? You hadn’t been especially paying attention to Formula One since the split, only every focusing on Lando and Daniel the few times you did pay attention in the week.
Your eyes flicked up as the waitress walked to your table with your order. God had you missed the food here. You were having a cheat day. Which Charles obviously took a bit too literally a few months ago.
So when she placed the Pizza Margherita on your table you had to refrain from kissing her out of gratefulness. The smell was intoxicating. You had also ordered Garlic bread and Mozzarella sticks.
“Miss?”
“Hm?”
“I said there’s an open table inside if you’d like. I can bring this all in.”
You nodded profusely. Anything to get away from Miss Chatty behind you. You took it all back. She wasn’t perfect, she was eager. Way to eager. She hung onto every word of Charles as if he was a god. Which he is but still. She was far to kind, to optimistic all the time. And god was she whiny.
“Charles you’re going to be gone for so long.”
“Charles I’m going to be so lonely.”
“I want you home please.”
She would never shut up. And she also didn’t grasp the concept that Charles was a Formula One driver. Him being busy is the first thing you have to come to terms with in order to be in a relationship with him. And you knew how much Charles hated whining. Well only a certain type of whining. By the way his muscles were tensed which was very appealing to see, you could tell he was at his breaking point. Charles had always hated being away from you, as did you hate being away from him. But you understood. The amount of effort, sacrifice and most of all time that he had put into his career. And you were always supportive, no matter what. However Elena seemed to cling onto him. She quite literally was acting like the children she cared for. Pouting her lips whilst begging him to stay with her.
“It’s just one race, why can’t you stay?”
Is this bitch for real?
The quiet music was soothing as you ate. But you couldn’t help but glance over at the couple outside ever so often. Once you were finished with quite literally all of your food safe to say you were ready to fall into a coma. Food coma that is.
And as you were gathering your belongings to leave, shouting from outside had caught your attention.
“You always put it over me! Everything over me! Your team, career, Carlos, Lando, Arthur everyone!”
“Ma carrière est tout! C'est comme ça que je paie ton appartement. Vos vêtements. Ta voiture. Je te donne tout ce que tu veux ! Tout le temps! Je n'ai même pas fêté la deuxième victoire de Carlos à cause de toi ! Tu m'entraînes loin de ma vie et tu m'enfermes comme si tu me possédais. God I do everything for you. Is it not enough?”
My career is everything! It’s how I pay for your apartment. Your clothes. Your car. I give you everything you want! All the time! I didn’t even celebrate Carlos’s second win because of you! You drag me away from my life and lock me up like you fucking own me.
“I told you to not speak in languages I don’t fucking know! I don’t give a shit about the money okay? I want you! But you don’t want me. I know it. Don’t even try to deny it okay? I see the way you look at her. When she walks by with Lando in the paddock, god you don’t even try to hide it.”
“How the hell is this about Y/n now-”
“It always is! You love her not me. You never have. You liked the idea of being with me, to get over her. It’s all about her!”
“Tu es fou.” You’re fucking crazy.
The unmistakable sound of a hand striking his face.
“I’m not stupid, I know that much French asshole.”
A teary eyed girl ran past you and you thanked god she didn’t look your way.
Charles was sitting down again. His head in his hands. And you found yourself glossy eyed. He looked miserable. He took his head out of his hands and leaned his back, looking up at the sky.
Charles found himself thinking of you. Where were you?
And how the hell did he get here.
The second month he had resorted to a jab or two.
God if he could take it all back he would.
And that’s how he found himself in a bar at 2 am in the morning with Pierre, Lando and Max all around him, drunk too. Him and Lando were still iffy. Lando gave him a piece of his mind almost every day he saw the man on track after the breakup for the first month.
The third was hateful death stares from across the paddock.
The fourth resulted in awkward small take.
The fifth had them in an okay spot. Ever since Lando had learnt of Y/n being better in general seeing her smile return had him over the moon. Even if he was still annoyed at Charles seeing the wreck that he was had him sympathetic.
“I don’t even- I’m not even sad over Elena. I-is that fucked?”
“Slightly mate, but overall even after dating her you saw her about a week each month so it wasn’t t-that big of a relationship so it’s okay. You’ll be over it soon.” Lando consoled the driver.
And that had Lando and Pierre totally sober.
“I just want my Y/n.”
After months of Charles being with Elena and re-assuring his friends and family that he was okay with out her, he was back in square one?
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man.” Pierre sighed.
“What?” Charles asked as he raised his head from his arms on the table only to be ushered back to his original position.
“Shh Charlie. Ce n'est rien, rendors-toi d'accord?”
Nothing. Go back to sleep ok?
You had been twirling the umbrella in your Virgin Cocktail for the past five minutes. The club wasn’t really your scene, hasn’t been since that night. You were bored out of your mind and had no idea what to do. Seeing Charles so, broken? Exhausted? You had no thoughts to describe it.
After a few drunken protests he was asleep. Lando and Pierre sighed in relief.
It just hurt. You hated seeing him so down, always have.
So when your turned to inspect your surroundings and saw Charles laid across a booth to your right with Pierre and Lando slowly getting out of the booth to go to the bathroom you had to hold your head. How the hell had you run into him twice already?
And all of a sudden you were sitting by his head, and your hand brushing the hair out of his face.
“Y/n?” Pierre questioned.
“Pierre!” You smiled as you got up and wrapped him in a hug, Lando joining shortly afterwards. “What’re you doing next to Charles?” And all of a sudden your shoes became extremely interesting as you gazed at them. “I- I was just- Fuck I have no clue. I just, I miss him.”
“Y/n, as one of Charles’s best mate, I have to say that he misses you. Too much. Honestly? I think he’s still mentally at that club. Replaying it over and over. How he could’ve handled it better. Why he did what he did. He’s beating himself up over everything. Elena was just a distraction and he doesn’t even realize he’s still on you half the time. Elena looks exactly like you, brown hair and eyes, short and so on. He needs closure which I don’t think he ever got, neither did you. I loved the two of you together even if you guys were so sickeningly sweet it made me regret ever being against the two of you. But as your best friend? Since we were kids?”
Whatever he was about to say was going to hurt and you knew it.
“If you take him back I will never forgive you.”
You never thought anything could ever rival how you felt that night but Lando always proved you wrong.
“How could you say that!” You shouted.
“He hurt you! He fucking hurt you bad. I was there for you! I held you when you cried, I dragged you of bed when you threatened to punch me in the face if I even took the covers off of you. When you teared up when finding his sweatshirt I threw it away! I will not let you go back to him if you don’t know for sure how he won’t cheat again. I can not, I will not let it happen again. Y/n you deserve so much more that some cunt who cheats.” Lando rambled on.
“I appreciate you Lando you know that. I love you, you have always been there for me no matter what. But if I want to get back with Charles that would be my choice. I am not a child, you cannot boss me around or make decisions about my life. Yes he hurt and I will forever be grateful to have had you there to get me through everything but Charles is not an idiot. If we did get back together there is no way in hell would he cheat again and I know it. I know Charles in ways that you will never.”
“You obviously didn’t know him well enough since he cheated on you. And you’re fucking going back to him like a fucking idiotic girl.”
Smack.
“How dare you. Fucking using my shit? My past against me? I don’t give a single shit if you don’t want me with Charles I am a grown fucking woman and I will do as I please. When you’ve finally got your head screwed on straight come talk to me like a normal fucking friend would, otherwise?” You looked him in his eyes.
Somehow you again ended up on a balcony for fresh air. “Y/n.” “Fuck off Lando.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me.”
“Y/n.”
Your head shot up as you turned around. Charles was standing there, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him as tight as possible.
“I missed you. I missed you so fucking much it hurt.”
“I missed you too. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry for everything ma chérie.”
He held your face with his hands on each cheek before resting his forehead with yours. “I missed you. These past few months have been fucking awful. God not even racing made me feel better. You have no clue how much I regret everything that happened that day. I felt so stupid, kissing some random girl when I had the most beautiful girl already. I have no clue why I did it, being drunk is no excuse. You never ever deserved any of the shit I put you through. You were always patient with me and I will be patient with you.”
You looked up into his eyes. God you missed his eyes.
“Je serai patient, je t'attendrai mon cœur.”
I will be patient, I will wait for you my heart.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Did you just quote Harry Styles?”
“Don’t wait. I’m here, right here spinning out waiting for you.”
“Of course. He’s my husband y’know?”
“Oh really? So do I have to fight this guy to get to you ma chérie?”
“Of course! Good luck Char, he’s really hot.”
“Is he now?” He laughed as he tickled your sides whilst you swatted his arms and tried to wriggle away to safety.
“Mon ange please!” You cried.
His heart was intact again.
The nickname had sirens going off in his head, leaving him wondering if this was even real. Did he seriously have you back again? He did.
And he would love you forever, always waiting for you.
Round and round.
Satellite.
NANDEMONAIYA
pairing: Charles Leclerc x VA Reader
faceclaim: Hamabe Minami
masterlist
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Liked by pierregasley, arthur_leclerc, olliebearman, and 1,824,761 others
charlesleclerc good to be back home 🤍
user1 oh, to be loved by Charles Leclerc
user2 I just know she is beautiful 💕
user3 WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN 😫
user4 MY PARENTS
user5 They way his feed changes to just her whenever he is on break
user6 CHARLES IT’S BEEN 4 YEARS WHEN WILL YOU SHOW US HER FACE!
user7 I love bf Charles ❤️
user8 They could easily be the cutest couple on the grid if we knew anything about her and saw her at gp’s
| user9 I can’t believe she’s been to so | many and we have never been able to get | a glimpse of her
| user10 She is either a really private | person or she is also famous
user11 I love that he is keeping this relationship private, but not a secret 💖
user12 WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO BE HER IN MY NEXT LIFE 😩
Liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale, pierregasly, and 2,016,928 others
charlesleclerc SHE SAID YES 🤍💍🥂
user1 CONGRATULATIONS 😭
user2 OMFG ARE YOU SERIOUS!
user3 I can’t believe Charles is engaged!
user4 THE LAST PICTURE‼️
user5 THE BOAT RIDE! THE RING! THE BREAKFAST IN BED! WHEN IS IT MY TURN 😭
user6 🥹🥹🥹
user7 WILL YOU SHOW US HER FACE NOW!
| user8 They will be married for years | with 3 kids and we still won’t know | what she looks like 🙂
user9 I KNOW THAT WEDDING IS GONNA BE BEAUTIFUL
Liked by 2,692,116 others
charlesleclerc Soon to be YN Leclerc 🤍
user1 Charles can you fight
user2 I AM NOW A YN FAN ACCOUNT
user3 OMFG SHE’S MITSUHA! CHARLES IS MARRYING MITSUHA!
user4 I just fell to my knees in the middle of Walmart 😭
user5 I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAVE BEEN DATING YN FOR YEARS!
user6 THE PLAY THE PIANO TOGETHER 🥹
user7 STUNNING, AMAZING, and umm he’s there 🙂
user8 IM SO SINGLE 😔
user9 I’m gonna cry myself to sleep now
user10 Charles is such a lover boy ❤️
user11 He is so in love 🥰
user12 I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE‼️
user13 HOW IS SHE CUTE AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME
user14 I can’t believe Charles is dating Maki from JJK
| user15 MAKI? YOU MEAN TOGA!
user16 I want to know how they met because I would have never guessed this
user17 I need to know which character YN has voiced is Charles’s favorite!
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Cheering From Heaven
Charles Leclerc x Senna!Driver!Reader
Genre: sad but also fluffy
Request: yep! I hope you like it! I actually cried a little writing it. My requests are still open for like... half the grid at this point. So please send me your ideas, I am begging, don't be shy. :)
Summary: reader never got to meet her father, but thanks him everyday for the racing in her DNA. When she overhears a conversation about her over dramatic celebrations, she becomes more reserved. Charles immediately takes notice and is determined to restore the energy she once had.
Warnings: Talks of death and crashes, not proofread (if I ever proofread call the police because it’s not me someone stole my identity).
Notes: written in second person. For the purpose of this fic, the Ferrari strategists know how to do their job.
Y’all have been giving my fics so much love. Thank you all so much 🥺❤️
Masterlist
You were the first female driver on the grid. You worked your way up the ranks just like everyone else. Your mother doing her best to support you despite it being just you and her.
She always said you have racing in your blood. Your father died before you could meet him. The fatal accident of Aryton Senna rocked everyone.
Especially your mother, who had just found out she was pregnant with you.
You were determined to continue his legacy. Knowing he was cheering you on from the afterlife.
When you started competing more often and moving up through the stages. You decided to go by your mother's last name. Not wanting your fathers name to have anything to do with how people saw you as a driver.
You wanted to race for him, not because of him. Nepotism in this sport can make or break someone's career.
When you got up to Formula 1, you cried tears of joy. Knowing that your father was looking out for you.
You were relatively accepted among everyone. You and your teammate Charles got along better than anyone could imagine.
Competing and pushing each other, but still remaining close at the end of the day.
What you didn't know was that some on the grid found you annoying.
You had found fast success and with it came rituals. You wanted to cheer loud enough for your father to hear you. Celebrating enough for the both of you.
It hurt having not known him, but you felt like you did at times. Hearing his name still being praised. You’d watched his races on YouTube repeatedly. You knew he would be ecstatic to see you here.
Everywhere else you were very down to earth and chill. On the podium, however, was a different story. There you let everything go, enjoying yourself for those who couldn’t be there with you. It was your ritual and you loved it. Charles found it entertaining despite not understanding it. You worked hard for your success, why shouldn’t you enjoy it?
You were going to run up and join a group of the guys walking and talking after a race one evening. Charles being one of them. You’d grown feelings for him and even if he didn’t return them, having him as a friend was still great.
They didn’t hear you approach, continuing there conversation without remorse.
“I don’t know man, I find her annoying.”
Charles was immediately confused at this. “Annoying? How so? I find her the least annoying out of everyone else.” He chuckled at his own funny remark.
“I agree. She seems very cocky when she wins. Rubbing it in everyone’s faces.”
A course of similar comments and agreements strung from their mouths. You didn’t stay to hear everything, quickly finding your way back to your hotel room.
Charles had left the conversation not long after. Leaving them the group with one last statement before walking off. “Who cares how she celebrates? Anyone that wins wants to enjoy it, so let her have this.”
While you became quieter and more reserved, Charles became more concerned. You weren’t the sunshine everyone enjoyed having around. You weren’t offering soothing words when someone had an off day. It was strange and he didn’t like it. He became determined to help you through it.
Everyone started talking after your next win. You smiled but said nothing. You looked unfazed by the champaign chaos. You were hardly celebrating.
Everyone else assumed your were sick, but Charles had the feeling there was something else at play.
He’d immediately given into his crush on you. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to escape it since you spent tons of time together. If only he could help you through whatever fought patch you were in. Maybe he could get the confidence to ask you out.
It was now time for the Brazilian Grand-Prix. Imola. The track Ayrton Senna lost his life.
You were hoping to win today for him, and you had a good shot at doing so after an amazing qualifying.
In the evening you decided to visit your father’s memorial. The track was clear like the sky. Pink and orange hues shining down in rays. You dropped to your knees, placing the flower you brought in front of the memorial.
“I hope you can forgive me for not cheering loud anymore.” You cried. Failing to notice the footsteps behind you. “Mom says you’d be proud of me. That you would’ve come to every race. I wish I could’ve known you.”
Charles crouch’s next to you. His hand rubbing circles on your back in a soothing manner. He didn’t say anything, just let you talk. He knows how it feels to miss someone.
“I cheer loudly so that he can hear me. I just know he’d be celebrating with me, so I do enough for the both of us.” You confessed, leaning into Charles’ touch.
“I understand.” He guides your face to look at him, gently wiping your tears with his thumb. “Your dad would be proud of you. I am also proud of you.”
No other words needed to be said. You leaned in, your foreheads now touching. Somehow, that did all the talking for you.
The next day brought excitement and anxiety. You and Charles fighting hard to be at the top. You nearly cried when you won. Charles right behind you in second.
When the cars were parked, you jumped into his arms. Adrenaline flooding through your veins. She the interviewer came to ask you about the race, you looked at Charles. Him nodding at you and giving you a thumbs up for reassurance.
“I just want to say that I’m dedicating this win to my father, Ayrton Senna. I hope to continue his legacy.”
Everyone stared at you before the chanting of your name started. The name everyone knew you by now changed.
You were hesitant to celebrate on the podium. Until Charles took your hand in his and yelled at the top of his lungs. Bathing you in the alcohol. So you finally let loose again, the fans screaming with you.
And when you two were alone again, you realized your father had been watching you. He sent you Charles. A soft ‘thank you’ falls from your lips before kissing Charles Champagne covered lips.
La Regina
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader
Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)
You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.
“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.
You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.
Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”
Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.
“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.
You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.
Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.
Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.
After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.
“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”
“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.
“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”
You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.
“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.
Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”
You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.
“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”
“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”
He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.
The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.
“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”
Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”
You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”
Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”
As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.
“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”
You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”
Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.
“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”
You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”
“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”
As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.
***
The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.
“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”
She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.
“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”
You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.
On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.
It makes you feel ill.
Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.
Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.
As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.
“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”
“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”
Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”
You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.
The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.
“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”
The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.
“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”
Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.
The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.
Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.
Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.
“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.
Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.
“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”
She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.
Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.
Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.
“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”
The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.
How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.
“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”
You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.
You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.
Just Michael. Your one and only papa.
The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.
Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.
Let me have my papa back.
***
A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.
Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”
You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.
“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”
You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.
“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”
You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”
He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”
The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.
“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”
“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”
“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”
Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.
“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”
He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”
Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?
“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”
“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.
“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”
Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.
“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”
Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.
“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.
“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”
Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.
“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”
She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”
More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.
“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”
Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.
“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”
You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.
“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”
You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.
“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”
Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.
“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”
Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.
“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”
She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”
Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.
When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.
“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”
She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.
“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”
She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.
“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”
***
The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.
“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”
You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”
“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”
As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.
“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.
“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”
Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”
You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”
“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”
The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.
Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.
“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.
You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”
He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”
You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”
“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”
Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.
You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”
He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”
The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”
The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.
“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”
Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.
“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.
“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.
Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.
You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”
He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.
“But?” You prod gently.
Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”
Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”
He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”
You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”
Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”
A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.
You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”
Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.
On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.
“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.
You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”
Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”
It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”
Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”
***
It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.
“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”
Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”
You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”
He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”
“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”
Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”
“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”
He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”
“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”
The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.
“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”
You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”
For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.
“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”
Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”
“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”
“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.
You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”
“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”
You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”
“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”
“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”
Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”
An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?
“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”
You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”
He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”
“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.
Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”
“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”
“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”
You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”
“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.
You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”
“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”
“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”
Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”
He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”
You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.
Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”
Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”
You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.
“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.
He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”
A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”
***
You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.
The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”
You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”
He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”
“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.
A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”
Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...
“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.
You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”
Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.
“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.
Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”
You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”
He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”
You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”
Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”
“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”
Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”
You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”
The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.
You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.
“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.
You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”
You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”
Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...
“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”
You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”
Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”
You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”
Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”
You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”
As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.
To race.
To win.
To become a legend.
***
The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.
“Over here, Y/N!”
“Un selfie, per favore!”
“Can you sign this for my daughter?”
You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.
“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.
The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.
“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”
You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.
“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”
“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”
Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”
You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”
Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”
He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.
“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”
Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.
“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.
“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”
She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.
“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”
You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.
Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”
As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.
“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.
You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”
Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.
“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”
Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”
“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.
The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.
“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”
Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”
She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.
“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.
Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.
Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.
It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.
Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”
Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.
“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”
When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.
As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”
You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”
Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.
“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”
Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”
A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.
“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”
“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”
You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.
“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”
As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.
“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”
With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.
Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”
You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”
Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.
As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.
***
Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.
This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.
Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.
“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”
You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”
“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”
Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.
“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”
Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.
“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.
“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.
As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”
Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”
You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.
Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.
Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.
You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.
Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.
“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.
“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.
Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.
Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.
Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.
“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!
You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.
Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.
As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”
“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”
Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”
Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”
The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”
Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.
Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.
Mission accomplished.
***
The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.
You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”
He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”
There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”
Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”
“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.
“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?
“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”
“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”
A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”
You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”
Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”
“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”
“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”
Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”
“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.
Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.
“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”
You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”
“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”
“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”
Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”
“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.
“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.
You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.
“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”
Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”
You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”
A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”
Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”
You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”
“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”
You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”
Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.
You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.
Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.
“You!”
The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.
“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”
You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”
Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.
The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.
After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.
Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.
Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:
“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”
The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.
Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”
Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.
As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.
The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.
Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.
On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.
“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.
Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.
They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.
The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.
At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”
He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”
The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”
You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.
The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.
You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.
Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.
With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.
But most of all, it’s home.
As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:
La principessa di Monza.
La principessa di Ferrari.
***
11 Months Later
The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.
“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”
Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.
Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.
The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.
“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”
You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.
Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.
You did it.
World Champion at last!
You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.
Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.
And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.
The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.
“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.
“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”
You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.
“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”
Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.
You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.
“To our champion! The Queen!”
The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.
“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”
Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.
All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:
“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”
The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.
Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.
“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”
Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.
When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.
For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.
This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.
“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”
You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.
As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.
It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.
And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.
Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.
La Regina di Ferrari.
La Regina del Mondo.
***
Eight Years Later
Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”
“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”
Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”
“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”
You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”
The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.
“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”
“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”
“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.
Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”
“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”
You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.
“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”
“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.
The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.
“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”
“Charles! Over here, please!”
“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”
Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.
“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”
Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.
“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.
“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”
“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.
You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”
“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”
“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”
“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”
“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”
You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”
He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.
“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”
Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”
With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.
“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”
You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”
Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”
“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”
He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”
“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”
Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”
He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-
“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”
You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.
“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.
You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”
He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”
You and Charles share an amused look.
“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”
Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.
“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”
And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.
“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”
You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”
With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.
“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”
You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.
“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”
You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.
“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”
Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”
With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.
By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.
“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”
Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”
You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.
“Oh my god, it’s them!”
“They’re so cute together!!”
“Over here, please! This way!”
You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.
“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”
Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”
You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.
“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra) Genre: Comfort/Fluff Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face.
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed?
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position.
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies?
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that.
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview.
But now, you just had to be there for Charles.
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan.
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative.
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it.
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it.
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free.
You gave him a little nudge.
“Go,” was all you told him.
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation.
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned.
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock.
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit.
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?”
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well.
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat.
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles.
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out.
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant.
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles.
“He trusts you Max.”
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step.
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly.
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway).
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1.
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly.
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man.
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.”
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.”
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special.
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet.
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over.
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed.
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?”
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered.
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.”
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face.
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.”
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.”
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment).
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise.
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything.
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer.
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything.
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly.
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room.
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back.
“Good morning amore.”
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep.
“Morning Cha.”
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after.
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours.
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips.
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten.
Charles rested his forehead against yours.
You hummed, getting his attention.
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested.
“Like, later today or in a few hours.”
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.”
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going.
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes.
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another.
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here).
Charles unbuckled with you following suit.
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked.
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.”
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend.
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance.
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog.
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni.
“Is he here?”
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.”
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.”
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest.
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight.
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended.
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands.
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside.
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni.
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend.
Doni smirked down at you.
“That’s for you to decide love.”
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy.
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you.
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.”
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.”
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that.
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper.
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write.
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down.
“Leo.”
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?”
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.”
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.”
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.”
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed.
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.”
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.”
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch.
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.”
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?”
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.”
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started.
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.”
“He is not named after Max.”
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.”
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?”
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.”
“Max is not my work-wife.”
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.”
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!”
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.”
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!”
“I’m dating a child.”
y/n_bianchi has posted
y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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Karma is My Boyfriend
OKAY I KNOW SOME OF THE EDITING OF THE PICS ARE SHIT BUT PLEASE BEAR WITH ME. I DON’T OWN PHOTOSHOP.
This is also a purely smau fic that contains only pictures. I spent three days making this because I had so much fun making this.
Part 2 has been uploaded
This is absolutely, 100%, a Helmut Marko hate page.
Face Claim: Kennedy Walsh and Lissie Mackintosh for one pic
Race Engineer!Reader x CL16
Part 2
⚠️THIS POST HAS BEEN DELETED⚠️
Part 2!
charles leclerc boyfriend texts
( bf texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★ : pairing :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: crack; mature ★ : a/n :: starting a new series!!
©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
Imagine that the reader, Charles, Lando and Carlos randomly get the idea to go to Costco and try some viral food they saw on TikTok so when they go to buy the product, Charles grabs a separate cart and when the guys ask him why if they are only going to buy one thing, he says that the reader always ends up buying too many things and then has nowhere to put them so Charles is used to carrying an extra cart because he knows his girlfriend is a compulsive shopper.
retail therapy
★ : feat :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: fluff; crack ★ : word count :: 1.4k ★ : a/n :: i've had this in my drafts for so long. i'm so sorry love, i unfortunately suck and forget to schedule the post. thanks for the fun request <33
You found yourself in the expansive parking lot of a large store on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon, accompanied by Charles, Lando, and Carlos.
The mission? To grab the viral food product that TikTok had unanimously declared a must-try: Shin Ramyun. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out operation, but Charles had other plans.
”Why'd you grab an extra cart?” Lando asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion as Charles nonchalantly pushed the second cart alongside his own.
”We're only buying one thing,” Carlos chimed in, clearly perplexed.
Charles sighed dramatically, casting a knowing glance at you, who were busily scrolling through your phone to find the exact aisle where the magical ramen resided.
”You guys don't understand,” Charles began, shaking his head as if explaining a basic concept to toddlers before whispering so you wouldn’t catch it. ”Y/N always ends up buying too many things. It's like she has a radar for… unnecessary purchases.”
”Hey!” you protested, looking up from your phone. ”They're not unnecessary. They're uh- useful in unexpected ways!”
”Like the 50-pound bag of gummy bears?” Charles retorted, smirking when he saw your eyes widen. ”Or the industrial-sized jar of pickles you bought last time?”
”They were on sale,” you defended, crossing your arms. ”And you love pickles.”
”I love them in moderation, not in bulk.”
”You take that back, mister!”
Lando and Carlos exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.
”So, what's the plan?” Lando asked, eager to get the show on the road.
”Simple,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. ”We go in, get the Shin Ramyun, and maybe... just maybe... see if there are any good deals.”
Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. ”And this,” he said, gesturing to the extra cart, ”is why we can't have nice, quick shopping trips.”
You entered the store, greeted by the overwhelming scent of bulk goods and free samples. You navigated through the aisles, Charles dutifully pushing one carts, while Lando and Carlos alternatively pushed the other.
”Okay, the Shin Ramyun should be in aisle 12,” you announced, leading the way. ”But we should definitely check out the electronics section first. You never know when there's a sale.”
”We're here for food,” Charles reminded you, though his tone was more resigned than stern.
”And electronics,” you added cheerfully. ”Come on, it's right this way.”
Lando nudged Carlos, whispering, ”Ten bucks says our bill will be over two grand.”
”Mate, talk around five and you're on,” Carlos replied with a grin.
Sure enough, as you wandered through the electronics section, your eyes lit up at the sight of a massive flat-screen TV on sale.
”Look at this deal!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ”We could totally use a new TV.”
The boys behind you just shook their heads and to appease them, you slowly started, ”I’m just saying that the bonus I got last week has got to—”
”You guys have a TV,” Lando snickered.
”Yes, but not this TV,” you said, gesturing dramatically. ”Think about movie nights! Think about the sports games! Think about—”
”Think about where we're going to put it,” Charles interrupted, though he was already losing the battle. The allure of a good deal was strong, even for him. You could see it in his eyes that he was already almost convinced.
”Fine,” you huffed anyway, moving along. ”But we're coming back for it if we have room.”
Lando and Carlos exchanged looks, trying to stifle their laughter.
”You guys are a mess,” Carlos said, shaking his head. ”This is better than Netflix.”
”Just wait until we hit the snack aisle,” Lando added, trying to be discreet but you caught it. ”That's when things get really interesting.” He just gave you a nervous cheeky smile in return as you glared.
As you made your way to aisle 12, you inevitably got distracted by various items along the way. A giant jar of Nutella? In the cart. A set of high-end kitchen knives? In the cart. A year's supply of toilet paper? In the cart.
Charles dutifully followed, pushing the now significantly heavier cart with an air of resigned amusement. ”See?” he said to Lando and Carlos. ”This is why I grabbed an extra cart.”
Finally, you reached the aisle with the viral TikTok food product. There it was, Shin Ramyun, in all its spicy glory, stacked high and tempting.
”Here it is!” you said triumphantly, grabbing several boxes and adding them to the cart. ”Mission accomplished.”
”Can we leave now?” Charles asked, though he already knew the answer.
”Not yet,” you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. ”We need to check out the outdoor section. Summer's coming, and we could use some new patio furniture.”
Charles groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. He knew this was just how your trips to the store went. Besides, there was something endearing about your enthusiasm for finding deals and stocking up on... well, everything.
As you wandered through the outdoor section, Lando and Carlos tried out various patio chairs and loungers, providing a running commentary that kept everyone entertained. You found a particularly nice set that you insisted would look perfect in your backyard.
”Think of all the barbecues we could have,” you said, looking at Charles with pleading eyes.
Charles sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ”Fine, but this is the last thing. I mean it.”
”Promise,” you said, kissing him lightly while your friends fake gagged in the background.
You made your way to the checkout, carts overflowing with all manner of items. The staff recognized the boys and immediately started asking for photos and signatures as you guys waited for your turn.
That’s when Charles moved around and squeezed,”Gotta run to the toilet, I’ll be back in two?” He leaned down to whisper.
You shrugged and nodded your head, instead discussing Lando's new apartment with him. Failing to notice how Carlos was nowhere in sight either.
The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she rang up the seemingly endless stream of products.
She was on the last few products when you heard Lando sigh under his breath and as you turned around, you saw Charles and Carlos carrying the box of the TV that you were eyeing.
Your own eyes widened as you jumped up and down and screamed,”No way, I love you!” Charles just snorted as skipped towards him.
He set the TV down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. ”I couldn't resist,” he admitted, his voice soft. ”Your excitement is contagious.”
You beamed up at him, feeling the love and warmth in his embrace. ”You always know how to make me feel loved.”
Charles kissed your forehead, his eyes twinkling. ”Cmon, babe. It’s like breathing for me now”
Lando and Carlos approached, carrying the last few bags and boxes. ”You two are adorable,” Lando teased, nudging Carlos. ”A bit nauseating, but adorable.”
As you left the store, pushing your heavily-laden carts towards the car, Lando and Carlos couldn't help but laugh.
”I owe you ten bucks,” Lando said, nudging Carlos.
Charles wrapping an arm around you. ”What do you think we can do with our old TV?” You smirked before looking over at Lando and Carlos who were loading the car.
”You know the way Lando bought a new apartmen—” Your boyfriend threw his head back and laughed before you could even finish.
”God, baby, I love you! Compulsive shopping and all.”
You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. ”And I love that you always bring an extra cart. Just in case.”
”So, what's the first thing we do with all this stuff?” Carlos asked, squeezing the last box into the trunk.
”Easy,” you said with a grin. ”We head home and have a fun game session with some Shin Ramyun and a movie on our new TV.”
Lando snickered. ”Sounds like the perfect end to a perfect shopping spree.”
”And if anyone asks,” Charles added with a wink, ”this was all part of the therapy. Sometimes, a little retail indulgence is just what the doctor ordered.”
”Retail therapy,” you said, snuggling into Charles as you drove off. ”It's cheaper than real therapy. Sometimes.”
Charles laughed, kissing the top of your head. ”And way more fun.”
(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.