#Mattias can go in there as well

[tarn-ati0n]

Most fucked up white haired Octopath guy tournament would work surprisingly well.

[sanktaofthieves]

the second season drawing such clear lines with jesper, kaz and inej's love for each other really grinds my gears, they love each other, what else is there?

the book having most of the crows all a little in love with one another was one of the best parts of it.

[pucksandpower]

Stitched Together

mafia boss!Charles Leclerc x surgeon!Reader

Summary: helping a man in dire need of medical attention leads you down a road you never could have imagined

Warnings: this is a mafia romance so … yeah (gunshot wounds, drugging, kidnapping, and Mattia Binotto)

The quiet streets of Monaco glisten under the soft glow of streetlights as you make your way home from a work dinner. The night air carries a slight chill, and you pull your jacket tighter around yourself, your heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement.

Suddenly, a pained groan echoes from a nearby alley, stopping you in your tracks. Your instincts as a surgeon kick in, and you cautiously approach the shadowed passage.

“Hello?” You call out, peering into the darkness. “Is someone there?”

Another groan answers you, and as your eyes adjust, you spot a figure slumped against the wall. Rushing forward, you kneel beside the man, immediately noticing the dark stain spreading across his midsection.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, your training kicking in. “Sir, can you hear me? I’m a doctor. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

As you reach for your phone, a hand weakly grasps your wrist. “No ... no hospitals,” the man rasps, his voice strained.

You frown, conflicted. “Sir, you’re seriously injured. You need medical attention.”

“Can’t ... risk it,” he manages, his breathing labored.

Biting your lip, you consider your options. “Okay, what’s your name?”

“Charles,” he replies, grimacing as he shifts slightly.

“Alright, Charles,” you say, your voice calm and steady. “If you won’t go to a hospital, will you at least let me take you back to my apartment? I’m a surgeon and I can patch you up there.”

Charles hesitates, his piercing green eyes searching your face. After a moment, he nods. “Okay.”

With some effort, you manage to help Charles to his feet, supporting his weight as you slowly make your way out of the alley. “My place isn’t far,” you assure him. “Just hang on.”

The short walk feels like an eternity, but finally, you reach your apartment building. As you fumble with your keys, Charles leans heavily against the wall.

“Almost there,” you encourage, guiding him inside and into the elevator.

Once in your apartment, you lead Charles to your couch. “Lie down,” you instruct, already moving to gather supplies. “I need to assess the damage.”

Returning with your medical kit, you carefully cut away Charles’ blood-soaked shirt. The bullet wound is clearly visible, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it’s not as severe as you initially feared.

“Good news,” you tell him, meeting his gaze. “The bullet seems to have missed any vital organs. I can clean and stitch this up, but you’ve lost a lot of blood. Are you sure I can’t convince you to go to a hospital?”

Charles shakes his head firmly. “No hospitals. Please.”

You nod, respecting his decision despite your reservations. “Alright. This is going to hurt, but I’ll do my best to be quick.”

As you work, Charles grits his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. “So,” he says, clearly trying to distract himself, “what’s a surgeon doing patching up strange men in her living room?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? I have no idea. I guess I just couldn’t leave you bleeding in that alley.”

“Most people would have just called the police,” Charles points out, hissing as you clean the wound.

“Well, I’m not most people,” you reply with a small smile. “And you seemed pretty adamant about avoiding official channels.”

Charles studies you for a moment. “You’re not going to ask why?”

You shrug, focusing on your work. “It’s not my place to pry. Though I have to admit, I am curious about what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”

A wry smile tugs at Charles’ lips. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Fair enough,” you concede. “Hold still, I’m about to start stitching.”

As you work, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re good at this,” he comments after a while.

You smile, not looking up from your task. “I should hope so. I didn’t go through years of medical school for nothing.”

“How long have you been in Monaco?” Charles asks, seemingly genuinely interested.

“About three years now,” you reply. “I came here for a fellowship at the hospital and ended up staying.”

Charles nods. “Do you like it here?”

You consider the question as you finish the last stitch. “I do. It’s beautiful, and the work is challenging. But ...”

“But?” Charles prompts when you trail off.

Sighing, you begin applying a bandage. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels a bit ... lonely, I guess. It’s not always easy to connect with people here.”

Charles’ expression softens. “I can understand that. Monaco can be a difficult place to truly belong.”

You meet his gaze, surprised by the understanding in his eyes. “Exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I’ve made some friends, but sometimes I miss the sense of community I had back home.”

“Where is home for you?” Charles asks.

“Originally? A small town that feels like a lifetime away from here,” you answer. “Nothing like Monaco, that’s for sure.”

Charles chuckles, then winces slightly. “I can imagine. It must have been quite the culture shock.”

You nod, smiling. “You have no idea. But enough about me. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks to you,” Charles replies, attempting to sit up.

You gently push him back down. “Not so fast. You need to rest and let that wound start healing.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Are you planning on keeping me hostage, doctor?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But I’d feel better if you stayed put for at least a little while. Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Water would be great, thank you,” Charles says, settling back against the couch cushions.

As you move to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, you can’t help but glance back at your unexpected guest. There’s something intriguing about Charles, beyond his mysterious injury and resistance to seek official help.

Returning with the water, you hand it to Charles, who takes it gratefully. “Thank you,” he says, his fingers brushing against yours as he accepts the glass.

You sit in the armchair across from him, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “So, Charles,” you begin, “what do you do when you’re not getting shot in dark alleys?”

Charles nearly chokes on his water, coughing slightly before letting out a surprised laugh. “You certainly don’t pull any punches, do you?”

You shrug, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Well, you did say it was better if I didn’t know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be curious.”

Charles regards you with amusement. “Fair enough. Let’s just say I’m in ... business management.”

“Business management,” you repeat skeptically. “That must be some high-stakes business.”

“You have no idea,” Charles murmurs, his expression turning serious for a moment before he shakes it off. “But really, I’d much rather hear more about you. It’s not every day I meet a beautiful surgeon with a penchant for rescuing mysterious strangers.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his compliment. “There’s not much more to tell, really. I work, I occasionally have dinners with colleagues, and apparently, I moonlight as a back-alley doctor.”

Charles laughs, then winces, pressing a hand to his side. “Careful,” you warn, “You’ll pull your stitches.”

“Worth it,” Charles says with a grin. “You’re quite something, you know that?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling. “You’re not so bad yourself, for a guy who got shot and refused proper medical care.”

“What can I say? I like to live dangerously,” Charles quips.

You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Clearly. Though maybe you should consider a slightly less dangerous lifestyle. I can’t imagine getting shot is good for your long-term health.”

Charles’ expression turns thoughtful. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I’ve been due for a change.”

An unexpected wave of concern washes over you. “Charles, are you in some kind of trouble? Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looks at you, surprise and something else you can’t quite place flickering in his eyes. “You’ve already done more than enough. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you say dryly, gesturing to his bandaged midsection.

Charles chuckles. “Point taken. But really, you’ve been incredibly kind. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll be more careful,” you say, surprised by the intensity of your own words.

Charles holds your gaze, his expression serious. “I promise.”

A moment of charged silence passes between you, broken only when Charles slowly pushes himself to his feet. “I should go,” he says, though he sounds reJoristant. “I’ve imposed on you enough.”

You stand as well, moving to steady him. “Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay and rest.”

Charles shakes his head. “Thank you, but I really should be going. I have some ... matters to attend to.”

You bite your lip, concerned. “Alright. But please, take it easy. And if you need anything — if that wound gives you any trouble — don’t hesitate to come back or call me.” You scribble your number on a piece of paper and hand it to him.

Charles takes the paper, his fingers lingering against yours. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For everything.”

As you walk him to the door, you find yourself wishing he would stay. There’s something about Charles that intrigues you, draws you in despite the obvious danger surrounding him.

At the threshold, Charles turns to you one last time. “I meant what I said earlier. You really are something special. I hope our paths cross again under ... better circumstances.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Then, with a final smile, he’s gone, leaving you standing in your doorway, your heart racing and your mind reeling.

As Charles exits the building, he immediately pulls out his phone, his expression hardening into one of intense focus. He dials a number, speaking in a low, authoritative tone the moment the call connects.

“It’s me. I need eyes on someone, 24/7. A surgeon named Y/N Y/L/N. She’s under my protection now. No one touches her, understood?”

He ends the call, casting one last glance at your apartment building before disappearing into the night, already planning when and how he’ll see you again.

***

The glittering lights of the Hotel de Paris’ ballroom cast a warm glow over the assembled guests. You smooth down your elegant evening gown, feeling slightly out of place among Monaco’s elite. The hospital’s annual benefit gala is always a grand affair, but tonight feels different, charged with an energy you can’t quite place.

“Y/N!” A is familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Dr. Sophia Moreau, one of your closest colleagues, approaching with two champagne flutes in hand. “You clean up nicely,” she teases, offering you a glass.

You accept it gratefully, taking a small sip. “Thanks, Sophia. You look amazing too. How’s the night been so far?”

Sophia shrugs, her eyes scanning the room. “Oh, you know, the usual schmoozing and small talk. But there’s a buzz going around. Apparently, the director has some big announcement planned.”

Your interest piques. “Really? Any idea what it’s about?”

“No clue,” Sophia replies. “But whatever it is, it’s got the board members practically giddy. And you know how rare that is.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. The hospital’s board is notoriously hard to please, a fact you know all too well from your years of lobbying for transplant certification.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Dr. Henri Beaumont, the hospital’s director, takes the stage. The room falls into a respectful hush as he taps the microphone.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. Beaumont begins, his voice carrying across the ballroom. “Thank you all for joining us tonight in support of our wonderful hospital. Your generosity never ceases to amaze me.”

You listen politely, expecting the usual platitudes. But as Dr. Beaumont continues, you feel your heart begin to race.

“Tonight, I have the great pleasure of announcing a new chapter in our hospital’s history,” he says, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Thanks to an incredibly generous donation from one of Monaco’s own, we will be embarking on a project that will revolutionize healthcare in our principality.”

You grip your champagne flute tighter, hardly daring to hope.

“Within the year, our hospital will become fully transplant certified,” Dr. Beaumont announces, his words met with a wave of gasps and excited murmurs. “And that’s not all. This donation will also fund a dedicated medical helicopter, allowing us to transport organs and critical patients with unprecedented speed.”

The room erupts in applause, but you barely hear it over the pounding of your own heart. After years of fighting, of presenting proposal after proposal, it’s finally happening.

“None of this would be possible without the extraordinary generosity of our donor,” Dr. Beaumont continues once the applause dies down. “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in thanking Mr. Charles Leclerc!”

As the room once again breaks into enthusiastic applause, a figure rises from one of the front tables. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognize the man turning to face the crowd.

It’s him. The mysterious Charles from the alley, the man whose life you saved. He looks completely different now — impeccably dressed in a tailored tuxedo, his presence commanding the room’s attention. But those piercing green eyes are unmistakable.

“Y/N?” Sophia’s voice breaks through your shock. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You blink, tearing your gaze away from Charles to look at your friend. “I ... yes, I’m fine. Just surprised, that’s all.”

Sophia raises an eyebrow. “I’ll say. This is everything you’ve been working towards. You must be thrilled!”

“I am,” you assure her, your mind still reeling. “It’s just ... a lot to take in.”

As the applause dies down and the crowd begins to disperse, you find your eyes drawn back to Charles. He’s engaged in conversation with Dr. Beaumont and several board members, but as if sensing your gaze, he looks up. Your eyes meet across the room, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Excuse me,” you murmur to Sophia, setting down your champagne flute. “There’s someone I need to speak with.”

You make your way through the crowd, your heart pounding with each step. As you approach, Charles politely excuses himself from his conversation and turns to face you.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets you, his voice warm. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Mr. Leclerc,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Charles’ smile widens. “I’m full of surprises. Though I believe you already knew that.”

You glance around, noticing the curious looks from nearby guests. “Could we speak privately?”

“Of course,” Charles says, gesturing towards a secluded balcony. “Shall we?”

You follow him out onto the balcony, the cool night air a welcome respite from the crowded ballroom. For a moment, you both stand in silence, looking out over the twinkling lights of Monaco.

“So,” you finally say, turning to face him. “Charles Leclerc. I’m guessing that’s not the name you usually give to people who find you bleeding in alleys.”

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “No, it’s not. But it is my real name.”

“And you’re ... what? A millionaire philanthropist?”

“Among other things,” Charles replies enigmatically.

You cross your arms, studying him. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were that night?”

Charles leans against the balcony railing, his expression turning serious. “Would you have believed me if I had? A man refusing hospital treatment, claiming to be a wealthy businessman?”

You have to admit he has a point. “I suppose not. But this ...” you gesture back towards the ballroom, “This is incredible. The transplant certification, the helicopter ... it’s everything I’ve been fighting for.”

“I know,” Charles says softly.

You blink, surprised. “You know?”

Charles nods. “After that night, I ... may have done some research. I was curious about the remarkable surgeon who saved my life without asking questions or for anything in return.”

“So this donation,” you say slowly, “it’s because of me?”

“In part,” Charles admits. “Your passion for your work, your dedication to improving healthcare here — it’s inspiring. But more than that, I saw an opportunity to do some real good. To maybe balance the scales a bit.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Balance the scales? What exactly is it that you do, Charles?”

He gives you a rueful smile. “Let’s just say my business dealings aren’t always as philanthropic as tonight’s donation might suggest.”

A chill runs down your spine as the pieces start to fall into place. The gunshot wound, the refusal of hospitals, the mysterious “business management” — it all points to one conclusion.

“You’re not just a businessman, are you?” You ask quietly.

Charles holds your gaze, his expression unreadable. “No, I’m not. Are you sure you want to know more?”

You take a deep breath, considering. Part of you wants to walk away, to pretend this conversation never happened. But a larger part — the part that couldn’t leave a bleeding man in an alley, the part that’s drawn to the mystery and danger Charles represents — wants to stay.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “I want to know.”

Charles nods, respect flickering in his eyes. “Very well. But not here. This isn’t a conversation for a crowded gala.”

“Then where?” You ask.

“Have dinner with me,” Charles suggests. “Tomorrow night. I’ll answer all your questions, I promise.”

You hesitate, weighing the risks. But the memory of that night in your apartment, the connection you felt with Charles despite the strange circumstances, makes your decision for you.

“Alright,” you agree. “Dinner tomorrow.”

Charles smiles, relief evident in his features. “Thank you. I’ll send a car for you at eight.”

Just then, the balcony doors open, and Dr. Beaumont steps out. “Ah, there you are, Mr. Leclerc! And Dr. Y/L/N, how wonderful. I was hoping to speak with both of you.”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to hide your frustration at the interruption. “Dr. Beaumont, good evening.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” Dr. Beaumont says, looking between you and Charles.

“Not at all,” Charles replies smoothly. “Dr. Y/L/N was just expressing her excitement about the transplant certification project.”

Dr. Beaumont beams. “Yes, isn’t it marvelous? And it’s all thanks to your generous donation, Mr. Leclerc. We can’t thank you enough.”

“Please,” Charles says, “call me Charles. And the thanks should really go to Dr. Y/L/N here. Her proposals and persistence were what brought this need to my attention.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Dr. Beaumont turns to you, his eyebrows raised. “Is that so? Well, Dr. Y/L/N, it seems we owe you a debt of gratitude as well. Your dedication to this cause has clearly paid off.”

“Thank you, Dr. Beaumont,” you manage, still reeling from Charles’ praise. “I’m just glad we’ll finally be able to offer these life-saving services to our patients.”

“Indeed,” Dr. Beaumont agrees. “In fact, I’d like to discuss the possibility of you heading up the new transplant department. Your expertise would be invaluable in getting the program off the ground.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “I ... I would be honored, sir. Thank you.”

“Excellent!” Dr. Beaumont claps his hands together. “We’ll set up a meeting next week to discuss the details. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to mingle with our other donors. Charles, Dr. Y/L/N, enjoy your evening.”

As Dr. Beaumont retreats back into the ballroom, you turn to Charles, still stunned. “Did you have something to do with that offer?”

Charles holds up his hands innocently. “I merely suggested to Dr. Beaumont that the project would benefit from your leadership. The decision was entirely his.”

You shake your head, a mixture of gratitude and confusion swirling inside you. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“Then don’t say it,” Charles replies softly. “Just promise me you’ll use this opportunity to do what you do best — save lives.”

You nod, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the events of the evening. “I should probably get back inside,” you say reluctantly. “People will be wondering where I’ve gone.”

“Of course,” Charles agrees. “I look forward to our dinner tomorrow. There’s much we need to discuss.”

As you turn to leave, Charles gently catches your hand. “Y/N,” he says, his voice low. “Whatever you learn tomorrow, whatever you decide ... know that my feelings for you are genuine. That night in your apartment, it ... it changed things for me.”

You feel a flutter in your chest at his words. “It changed things for me too,” you admit softly.

Charles brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, then.”

As you make your way back into the ballroom, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions and questions. You spot Sophia across the room, waving you over with a curious expression.

“Spill,” she demands as soon as you reach her. “What was that all about? How do you know Charles Leclerc?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the inexplicable situation you’ve found yourself in.

“It’s ... complicated,” you finally say. “And I think I’m about to find out just how complicated it is.”

***

As the sun sets over Monaco, casting a golden glow across the city, you find yourself standing in front of your apartment building, nervously smoothing down your dress. The sleek Rolls Royce that Charles promised pulls up, and a uniformed driver steps out to open the door for you.

“Good evening, Dr. Y/L/N,” he greets you politely. “Mr. Leclerc is expecting you.”

You slide into the plush leather seat, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive through Monaco’s winding streets is brief but gives you time to collect your thoughts. Before you know it, the car is pulling up to Le Louis XV, arguably the most exclusive restaurant in all of Monaco.

As you step out of the car, you spot Charles waiting for you at the entrance. He’s impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence commanding even among the elite clientele entering the restaurant.

“Y/N,” he greets you warmly, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You look absolutely stunning.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Thank you, Charles. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckles, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

As you enter the restaurant, you’re immediately struck by the opulence of the decor. Crystal chandeliers hang from intricately painted ceilings, and the soft strains of a string quartet fill the air.

The maître d’ greets Charles by name, leading you to a secluded table tucked away in a corner. Charles pulls out your chair for you before taking his own seat across from you.

A waiter approaches, offering you menus. As he leans over to pour water into your glasses, you notice his gaze lingering a bit too long on your neckline. Before you can react, Charles clears his throat sharply.

“I think we’ll need a different server,” he says, his voice cold and authoritative. The waiter pales, stammering an apology before hurrying away.

You raise an eyebrow at Charles. “That was ... intense.”

Charles’ expression softens as he looks at you. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable. I simply don’t tolerate disrespect, especially towards someone I care about.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, but you push it aside, reminding yourself why you’re here. “So,” you say, meeting his gaze, “you promised me answers.”

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “Indeed I did. But first, let’s order. This conversation may take a while.”

Once you’ve placed your orders and the new, much more professional waiter has poured your wine, Charles leans back in his chair, studying you intently.

“What do you know about the Monegasque underworld, Y/N?” He asks quietly.

You shake your head. “Not much, honestly. I know it exists, of course, but it’s not exactly something we discuss in the hospital break room.”

A small smile tugs at Charles’ lips. “No, I suppose not. Well, to put it bluntly, I am what you might call the boss of the Monegasque Mafia.”

Despite your suspicions, hearing him say it so plainly sends a shock through you. “The Mafia? Charles, that’s ...”

“Illegal? Dangerous? Morally questionable?” He finishes for you, his tone wry. “Yes, it’s all of those things.”

You take a sip of your wine, trying to process this information. “How did you end up in that position?”

Charles sighs, his eyes distant. “It’s a long story, but the short version is that I inherited the role from my father. He built this empire, and when he died, it fell to me to maintain it.”

“And the gunshot wound?” You ask, remembering the night you first met.

“A disagreement with a rival organization,” Charles explains. “It’s been dealt with.”

You feel a chill at the implication in his words. “Dealt with how?”

Charles meets your gaze steadily. “Do you really want to know?”

After a moment’s hesitation, you shake your head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Smart,” Charles says approvingly. “The less you know about certain aspects of my business, the safer you’ll be.”

The waiter returns with your appetizers, providing a brief respite from the heavy conversation. As you start to eat, you find your mind whirling with questions.

“Why are you telling me all this?” You finally ask. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to reveal your identity?”

Charles nods slowly. “It is. But I trust you, Y/N. That night in your apartment, when you helped me without question, without judgment — it showed me what kind of person you are. And I find myself ... unwilling to lie to you.”

His honesty touches you, despite the circumstances. “I appreciate that, Charles. But where does this leave us? What happens now?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes intense. “That depends on you. I won’t lie — being associated with me comes with risks. But it also comes with benefits, as you’ve seen with the hospital donation.”

“Is that what this is about?” You ask, a hint of disappointment creeping into your voice. “You’re trying to buy my loyalty?”

“No,” Charles says firmly. “The donation was genuine. Your passion inspired me to do some good. This ... this is something else entirely.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath. “I have a proposition for you. I’d like you to work for me, as my personal doctor when the need arises.”

You blink in surprise. “Your personal doctor? But I’m a surgeon, not a general practitioner.”

“Exactly,” Charles nods. “In my line of work, emergency surgical skills are more valuable than routine check-ups. You’d be on call for me and my ... associates when medical attention is needed discreetly.”

You sit back, considering his words. “That sounds an awful lot like being a mob doctor, Charles.”

He doesn’t deny it. “It is. But it would also give you the opportunity to save lives that might otherwise be lost. And I can promise you, the compensation would be ... substantial.”

The waiter returns to clear your plates and bring the main course, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts. As you cut into your perfectly cooked steak, you mull over Charles’ offer.

“What about my work at the hospital?” You ask. “I can’t just abandon that, especially not now that we’re getting the transplant certification.”

Charles shakes his head. “I wouldn’t ask you to. This would be in addition to your regular work, called upon only when necessary. Your hospital duties would always come first.”

You take a sip of wine, studying Charles over the rim of your glass. “And what if I refuse? What happens then?”

“Then you walk out of here, go back to your life, and we never speak of this again,” Charles says simply. “I meant what I said, Y/N. I trust you. If you choose not to be involved, I know you’ll keep my secret.”

His sincerity is clear, and you find yourself believing him. “Can I ask you something, Charles?”

“Anything,” he replies.

“Why me? Surely there are other doctors you could approach, ones with more ... flexible ethics, perhaps?”

Charles’ expression softens. “Because you’re extraordinary, Y/N. Your skill, your compassion, your integrity — they’re rare qualities, especially in my world. And selfishly, perhaps, I want to keep you in my life.”

His words send a warmth spreading through your chest, and you find yourself at a crossroads. On one hand, everything you know tells you to walk away, to keep your life simple and safe. But on the other ...

“What would it entail, exactly?” You ask, surprising yourself.

A glimmer of hope appears in Charles’ eyes. “Primarily, it would involve treating injuries that can’t be taken to a hospital — gunshot wounds, knife punctures, that sort of thing. Occasionally, there might be a need for more ... specialized care.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Specialized how?”

“Let’s just say that sometimes, information needs to be obtained through methods that aren’t entirely ... ethical,” Charles says carefully.

You feel a chill run down your spine. “You mean torture.”

Charles doesn’t flinch from the word. “Yes. Your role would be to ensure that lines aren’t crossed, that no permanent damage is done. To save lives, even in the darkest of circumstances.”

You take a deep breath, trying to reconcile the charming man across from you with the brutal world he’s describing. “I don’t know if I can do that, Charles. It goes against everything I believe in as a doctor.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “I know. And I wouldn’t ask you to participate directly. Your job would be to mitigate harm, to heal. Nothing more.”

As the waiter clears your plates and offers dessert menus, you find yourself at a loss for words. Charles watches you carefully, giving you space to process.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Take some time to think about it. Weigh the pros and cons. I know it’s not an easy decision.”

You nod, grateful for the reprieve. “Thank you. I ... I will think about it.”

As you share a decadent chocolate dessert, the conversation shifts to lighter topics. Charles tells you about his childhood in Monaco, and you share stories from your medical school days. Despite the heavy subject matter earlier, you find yourself laughing and enjoying Charles’ company.

All too soon, the evening draws to a close. Charles insists on walking you out, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you exit the restaurant.

As you wait for the valet to bring his car around, Charles turns to face you, his expression serious once more.

“Thank you for hearing me out tonight, Y/N,” he says softly. “Whatever you decide, know that I meant every word. You’re an extraordinary woman, and I’m honored to know you.”

Before you can respond, Charles leans in, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth in a kiss that’s both chaste and charged with potential. You feel your breath catch in your throat, your heart racing at his proximity.

As he pulls back, Charles meets your gaze, his green eyes intense. “Think about my offer. And when you’ve made your decision, good or bad, call me.”

With that, he steps back, leaving you feeling slightly dazed as the valet pulls up with his car. Charles opens the passenger door for you, ever the gentleman.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says softly. “I hope to hear from you soon.”

As the car pulls away from the curb, your mind is a whirlwind of emotions and conflicting thoughts. You touch your fingers to the spot where Charles kissed you, still feeling the ghost of his lips.

Part of you knows you should run as far and fast as you can from Charles Leclerc and the dangerous world he inhabits. But a larger part – the part that yearns for excitement, for purpose beyond the hospital walls – is already considering his offer.

As Monaco’s glittering lights pass by outside the car window, you realize that no matter what you decide, your life will never be the same. The question is, are you ready to take the leap into the unknown?

With Charles’ business card burning a hole in your purse and the memory of his kiss lingering on your skin, you know that the decision you make will shape not just your future, but potentially the future of Monaco itself.

***

The shrill ring of your phone pierces the quiet of your bedroom, jolting you awake. Fumbling in the darkness, you grab your phone, squinting at the bright screen. Unknown number.

Your heart races as you answer, “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Charles’ voice comes through, tense and urgent. “I’m sorry to wake you.”

Sitting up, suddenly alert, you reply, “Charles? What’s wrong?”

There’s a brief pause before he continues, “I wish I could give you more time to consider my offer, but I’m afraid circumstances have forced my hand. One of my associates is badly injured and needs immediate medical attention.”

You can hear the strain in his voice as he continues, “If you’re willing to accept my offer, I’ll have someone pick you up right now. If not, I understand, and I’ll look for help elsewhere. But I need to know your decision now.”

Your mind races, weighing the implications. This is it — the moment of truth. Do you step into Charles’ world or walk away?

Taking a deep breath, you make your choice. “I’ll do it. Send the car.”

You can almost hear Charles’ relief through the phone. “Thank you, Y/N. A car will be there in five minutes. Be ready.”

The line goes dead, and you spring into action. Throwing on clothes and grabbing a bag with some basic medical supplies, you’re waiting outside your building when a sleek black car pulls up.

The drive is tense and silent. The driver, a stern-faced man, offers no conversation as he speeds through Monaco’s empty streets. Within minutes, you’re pulling up to an expansive, gated compound.

As soon as the car stops, the front door of the mansion flies open. Charles strides out, his face etched with worry.

“Y/N,” he greets you, guiding you quickly inside. “Thank you for coming. Follow me.”

You hurry after him through opulent hallways, your mind struggling to take in the surroundings. “What happened, Charles? Who’s hurt?”

“My right-hand man, Pierre,” Charles explains as he leads you down a staircase. “He was ambushed leaving a meeting. Took a bullet to the chest.”

You nod, your mind already racing through possibilities. “How long ago?”

“About an hour,” Charles replies, pushing open a door.

You step into what appears to be a fully-equipped operating room. On the table lies a man, his breathing labored and shirt soaked with blood.

Rushing to his side, you begin your examination. “Pierre? I’m Dr. Y/L/N. Can you hear me?”

Pierre’s eyes flutter open, filled with pain. “Y-yes,” he manages to wheeze.

You turn to Charles, who’s hovering nearby. “I need to examine him properly. Can you help me remove his shirt?”

As you and Charles carefully cut away Pierre’s bloodied shirt, you assess the wound. The bullet hole is below his right collarbone, and his breathing is increasingly strained.

“The bullet’s punctured his lung,” you announce, your mind already formulating a plan. “He needs surgery immediately. Charles, I’ll need assistance. Are you up for it?”

Charles nods without hesitation. “Tell me what to do.”

You quickly outline the procedure as you prep Pierre for surgery. “We need to reinflate his lung and remove the bullet. It’s going to be tricky, but we don’t have time to get him to a hospital.”

As you work, you fall into a focused rhythm, your years of training taking over. Charles proves to be a capable assistant, following your instructions precisely.

“Suction here,” you direct, carefully navigating the delicate lung tissue. “Good. Now hold this retractor steady.”

Hours pass in a blur of intense concentration. Finally, you step back, exhaling deeply. “I think we’ve done it. The lung’s reinflated and the bullet’s out. He’s not out of the woods yet, but his chances are good.”

Charles looks at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude. “Y/N, I ... thank you. You’ve saved his life.”

You nod, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion. “He’ll need close monitoring for the next 24 hours. Is there somewhere I can clean up?”

Charles leads you to an adjacent bathroom, where you wash the blood from your skin. As you emerge, you find Charles waiting, two glasses of whiskey in hand.

“I thought you might need this,” he says, offering you a glass.

You accept it gratefully, taking a long sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly, helping to calm your frayed nerves.

“So,” you say, meeting Charles’ gaze. “I guess this makes it official. I’m your doctor now.”

Charles nods solemnly. “Indeed. And I can’t express how grateful I am. Not just for tonight, but for taking this risk.”

You lean against the wall, suddenly feeling the weight of your decision. “I still have questions, Charles. About all of this. About what I’m getting myself into.”

“Of course,” Charles agrees. “Ask me anything. You deserve to know what you’re part of now.”

Taking a deep breath, you begin, “How often can I expect nights like this? And what exactly is the nature of your ... business?”

Charles considers his words carefully. “Nights like this are, thankfully, rare. Most of what I’ll need from you will be more routine — treating minor injuries, regular check-ups for my key people. As for my business ...” He pauses, taking a sip of his whiskey. “It’s complex. We have interests in various sectors — some legitimate, some less so. Gambling, real estate, import and export. And yes, sometimes that involves activities that aren’t entirely legal.”

You nod slowly, processing this information. “And the violence? The rivalries that led to Pierre getting shot?”

“An unfortunate reality of our world,” Charles admits. “We try to minimize it, but conflicts do arise. My goal is always to resolve things peacefully, but sometimes ...” He gestures towards the operating room, where Pierre lies recovering.

“I see,” you murmur. “And my role in all this? Beyond providing medical care, I mean.”

Charles’ expression softens. “Your role, Y/N, is to be a light in this sometimes dark world. To save lives, to minimize harm. And perhaps ... to remind people like me that there’s good in the world worth protecting.”

His words touch something deep inside you, and you find yourself nodding. “I think I can do that.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only when a monitor in the operating room beeps. You both rush to check on Pierre, finding his vitals stable.

As you adjust his IV, you ask, “So, what happens now? Do I just ... go home and wait for the next emergency call?”

Charles shakes his head. “Not quite. I’d like you to stay here for the next day or so, to monitor Pierre’s recovery. After that, we’ll set up a more formal arrangement. You’ll have a secure phone for communications and a driver on call for when you’re needed.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And my regular job at the hospital?”

“Remains your priority,” Charles assures you. “This work will always come second to that. I don’t want to jeopardize your career or the good you do there.”

Relieved, you nod. “Alright. And ... us? Where do we stand?”

Charles steps closer, his eyes intense. “That is entirely up to you. My feelings haven’t changed since our dinner. But I understand if this is too much, too complicated.”

You find yourself drawn to him, despite the rational part of your brain screaming caution. “It is complicated. But ... I can’t deny there’s something here. Something worth exploring.”

A smile spreads across Charles’ face, genuine and warm. “I’m glad to hear that. We’ll take it slow, see where this leads us.”

Just then, Pierre stirs on the operating table, groaning softly. You both move to his side, your instincts taking over once again.

“Pierre?” You call softly. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes flutter open, unfocused at first but then settling on you. “Who ... where am I?”

Charles steps into his line of sight. “You’re safe, my friend. This is Dr. Y/L/N. She saved your life tonight.”

Pierre’s eyes widen in recognition. “The surgeon ... from the alley. You recruited her?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “It’s a long story. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” Pierre croaks, attempting a weak smile.

You check his vitals as you explain, “The bullet punctured your lung. We’ve repaired the damage, but you’re going to need time to recover. No strenuous activity for at least a month.”

Pierre nods, then looks to Charles. “The meeting ... did we get the information?”

Charles places a hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “We did, thanks to you. But don’t worry about that now. Focus on getting better.”

As Pierre drifts back to sleep, you turn to Charles. “He needs rest. And so do we, for that matter.”

Charles nods in agreement. “I’ll show you to a guest room. We should both try to get some sleep before morning.”

As you follow Charles through the mansion, the events of the night start to catch up with you. By the time you reach the luxurious guest suite, you’re practically swaying on your feet.

“Get some rest,” Charles says softly. “I’ll have some fresh clothes brought for you in the morning.”

As he turns to leave, you catch his hand. “Charles ... thank you. For trusting me with this.”

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “No, Y/N. Thank you for taking this leap of faith. Sleep well.”

As the door closes behind him, you sink onto the plush bed, your mind whirling with the night’s events. You’ve crossed a line tonight, stepped into a world you never imagined being part of. But as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement about what the future might hold.

For better or worse, your life will never be the same again.

***

As the weeks pass following that fateful night, you begin to notice subtle yet undeniable changes in your daily life. It starts with a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, a feeling of being watched that you can’t quite shake. At first, you dismiss it as paranoia, a natural reaction to your new connection with Charles’ world. But then you start to catch glimpses — a man in a dark suit lingering across the street from your apartment, a familiar face that seems to pop up wherever you go.

One morning, as you’re grabbing coffee before work, you decide to confront the situation. Turning abruptly, you lock eyes with a tall, broad-shouldered man who’s been tailing you for the past few blocks.

“Alright,” you say, crossing your arms. “Who are you and why are you following me?”

The man looks momentarily surprised before his face settles into a neutral expression. “Mr. Leclerc assigned me to ensure your safety, Dr. Y/L/N. I’m not meant to interfere with your daily life.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And does Charles think I need a bodyguard to get my morning coffee?”

The man — you decide to call him Shadow in your head — gives a small shrug. “Mr. Leclerc believes in being thorough. I’m here to protect you from any potential threats.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “Fine. But can you at least try to be a little less ... obvious? I don’t need my colleagues at the hospital getting suspicious.”

Shadow nods. “Of course. I’ll maintain a more discreet distance.”

As you continue your walk to the hospital, you can’t help but feel a mix of irritation and a strange sort of warmth at Charles’ protective instincts.

The surprises don’t stop there. Later that week, you return home from a long shift to find a large, elegantly wrapped package outside your door. Curious, you bring it inside and carefully open it.

Inside, you find a stunning designer handbag — one you vaguely remember admiring in a shop window weeks ago. Attached is a simple note:

A beautiful bag for a beautiful doctor – CL

You can’t help but smile, even as you shake your head at the extravagance. Pulling out your phone, you send a quick text to Charles.

The bag is gorgeous, but you really didn’t have to.

His reply comes moments later.

I wanted to.

Is it not to your liking?

You chuckle, typing back.

It’s perfect. But you don’t need to shower me with gifts.

Perhaps not. But I enjoy it. Allow me this small pleasure?

Rolling your eyes fondly, you respond.

Fine. But nothing too outrageous, okay?

You can almost hear his chuckle in his reply.

I make no promises.

True to his word, the gifts keep coming. A rare first edition of your favorite medical text. A pair of ridiculously comfortable designer shoes that somehow fit perfectly. Each accompanied by a note signed simply “CL”.

But it’s not just the material things that change. One day, as you’re buried in paperwork at the hospital, a delicious aroma wafts into your office. You look up to see your colleague standing in the doorway with a bag from your favorite local restaurant.

“Special delivery,” Sophia says with a grin, setting the bag on your desk.

You blink in surprise. “I didn’t order anything.”

Her grin widens. “No, but apparently you have a very thoughtful admirer. This has been showing up every day for the past week. The nurses have been taking turns bringing it up.”

Your cheeks flush as you open the bag, finding a perfectly prepared lunch and another note from Charles.

Sophia leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, who’s the mystery man? Anyone I know?”

You quickly tuck the note away. “It’s ... complicated. We’re still figuring things out.”

“Uh-huh,” Sophia says, clearly not buying it. “Well, whoever he is, he’s got good taste. In food and women.”

As Sophia leaves, you can’t help but smile. Despite the complexity of your situation with Charles, these small gestures warm your heart.

The changes extend beyond gifts and food, though. You start to notice that things at the hospital seem to be running more smoothly. Bureaucratic hurdles that used to take weeks to clear now resolve themselves in days. Equipment requests that were once denied due to budget constraints are suddenly approved.

One afternoon, you’re in a meeting with Dr. Beaumont, discussing the progress of the new transplant center.

“I must say, Dr. Y/L/N,” Beaumont says, beaming, “the speed at which we’re moving forward is remarkable. It’s as if all the red tape has simply ... vanished.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suspecting Charles’ influence but unable to confirm it. “Yes, it’s ... quite fortunate.”

Beaumont leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think our generous donor, Mr. Leclerc, might have something to do with it. He seems to have friends in high places.”

You force a neutral expression. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

Beaumont chuckles. “Let’s just say that certain government officials who were dragging their feet on approvals suddenly became very cooperative after a few calls from Mr. Leclerc’s office. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

As you leave the meeting, your mind is whirling. You appreciate the help, but the extent of Charles’ influence is starting to sink in. That evening, you decide it’s time for a face-to-face conversation.

You send Charles a text.

We need to talk. Dinner tonight?

His reply is almost immediate.

Of course. I’ll send a car. 8 PM?

At eight sharp, you find yourself being ushered into an exclusive rooftop restaurant. Charles is waiting, looking as handsome and composed as ever in a perfectly tailored suit.

He stands as you approach, pulling out your chair. “Y/N, you look lovely.”

You sit, fixing him with a serious look. “Charles, we need to discuss a few things.”

His expression turns concerned. “Is everything alright?”

Taking a deep breath, you begin. “The bodyguard, the gifts, the lunch deliveries ... it’s all very sweet, but it’s a bit much. And the thing with the hospital — are you pulling strings to make things happen?”

Charles listens intently, his face unreadable. When you finish, he leans back, considering his words carefully.

“I apologize if I’ve overstepped,” he says finally. “The protection is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. Your safety is paramount to me. But if the gifts make you uncomfortable, I can scale them back.”

You nod, relieved he’s listening. “And the hospital situation?”

Charles sighs. “I may have ... encouraged certain officials to be more cooperative. But I assure you, it was all above board. No bribes, no threats. Just a gentle reminder of how beneficial the new transplant center will be for Monaco.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Gentle reminder, huh? And I suppose your reputation had nothing to do with it?”

A small smirk plays at the corner of Charles’ mouth. “I may have a certain ... influence. But I used it for a good cause. The transplant center will save lives, Y/N. Isn’t that what matters?”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Charles reaches across the table, taking your hand. “I know my world is very different from yours, Y/N. I’m trying to bridge that gap, to make things easier for you. But if I’m going about it the wrong way, tell me. I want you to be comfortable with this ... with us.”

The sincerity in his eyes touches you. “I appreciate that, Charles. I do. I just ... I need to feel like I’m still in control of my own life, you know? Like I’m not just being swept along in your wake.”

Charles nods, squeezing your hand gently. “I understand. From now on, I’ll consult you before making any decisions that affect your life. No more surprises. Well, fewer surprises, at least.”

You laugh, feeling the tension dissipate. “I suppose I can live with that. But maybe we can compromise on the bodyguard situation? I don’t need a shadow 24/7.”

“How about this,” Charles proposes, “The security detail maintains a distance unless you’re entering or leaving your apartment or the hospital. They’ll be there if you need them, but not constantly in your space. Would that work?”

You consider for a moment, then nod. “I can live with that. Thank you for listening.”

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Always, Y/N. Your happiness and comfort are important to me.”

As the waiter approaches to take your order, you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening with Charles. The conversation flows easily, touching on your work at the hospital, Charles’ legitimate business ventures, and your shared love of classical music.

By the time dessert arrives, you’re feeling more at ease with the situation than you have in weeks.

“Charles,” you say, savoring a spoonful of soufflé, “I have to ask. How did you know about the handbag? The one I admired weeks ago?”

A mischievous glint appears in Charles’ eyes. “I have my ways. Let’s just say I pay attention to the things that catch your eye.”

You shake your head, amused. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees with a smile. “But admit it, you’re starting to enjoy it.”

As you leave the restaurant, Charles’ hand resting lightly on the small of your back, you realize that he’s right. Despite the complexity, despite the lingering concerns about his world, you are enjoying this. Enjoying him.

Charles walks you to the waiting car, opening the door for you. Before you get in, he catches your hand, his expression turning serious.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that I treasure what’s growing between us. I know my world is complicated, often dangerous. But with you ... I see a possibility for something real, something good. I hope you can be patient with me as we navigate this.”

Touched by his honesty, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m here, aren’t I? We’ll figure it out together.”

As the car pulls away, Charles watching from the curb, you lean back in your seat, a small smile playing on your lips. Your life has certainly become more complicated since that night in the alley. But as you reflect on the past few weeks — the challenges, the surprises, the growing connection with Charles — you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement about what the future might hold.

***

The cool evening air greets you as you exit the hospital, your shift finally over. You roll your shoulders, easing the tension from a long day of surgeries. As you walk towards your car, your mind drifts to Charles, wondering if he’ll be free for a late dinner.

Suddenly, a sharp prick in your neck startles you. Before you can react, a wave of dizziness washes over you. The world tilts, your vision blurring. You try to call out, but your voice fails you. As darkness encroaches, your last conscious thought is of Charles.

When you come to, it’s to a pounding headache and disorientation. You blink, trying to focus. The room is dimly lit, cold, with bare concrete walls. As awareness creeps back, you realize you’re strapped to a chair, your wrists and ankles bound tightly.

Panic rises in your throat, but you force it down, trying to assess the situation. You’re still in your scrubs, which means you haven’t been unconscious for too long. There are no windows, no indication of where you might be.

The creak of a door opening snaps your attention forward. A man enters — relatively tall, curly-haired, with a scar running down the left side of his face. His eyes, when they meet yours, are cold and calculating.

“Ah, Dr. Y/L/N,” he says, his voice carrying a slight Italian accent. “So good of you to join us. I hope you’re comfortable.”

You glare at him, finding your voice. “Who are you? What do you want?”

The man chuckles, pulling up a chair to sit across from you. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Mattia Binotto. And as for what I want ...” He leans in, his gaze intense. “I want Charles Leclerc.”

Your heart races, but you keep your expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mattia’s laugh is harsh. “Come now, Doctor. Let’s not play games. I know all about your ... relationship with Charles. I’ve been watching you both for quite some time.”

“Why?” You demand, tugging futilely at your restraints. “What does Charles have to do with this?”

Mattia leans back, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Everything, my dear. You see, I used to work for Charles’ father. I was his right-hand man, his most trusted advisor. And how did the old man repay my loyalty? By kicking me out, exiling me from Monaco.”

You listen, your mind racing. Charles had mentioned conflicts within the organization, but this ... this was something else entirely.

“So this is about revenge?” You ask, trying to keep him talking.

Mattia’s eyes flash dangerously. “Revenge, yes. But also reclamation. What was taken from me, I intend to take back. And you, my dear doctor, are the perfect bait.”

Fear claws at your insides, but you push it down, channeling it into anger instead. “Charles won’t fall for this. He’s smarter than that.”

“Oh, I’m counting on his intelligence,” Mattia says, standing up and beginning to pace. “You see, Charles knows exactly who I am and what I’m capable of. He’ll come for you, make no mistake. And when he does ...” Mattia’s smile is chilling. “Well, let’s just say I have quite the reunion planned.”

You struggle against your bonds, your mind whirling. “You’re insane if you think you can take on Charles and his entire organization.”

Mattia stops pacing, turning to face you. “Insane? No, Doctor. Prepared. I’ve spent years planning this, gathering allies, waiting for the perfect moment. And you ...” He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You jerk away from his touch. “You are the key to it all.”

“Don’t touch me,” you snarl, glaring up at him.

Mattia chuckles. “Feisty. I can see why Charles is so taken with you. It will make breaking you all the more satisfying.”

A chill runs down your spine at his words. “If you hurt me, Charles will-”

“Charles will what?” Mattia interrupts, his voice mocking. “Come charging in to save you? That’s exactly what I’m counting on, my dear.”

You fall silent, realizing that every word you say is potentially giving Mattia more ammunition. Instead, you focus on studying your surroundings, looking for any potential way out.

Mattia seems to sense your shift in focus. He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “Don’t bother looking for escape routes. This room was designed to hold people far more dangerous than you. You’re not going anywhere until Charles arrives.”

Pulling back, he checks his watch. “Speaking of which, I imagine he’s discovered your absence by now. Shall we give him a call?”

Your eyes widen as Mattia pulls out a phone — your phone. He scrolls through your contacts, finding Charles’ number.

“No, don’t-” you start, but Mattia silences you with a sharp look.

He puts the phone on speaker as it rings. After two rings, Charles’ voice comes through, tense and worried. “Y/N? Where are you? Your security detail lost track of you hours ago.”

Mattia’s grin is triumphant as he speaks. “Hello, Charles. It’s been a long time.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Charles responds, his voice low and dangerous. “Mattia. If you’ve hurt her, I swear-”

“Now, now,” Mattia interrupts. “Your precious doctor is fine. For now. Whether she stays that way depends entirely on you.”

You can’t stay silent any longer. “Charles, don’t listen to him! It’s a trap!”

Mattia backhands you, the slap echoing in the small room. “Quiet!”

“Y/N!” Charles’ voice is anguished. “Mattia, I’m warning you-”

“You’re warning me?” Mattia laughs. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making threats. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to come alone to the address I’m about to send you. If I see any of your men, if I even suspect you’ve involved your friends in the police, the good doctor here will suffer the consequences. Understood?”

There’s a tense pause before Charles responds. “I understand. Let me speak to her.”

Mattia considers for a moment, then holds the phone closer to you. “Make it quick.”

“Charles,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Don’t do this. It’s not worth-”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Charles interrupts, his voice intense. “I’m coming for you. Just hold on. I promise, I’ll make this right.”

Before you can respond, Mattia pulls the phone away. “How touching. You have one hour, Charles. Come alone or she dies.”

He ends the call, turning to you with a satisfied smirk. “And now, we wait.”

The next hour is agonizing. Mattia leaves you alone in the room, your mind racing with possibilities, each worse than the last. You test your restraints, but they hold firm. The chair is bolted to the floor, leaving you no way to move.

Just when you think you can’t take the suspense any longer, the door opens. Your heart leaps, thinking it might be Charles, but it’s Mattia who enters, followed by two burly men.

“It seems your knight in shining armor has arrived,” Mattia announces, his eyes glinting with malice. “Let’s make sure we give him a proper welcome, shall we?”

He nods to one of the men, who moves behind you. You feel the cold press of a gun barrel against your temple.

“Is this really necessary?” You ask, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.

Mattia shrugs. “Insurance, my dear. Can’t have you trying anything heroic when Charles arrives.”

As if on cue, there’s a commotion outside the room. The door bursts open and Charles strides in, his eyes immediately finding yours.

“Y/N,” he breathes, relief and worry warring in his expression.

“Charles, no,” you plead. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s a trap!”

Mattia steps forward, clapping slowly. “Bravo, Charles. Right on time, and alone, as instructed. I must say, I’m impressed by your obedience.”

Charles tears his gaze from you to glare at Mattia. “Let her go, Mattia. This is between us.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mattia replies, circling around to stand behind you. He places his hands on your shoulders, and you struggle not to flinch. “You see, your lovely doctor here is my insurance policy. Insurance that you’ll listen very carefully to what I have to say.”

Charles’ jaw clenches, but he remains still. “Say your piece, then.”

Mattia’s grip on your shoulders tightens. “It’s quite simple, really. I want what’s rightfully mine. The position your father stole from me, the respect I deserve. You’re going to step down, hand over control of the organization to me, and leave Monaco. Forever.”

You can’t stay silent any longer. “Charles, don’t do it! You can’t trust him!”

The gun presses harder against your temple, silencing you.

Charles’ eyes flick between you and Mattia, his expression unreadable. “And if I refuse?”

Mattia’s laugh is cold. “Then you get to watch your beloved doctor die, slowly and painfully, before I kill you too. Your choice, Charles.”

The tension in the room is palpable as Charles considers his options. You try to catch his eye, to silently communicate that your life isn’t worth the price Mattia is demanding. But Charles’ gaze is fixed on Mattia, his mind clearly racing.

Finally, Charles speaks, his voice eerily calm. “You’ve made one critical mistake, Mattia.”

Mattia’s eyebrows raise. “Oh? And what’s that?”

A small, dangerous smile plays at the corner of Charles’ lips. “You assumed I came alone.”

In that instant, several things happen at once. The lights in the room suddenly cut out, plunging everything into darkness. You hear the sound of breaking glass, followed by several muffled thuds. Someone grabs you, and for a moment you panic, thinking it’s Mattia. But then a familiar voice whispers in your ear.

“It’s me, Y/N. Hold still.”

It’s Pierre. You feel him cutting through your restraints. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you make out shapes moving in the room — Charles’ men, you realize, taking down Mattia’s guards.

When the lights flicker back on, the scene has completely changed. Mattia and his men are on the ground, subdued by Charles’ team. Charles himself is standing over Mattia, a gun pointed at his head.

“You’re right, Mattia,” Charles says, his voice cold. “This was between us. You should have left Y/N out of it.”

As Pierre helps you to your feet, you stumble, your legs weak from being bound for so long. Charles is at your side in an instant, supporting you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his eyes scanning you for injuries.

You nod, still trying to process what just happened. “I’m okay. How did you ...”

Charles manages a small smile. “Did you really think I’d come unprepared? My men were in position before I ever entered the building.”

You lean into him, relief washing over you. “I thought ... I was so scared you’d give in to his demands.”

Charles’ arm tightens around you. “Never. I would never let him hurt you, Y/N.”

As Charles’ men secure Mattia and begin to lead him away, you turn to Charles. “What happens now?”

Charles’ expression turns grim. “Now, we make sure Mattia can never threaten us again. And then ...” He looks down at you, his eyes softening. “Then we talk about upgrading your security. Because I’m never letting something like this happen again.”

***

The morning after your harrowing ordeal, you find yourself seated in the hospital’s main conference room, feeling as though you’ve stepped into some sort of surreal dream. To your left sits Charles, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. Across the table, the hospital’s board of directors fidget nervously, their eyes darting between you, Charles, and Dr. Beaumont, who sits at the head of the table.

The tension in the room is palpable as Dr. Beaumont clears his throat. “Well, Mr. Leclerc, Dr. Y/L/N, thank you for meeting with us on such short notice. I understand there’s been some ... concerns about security?”

Charles leans forward, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel. “Concerns would be putting it mildly, Dr. Beaumont. Dr. Y/L/N was kidnapped from your parking lot last night. I think that warrants more than just concern.”

You can see the color drain from Dr. Beaumont’s face. “Kidnapped? I ... we had no idea. Dr. Y/L/N, are you alright?”

All eyes turn to you, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “I’m fine, thank you. It was a ... misunderstanding that’s been resolved.”

Charles’ hand finds yours under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “A misunderstanding that could have ended very differently. Which is why we’re here to discuss new security measures.”

Dr. Beaumont nods, still looking shaken. “Of course, of course. What did you have in mind?”

“Two of my personal security team will accompany Dr. Y/L/N at all times while she’s on hospital grounds,” Charles states, his tone brooking no argument.

There’s a moment of stunned silence before one of the board members, Dr. Rossi, speaks up. “Mr. Leclerc, while we certainly understand your concern, having armed guards in a hospital environment is highly unorthodox. It could make patients uncomfortable, not to mention the potential liability issues ...”

Charles’ eyes narrow. “I’m not particularly concerned with what’s orthodox, Dr. Rossi. I’m concerned with Y/N’s safety.”

You decide to intervene, hoping to smooth things over. “Perhaps we could find a compromise? The security team could maintain a discreet distance, only stepping in if necessary?”

Dr. Beaumont latches onto this suggestion eagerly. “Yes, that sounds more reasonable. We could provide them with visitor badges, allow them access to staff areas ...”

“No,” Charles cuts in firmly. “They stay with Y/N at all times. This isn’t up for negotiation.”

Another board member, Dr. Chen, leans forward. “Mr. Leclerc, please understand our position. We have protocols, regulations to follow. Having armed personnel constantly present could jeopardize our accreditation.”

Charles’ smile is cold. “I’m sure exceptions can be made, Dr. Chen. After all, I’d hate to think that the hospital values bureaucratic red tape over the safety of its star surgeon.”

The implied threat hangs heavy in the air. You can see the administrators exchanging nervous glances.

Dr. Beaumont attempts to regain control of the situation. “Now, let’s not be hasty. I’m sure we can come to an agreement that satisfies everyone. Mr. Leclerc, what if we were to increase our own security measures? Install more cameras, hire additional guards ...”

Charles shakes his head. “Not good enough. My men are highly trained professionals. They stay with Y/N.”

You can see the frustration building on the faces of the board members. Dr. Rossi tries again. “Mr. Leclerc, please be reasonable. We can’t just allow civilians to roam freely through sensitive areas of the hospital. There are privacy concerns, not to mention-”

“I think you misunderstand me,” Charles interrupts, his voice dangerously soft. “This isn’t a request. It’s happening. The only question is whether you choose to cooperate or not.”

The threat in his words is unmistakable. You watch as the color drains from Dr. Rossi’s face.

Feeling the need to defuse the tension, you speak up. “Perhaps we could implement this on a trial basis? See how it works for a month and then reassess?”

Dr. Beaumont seizes on this suggestion like a lifeline. “Yes, excellent idea, Dr. Y/L/N. A trial period would allow us to address any issues that arise and make adjustments as necessary.”

Charles considers this for a moment before nodding slowly. “A trial period is acceptable, provided there’s no interference with my security team’s duties.”

Relief is palpable around the table, but it’s short-lived as Charles continues.

“Of course, I understand this arrangement may cause some ... inconvenience for the hospital. To that end, I’m prepared to make an additional donation to help smooth things over.”

The board members perk up at this, their expressions shifting from worry to interest.

Dr. Beaumont leans forward eagerly. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Leclerc. What sort of donation did you have in mind?”

Charles’ smile is predatory. “Let’s say ... sixteen million euros, to be used at the hospital’s discretion. Provided, of course, that my security requirements are met without further argument.”

The room falls silent as the enormity of the offer sinks in. You can practically see the dollar signs in the administrators’ eyes.

Dr. Chen is the first to recover. “Mr. Leclerc, that’s an incredibly generous offer. I’m sure we can work out the details of the security arrangement to everyone’s satisfaction.”

Charles nods, satisfied. “I’m glad we understand each other. Now, shall we discuss the specifics?”

What follows is a detailed negotiation of the security protocols. You watch, somewhat bemused, as the very same administrators who were stammering objections moments ago now fall over themselves to accommodate Charles’ every demand.

By the end of the meeting, it’s agreed that Charles’ security team will have full access to all areas of the hospital, will be allowed to carry concealed weapons, and will have final say on any security matters relating to you.

As the meeting wraps up, Dr. Beaumont turns to you, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Dr. Y/L/N, I hope you know that your safety is our utmost concern. If there’s anything else we can do ...”

You manage a small smile. “Thank you, Dr. Beaumont. I appreciate the hospital’s flexibility in this matter.”

As you and Charles stand to leave, Dr. Beaumont calls out, “Mr. Leclerc, a word in private, if you don’t mind?”

Charles nods, turning to you. “I’ll be right out, Y/N.”

You exit the conference room, your mind whirling. As you wait in the hallway, you overhear snippets of the conversation inside.

Dr. Beaumont’s voice, low and eager, “... sure there isn’t anything else we should know?”

Charles’ reply, cool and dismissive, “... all you need to concern yourself with ...”

A moment later, Charles emerges, his expression softening as he sees you. “Ready to go?”

You nod, falling into step beside him as you walk towards the elevator. “Don’t you think this is all a bit ... excessive?”

He stops, turning to face you. “After what happened last night, I’m not taking any chances with your safety. I can’t lose you.”

The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard. You reach out, touching his arm gently. “You won’t lose me. But Charles, this is my workplace. I need to be able to do my job without feeling like I’m under constant surveillance.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know. And I’m sorry if this complicates things for you. But please, just give it a chance. For my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

You study his face, seeing the worry lines etched around his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Despite your reservations, you find yourself nodding. “Alright. We’ll try it your way. But if it becomes too disruptive ...”

“Then we’ll reassess,” Charles finishes, relief evident in his voice. “Thank you, Y/N.”

As you step into the elevator, you can’t help but wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. The world of medicine, with its clear rules and ethical guidelines, seems far removed from Charles’ realm of shadowy deals and armed guards.

“Charles,” you say as the elevator descends, “what exactly did Dr. Beaumont want to discuss in private?”

Charles’ expression turns guarded. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just some details about the donation.”

You’re not entirely convinced, but you decide not to push it. As the elevator doors open, you’re greeted by the sight of two men in suits — clearly Charles’ security team.

Charles nods to them. “This is Andrea and Joris. They’ll be your primary security detail.”

You force a smile, extending your hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

Andrea and Joris nod respectfully, but their expressions remain impassive. You can already tell that this is going to take some getting used to.

As you walk through the hospital lobby, you’re acutely aware of the stares and whispers from staff and patients alike. Charles seems oblivious to the attention, but you feel your cheeks heating up.

“Charles,” you murmur, “people are staring.”

He glances around, then shrugs. “Let them stare. Your safety is more important than gossip.”

You’re about to argue further when you spot Sophia rushing towards you, her eyes wide with concern.

“Y/N!” She exclaims, pulling you into a hug. “I heard you were in some kind of trouble last night. Are you okay? And who are these guys?”

You extract yourself from Sophia’s embrace, acutely aware of Charles and the security team watching. “I’m fine, Sophia. Really. It was just a misunderstanding. As for these gentlemen ...” You gesture vaguely. “They’re, um ...”

“Private security,” Charles interjects smoothly. “In light of recent events, we felt it prudent to take extra precautions.”

Sophia’s eyes dart between you and Charles, clearly bursting with questions. “Private security? Y/N, what’s going on?”

You can feel a headache building behind your eyes. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain later, okay?”

She nods, though her expression says this conversation is far from over. “Okay, but you owe me details. Lots of details.”

As Sophia walks away, you turn to Charles with a sigh. “This is going to be a nightmare to explain to everyone.”

Charles’ expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But I need you safe. Everything else ... we’ll figure it out together.”

Looking into his eyes, seeing the mix of concern and affection there, you feel your resistance crumbling. Despite the complications, despite the danger, you know that what you and Charles have is worth fighting for.

“Together,” you agree softly.

As you head towards your office, flanked by Andrea and Joris, with Charles by your side, you can’t help but feel like you’re stepping into a new chapter of your life. One filled with more danger and complexity than you ever imagined, but also with a depth of love and protection you never thought possible.

The hospital corridors stretch out before you, familiar yet somehow changed. You take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them head-on — with Charles (and now apparently with an armed escort) by your side.

***

A year later, life has settled into a new normal. You’ve grown accustomed to the peculiarities of being the personal physician to Monaco’s most powerful man, including the late-night calls and the sometimes bizarre injuries.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’re in Charles’ private medical suite, nestled within his sprawling mansion, tending to yet another gunshot wound. The room is state-of-the-art, rivaling any hospital, but with a touch of luxury that screams Charles.

“Ow! Easy there, mon cœur,” Charles winces as you clean the wound on his upper arm.

You roll your eyes, but there’s affection in your voice as you reply, “Maybe if you’d stop zigging when you should be zagging, we wouldn’t be here so often.”

Charles attempts a charming smile, but it turns into a grimace as you start preparing the sutures. “You know I can’t help it. Danger follows me everywhere.”

“Mhmm,” you hum skeptically. “And I’m sure you do nothing to encourage it.”

As you begin stitching, Charles lets out an exaggerated groan. “Y/N, you’re torturing me. Is this revenge for forgetting our dinner reservation last week?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “If I wanted revenge, I’d let Pierre patch you up instead. Now hold still, unless you want a scar to ruin your perfect skin.”

Charles pouts, looking more like a petulant child than the feared boss of the Monegasque Mafia. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Only a little,” you admit with a smirk. “Someone has to keep that ego of yours in check.”

As you finish the last stitch, Charles flexes his arm experimentally. “You know, for someone who claims to care about me, you’re awfully indifferent about my pain.”

You start cleaning up, shaking your head in amusement. “Stop getting shot if you don’t want stitches.”

Charles’ hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. “But it hurts,” he whines playfully. “You should kiss me, treat me with care. I’m your patient, you should be good to me.”

You laugh, gently extracting yourself from his grip. “Nice try. But doctor’s orders are rest and recovery. No strenuous activity for at least a week.”

Charles’ eyes widen in horror. “A week? You can’t be serious. What am I supposed to do for a whole week?”

“I don’t know,” you tease, “maybe try not getting into gunfights? I hear it’s good for your health.”

Charles stands, testing his arm’s mobility. “You know that’s not what I meant. Come on, mon amour, surely there are some ... activities we could engage in that won’t strain my arm?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “No sex, Charles. You’ll pull your stitches.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Charles groans dramatically, flopping back onto the examination table. Then, a mischievous glint appears in his eye. “What about just a little ... oral attention? That won’t affect my arm at all.”

You can’t help but laugh at his persistence. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Charles grins, clearly thinking he’s won. “But you love me anyway.”

“God help me, I do,” you admit, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “But the answer is still no. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Charles sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. But you owe me when I’m healed.”

“I’ll make it worth the wait,” you promise with a wink. “Now, let’s get you to bed. And I mean for sleeping, mister.”

As you help Charles to his feet, he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You know, this whole stern doctor act is incredibly sexy. Maybe we could role-play once I’m better?”

You playfully swat his uninjured arm. “Behave or I’ll have Pierre stand guard outside our door to make sure you rest.”

Charles chuckles as you guide him out of the medical suite and towards the bedroom. “You wouldn’t dare. Pierre’s terrified of walking in on us after last time.”

The memory makes you blush. “Don’t remind me. I still can’t look him in the eye.”

As you reach the opulent bedroom, you help him settle into bed. He catches your hand as you turn to leave. “Stay with me?” He asks, his voice soft and vulnerable in a way few people ever get to hear.

Your resolve melts. “Just to sleep. I mean it, Charles.”

You kick off your shoes and climb into bed beside him, careful not to jostle his injured arm. Charles immediately pulls you close with his good arm, nuzzling into your neck.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Not just for this, but for everything. For patching me up, for putting up with my dangerous life, for ... for loving me despite it all.”

The sincerity in his voice touches you deeply. You turn in his embrace to face him, cupping his cheek gently. “Charles, I don’t love you despite your life. I love all of you, dangerous parts included. Though I could do with fewer midnight patch-up sessions.”

Charles chuckles softly. “I’ll try to schedule my injuries for more convenient times in the future.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “How about trying to avoid injuries altogether?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Charles teases, but then his expression turns serious. “I know my life isn’t easy, Y/N. I know I ask a lot of you. If it ever becomes too much ...”

You silence him with a gentle kiss. “Stop right there. I’m not going anywhere. I knew what I was getting into, and I choose this — I choose you — every day.”

Charles’ arms tighten around you, mindful of his injury. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Probably not,” you agree with a smirk. “But you’re stuck with me anyway.”

As you lay there in comfortable silence, your mind drifts to the events of the past year. The increased security measures, the close calls, the exhilarating highs and terrifying lows of being part of Charles’ world. It hasn’t been easy, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Charles asks softly, noticing your contemplative mood.

You trace lazy patterns on his chest as you answer. “Just ... everything. How much has changed in a year. How different my life is now.”

Charles tenses slightly. “Do you ever regret it? Getting involved with me, I mean.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him properly. “Never. It’s crazy and dangerous and sometimes I think I must be out of my mind, but I’ve never been happier.”

The relief on Charles’ face is palpable. “Even when I wake you up at ungodly hours to stitch me up?”

“Even then,” you assure him with a smile. “Though I reserve the right to be grumpy about it.”

Charles laughs, then winces as the movement jostles his arm. “Fair enough. I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t accidentally stitched anything embarrassing into me yet.”

You grin mischievously. “Don’t give me ideas. I’m sure ‘Drama Queen’ would look lovely across your bicep.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Charles gasps in mock horror.

“Try me,” you challenge playfully. “Keep whining about your injuries and find out.”

Charles pulls you closer, nuzzling into your hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll be a model patient from now on.”

You snort in disbelief. “I’ll believe that when I see it. Now get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

As Charles’ breathing evens out, you find yourself marveling at the turn your life has taken. From a chance encounter in a dark alley to this — sharing a bed with one of the most powerful men in Monaco, patching up bullet wounds in the middle of the night.

It’s not the life you ever imagined for yourself, but as you feel the steady beat of Charles’ heart beneath your hand, you know it’s exactly where you’re meant to be. Dangerous, complicated, and wonderfully yours.

You press a soft kiss to Charles’ chest, careful not to wake him. “I love you,” you whisper, knowing that no matter what challenges tomorrow brings, you’ll face them together.

As sleep begins to claim you, your last coherent thought is a mix of amusement and affection. You make a mental note to stock up on lollipops – it seems your most frequent patient has a penchant for post-treatment rewards, and you have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of his pouty face in the future.

But that’s okay. Because for every whine, every pout, every dramatic sigh, there’s also the fierce protectiveness, the tender moments, and the love that radiates from Charles in everything he does. It’s a package deal, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to Charles and let sleep take you, ready to face whatever adventures — or misadventures — tomorrow might bring.

[leclerc-s]

karma - part six

series masterlist // previous // next

charles_leclerc and natalia_leclerc posted new stories

pretty girl 💞

i shit you not, i woke up this morning and max was already here. why did i encourage charlie to sign with red bull? HE'S STILL HERE AND IT 4 IN THE AFTERNOON!!

they're being gross. i'm not cut out for the third-wheel life.

natalia leclerc SEB! TELL MAX HE CAN'T KEEP THIRD WHEELING ME AND CHARLES!

max verstappen NO SEB! TELL HER I CAN!

sebastian vettel this seems more like a kimi problem, does it not?

charles leclerc they already went to complain to him and he said, 'get out of my office.'

max verstappen then he said, 'go bother sebastian.'

natalia leclerc it's the most i've ever heard him speak.

sebastian vettel we had dinner the other day?

natalia leclerc i'm going for something here seb!

max verstappen soo seb, can i or can i not crash their dates?

charles leclerc this is not the sort of problem i thought we'd be having when i agreed to join red bull

max verstappen and what problems did you think we'd have charlie?

natalia leclerc ONLY I GET TO CALL HIM CHARLIE YOU KLOOTZAK!

natalia leclerc and he thought it would be inchident 2.0

sebastian vettel WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT WORD?

natalia leclerc max!

sebastian vettel MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN!!

max verstappen I WAS DRUNK!

natalia leclerc you taught me when we were children idiot!

liked by lilymhe, haileybieber, maxverstappen1 and others

natalia_leclerc the weekend in two pictures

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, redbullracing

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📍 natalia_leclerc major shoutout to robert for his first f1 PODIUM!! GO ROBERT!! AND GO LOGAN FOR THE POINTS!!

charles_leclerc i love you.

natalia_leclerc i love you.

landonorris blah blah, he won we get it! THAT CAR'S A FUCKING ROCKET SHIP!!

natalia_leclerc THAT'S WHAT HE DESERVES NO WINS!

alex albon i also got points??

natalia_leclerc but are you my grid son? no, didn't think so. logansargeant thanks mom!

olliebearman where's my congrats? i'm also your grid son?

natalia_leclerc sorry ollie, congrats on your race!

user1 it's the way natalia gave congrats to robert despite him being on a rival team for me.

user2 well, she actually likes robert so there's one reason why she congratulated him. user3 SHOTS FIRED!! SHOTS FIRED!!

pierregasly when my fucking tractor ends up in the points i expect a post like this too natalia.

natalia_leclerc that'll take a miracle to happen pierre. pierregasly this is why i hate you.

user4 this. this is my favorite trio.

user5 no one is doing it like them.

sukiwaterhouse congrats or whatever.

charles_leclerc thanks or whatever. sukiwaterhouse i hate you or whatever. charles_leclerc i hate you too or whatever. arthur_leclerc introduce me to robert pattinson or whatever. sukiwaterhouse this is why you're my favorite leclerc or whatever. charles_leclerc i hate you both or whatever.

user6 sometimes i can't tell if suki and charles actually hate each other or not. it's so confusing.

user7 i think they can't even tell sometimes.

natalia_leclerc posted new stories

in case anyone was curious as to how we are taking the recent news.

taglist: @janeholt3 @vroomvroommuppett @charlesgirl16 @someoneintheworld @iconicbookstore @evans-dejong @minmira95 @d3kstar @lollie0024 @magical-spit @rockyhayzkid @weekendlusting @ironspdy @namgification @moonyzsworld @emilyval1 @lorenakaspersen @spilled-coffee-cup @butterfly-lover @blushmimi @lovely-blackinnon @six-call @bingewatche @vroomvroom95 @lesliiieeeee @fletchingarcher @casperlikej @minmira95 @nichmeddar @chezmardybum @nikfigueiredo @buckybarnessweetheart @scuderiadevils @bellalilo @landonorizzz @sargeantdumbass @seesaw-it @leanneg97 @asparklysoul @gemnetjournal @mgmoore @itscrzy @alymeddar @evie-119 @raavadakedavra

not taggable: @Fall-bambi

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¡leclerc-s speaks! i just hope someone can tell where i'm going with replacing mattia with fred. if you can't well, hint: february 1st, 2024. i am still upset with the events that occured.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[angellayercake]

I have always been a little obsessed with this version of the stained glass window back drop but until today I hadn't bother to look into it in any more detail. After watching Suspiria and being reminded of this by some of the incredible set designs and use of light and colour (and after brain rotting with @positivelyghastly about Terzo and this film) I decided to look into it a bit further and found some interesting stuff.

It was created by Mattias Frisk (who it turns out also designed the original mummy dust) and you can read the detailed write up of the creation process here but other than the the part that really stuck out to me was this:

The overall design is based upon the five wounds of Christ accompanied by nails, and for the middle panels the lance of Longinus in the hands of our mighty lord Satan, bringer of light and destroyer of worlds. I decided to go with the five elements as an overall theme for the window, one element represented in each window, from left to right, water, earth, aether, fire and air (each nameless ghoul has been given an element so I thought that it was a good idea).

The aesthetic of era iii is so thematic and interesting and visually appealing (much like the man himself) I figured others may find this interesting as well!

[whore-ibly-hot]

what are ur ocs endgame goals??? like with or w/o reader, what are they hoping for. like r we talking white picket fence n a golden retriever or is it like "reader lets me,,, look at them,,,, today :3"

Hmm... good question! Well, let's examine our boys and girls!

The mean girls haven't even really put that much thought into it, but they'd like to drag you along to whatever sorority they join in College.

Fritz wants to marry you, of course and have a minimum of three babies. Johannes would of course just desire to serve his general, and his generals wife. He adores you, and would help to raise the kids as uncle Josie. Fritz goal is just to love his family and keep all of you safe. He wants his sons or daughters as far from the army and war as possible.

Patrick and Ahmed have different goals. Patrick wants to feel in charge of something for once, to own your body. He also craves the softness you provide, so he seeks to keep you as a girlfriend. His pretty little partner on his arm, his own caring, soft pocket pussy, all for him, (and Ahmed when he's feeling generous.). Ahmed has no specific goal, besides being owned by you (quite the opposite of Patrick). Want a house husband? Great! Want him to work? He won't like being away from you, but his father can get him a good job. Don't want a marriage? As long as your gaze and touch remains on him, he doesn't care. He'll be your dog if that's what you really want.

Joey wants as many kids as he can get in and out of you before you just can't have anymore. Preferably quite a few animals too. He wants your young ones to have the experience and knowledge of farm life that he had as a kid. He wants you to stay at home, but you don't have to cook and clean if you don't want! Just sit pretty, and let him hold you and all your babies at the end of a hard day. And maybe, just let him put on more in you.

Mattias's goals is to give you the world. He knows your living in the slums right now, and this isn't the life he wanted for him and his ma, and certainly not for you. He's gonna make money boxing and kicking teeth in until he can afford to get you whatever you want, and put you up in a safe place. Maybe then, the two of you will slip up more, and you might get pregnant. He doesn't crave fatherhood as much as some of the guys, but once he sees his dark-haired little hijo or hija, he's hooked for life. Now he's gotta ramp it up, he's got his baby and his love to look out for.

Puck isn't one for setting goals, but he does have one things he needs. See, he lives hundreds of years, and you don't. He likes your mortal naivety, and how amazed you are at magic, so it shouldn't be that hard to trick you into drinking or eating something to make you immortal. He just can't imagine spending the rest of eternity without his favorite playmate!

Carl wants your eyes on him, and him only. He'll knock yo up, then you'll have to marry him? Right? Shit, he doesn't care most nineteen year olds shouldn't be dads, you've got his baby, and your gonna be hid wife. Who else would you want to marry besides your best friend? He's got a big family, he's sure he can figure out how to parent and be a good husband. Just... don't go anywhere.

Joshua knows you're not leaving the cult anytime soon, and you'll have to marry eventually. No boys or girls would dare go against him, not when he's as intimidating and revered as he is. It won't be hard to convince Gabriel to marry you to him. He couldn't really care less if you had a baby with him. He's not one for kids. He's mostly just excited to have you to bed, now that you're married. He's got a lot of hormones built up from years of abstinence in the cult.

Morgan wants to spoil you. He has to make up for all the awful things your ex-husband put you through. Gifts, vacations, a penthouse, it's all yours. He just wants to show you what a real man can provide. Of course he wants to marry you, but he's more eager for after the wedding, when he can finally call you his wife. He wouldn't know what to do with a baby, but whatever you want, he'll get you.

[vinylfoxbooks]

August 19 - Invite | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 1138 Suggestive at the end

“Why are you here, Lily?” Remus sighs, watching one of his best friends walk through the door to the flat that she let herself into from where he’s sitting on the couch with a book. He can hear James in the kitchen finishing up with whatever they’re currently making. 

“I am here!” Lily announces, pushing further into the flat, “To officially invite you to the Halloween party that Mary and I are having.”

“And are those hotties that showed up in your story the other day going to be there?” James calls from the kitchen, “For both Remus and I?”

Lily laughs and turns an inquisitive face on Remus, “The ‘hotties’?”

Remus rolls his eyes, “The brothers or whatever that you posted something with. Pandora was talking to one and the other was waving at the camera.”

“Oh!” Lily nods, “That would be Regulus and Sirius, Pandora’s best friend and his brother. Yes, they’re both invited to my party but I don’t know if they’ll be coming for sure. Just out of interest, which one were you guys interested in?”

“Funnily enough, I really liked the one that was waving, Sirius I presume?” Lily nods and Remus continues, “James liked the grumpy looking one.”

“Of course they would.” Lily smiles, rolling her eyes, “When I know for sure whether they’re coming or not, I’ll let you two know.”

“You should tell us what they’re wearing as well!” James calls out once again, “So we can do something to match it!” Lily rolls her eyes but agrees nonetheless before pressing a kiss to Remus’ cheek and standing up, walking out of the flat. Remus rolls his eyes at the interaction while James starts cackling upon hearing the door slam closed. 

Days later, Lily texts them informing them that Regulus and Sirius are going to be attending the party and that they’re going as Nine Zenik and Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows, which James gets incredibly excited about and they immediately start brainstorming about what the two of them are going to wear. 

Which is how James and Remus end up walking into Lily and Mary’s house with James wearing a red button that’s half unbuttoned underneath an open burgundy waistcoat with little swirl patterns on them and a brown leather overcoat that matches the one that sits on Remus’ shoulders with the collar popped up, and a black top hat sitting haphazardly on their head. They’ve got a pair of black pants with some holsters on their thighs that hold fake guns vaguely resembling Jesper’s. Remus, on the other hand, is wearing some brown slacks that match his coat and a vest with several pockets visible on top of a brown button up. He’s got some extra things to make him look like a ‘tinkerer’ but otherwise his outfit is rather simple.

“I don’t know why you’re even wearing that many layers,” Remus says as he holds the door open for James, “You’re going to be down to your button up by the end of the night.”

“You know me so well, my love.” James smiles, slipping into the house with Remus following just behind them. The two find Lily easily, who is wearing a pink cocktail dress with a red bow sitting on the top of her head. Nearby they can see Mary wearing a green, tight-fitting tank top and a black miniskirt and Pandora wearing a white and light blue dress with white stockings, their hair in ponytails with blue ribbons. 

“The Power Puff Girls.” Remus nods upon stopping in front of her, his gaze just breaking from the other two to properly look at her. 

Lily smiles when she sees them, “Pandora’s idea. Wylan and Jesper, that’s a surefire way to make the Black brothers think that you’re together.”

James shrugs, “Who else would you put me as? Inej?”

“And if I were trying to go for Nina’s counterpart, could you really see me being Mattias?” Remus follows up, “We figured that these were the best, and James wanted to wear the top hat.” Lily concedes to them before pointing to where Sirius and Regulus are leaning against a wall, talking to each other. 

Regulus is dressed as Kaz, a black button up underneath a black and silver waistcoat with silver chains going from the lower center to either of his sides and disappearing under a thick black overcoat along with some leather gloves. Sirius, on the other hand, is wearing a long red dress with gold detailings and slits down either side and a black and gold waist cincher. Their longer hair is pulled back into a bun. 

“Damn.” James whistles, looking Regulus up and down. Remus can’t help but nod at that. Lily laughs at them before stalking away to her partners. 

James and Remus go to enjoy themselves at the party for a while, deciding that they need some alcohol in their systems before they start even trying to flirt with the attractive brothers. At some point, one of James’ favourite songs gets played over the speakers and James pulls Remus onto the dance floor by his hands and pulls him to their body. Remus, as he tends to do, humors them and starts singing and dancing along with them. 

At one point, after the song has long switched to other ones, James goes to twirl Remus but watches as he gets pulled away by Sirius while Regulus slips in and grabs James’ hands. While in shock, James is all the more willing to take it into stride, “Why hello there.”

Regulus hums, slow enough that James almost doesn’t hear it over the sound of the party around them, “Hello.” He drags his eyes over James’ body, “Jesper Fahey?”

“Kaz Brekker.” James smiles in response, dragging their own eyes over Regulus, “Just what kind of heist are you planning today? Maybe stealing my heart?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, “I take it, from your flirting with me, that you and your Wylan over there that my brother is dancing with aren’t together?”

“No,” James smiles, “Just best friends with the personalities of these characters. My name is James, my friend over there that your brother seems about ready to jump is Remus.”

“And why do I need to do that?” James shrugs, “I figure that your brother is the type of person to shag first, ask questions later and Remus doesn’t like answering those after a good fuck. Figuring that you knowing his name was better than nothing.” 

“Mm,” Regulus hums, jerking his chin away, “That may be the case, but I think I’ve asked enough questions. Want to find somewhere more private?” James nods and starts pulling Regulus towards the hallway that takes James to the spare room that they usually end up staying in when they stay with Lily and Mary.

I know that technically Wylan and Jesper are together and neither of them are with Kaz or Nina but I thought those characters fit each of them the best, y’know

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 8/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 3.6k

**********************************************

Yourusername tagged Charles Leclerc in their story

It was the first race of the season and the official ‘hard launch’ of yours and Charles’ relationship, from this point you were allowed to start posting clear images of each other - but you had been begging the team to have a proper meeting about your reveal but Mattia kept pushing it, delaying and delaying until it was too ‘inconvenient’ because of the race weekend and the focus would now be on the upcoming race instead of you. Instead, you were told to just keep your head down and focus on your performance on and off the track as both Charles’ girlfriend and as Thirty.

Your jaw felt tight as you pulled your Ferrari polo over your head, Charles humming softly behind you as he gathered his things for the day - in seemingly much higher spirits than you. The car had performed well during testing and so his hopes were high for a good result in the first race. “Are you nearly ready to go, y/n?”

“Yeah, of course. Just need to grab my bag… I dropped most of my stuff off at the motorhome yesterday.” You smiled, taking his hand as he offered it to you. “You ready for quali?”

“I’m actually buzzed.” He said, grinning and pulling you closer. “Starting the season off with a new car and with the best girl at my side?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Charles, I’ve been at your side for years.”

He playfully narrowed his gaze, lifting his hand to cup your jaw - leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You know what I mean, don’t be a tease. I’m sorry that they keep dismissing your meeting, I know it must be getting frustrating.”

“You have no idea.” You sighed softly. “And I want to talk to them about us as well… I don’t know if they’ll want to handle this differently now there’s real feelings involved.”

“Well, either way I’m here for you. I know I say this a lot but I like you and regardless of what they say I can see a future for us.”

“Those are some big words, Charles… you really think about the future like that?” He could tell your voice was timid, that you were unsure.

The Monaco native simply nodded. “Not to scare you off or anything. I know it’s quick to say it but I’ve always felt strongly for you and this whole situation has just cemented it for me.”

“It doesn’t. I’ve just… I’ve just been alone for so long it feels strange to have someone who wants to stay in my life long term…”

The fact your admission didn’t shock Charles broke his heart- having the career you did, didn’t allow people to get close and those who were lucky enough to be in your life, like your father, were nowhere. He wanted to be that person for you, the person you could always turn to even if the rest of the world seemed to turn its back.

“Well, you’re stuck me with me for as long as you want me around.” He spoke softly, almost as if he was scared that his voice could break you if he raised it.

You gave him a gentle smile before the two of you head out to the paddock for qualifying day - they wanted to use you and Charles coming together as a distraction from the Thirty rumours, so you complied. You knew biting back would just result in them pushing your meeting further and further but you just couldn’t afford to get sued either. You were under their thumb, so for now you had to let them play their cards before you showed yours.

Although you knew yours and Charles' relationship was F1’s worst kept secret, you were surprised just how many people seemed to care when you stepped into the paddock hand-in-hand. Your teammate seemed used to it, chatting idly away to you as you made your way to the Ferrari motorhome but you couldn’t help but sense every single pair of eyes that fell on you.

“Look at the lovebirds, so cute!” You turned at the sound of Carlos’ voice - his Redbull teammate not too far behind. “I approve of this pairing.”

“That fast, huh?” You teased.

“I’m just surprised it took you so long.” Max chimed in. “We’ve all known each other for nearly 2 decades at this point… so if anything, this is slow.”

“Carlos didn’t know us.” You corrected. “It was really nice to spend time with everyone in Bali though, I felt really welcomed.”

The two Redbull drivers both gave you kind smiles, your childhood friend went to speak again but they were ushered away by their coaches - wanting to get them ready for free practice. You would have to disappear into your mask for the next few hours, put on your persona - visor down, race suit on. Charles gave you one more kiss on the cheek before ushering you into the motorhome, making it seem as if you were simply a couple spending some time apart. But you were subtly guided into your driver's room to get ready yourself.

You just wanted this weekend over with.

*********************

Yourusername added to their story

You and Charles sandwiched Max on the grid when the race finally rolled around, the Champion’s teammate beside you on the second row. You knew Redbull were going to be tough to beat, their car seemed significantly better than last year and with Mercedes seemingly struggling the fight was going to be between you and them. Your third championship was within reach and you were going to fight tooth and nail to get it - not letting your relationship with Charles sway that. Sure, you wanted him to win his first but at the end of the day, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that feeling again.

It was dark as you sat in the cockpit of your car, eyes flickering across the track in front of you as the team worked on your car. Your race engineer repeated race strategy over the comms to you and you simply nodded along - tapping your fingers on your steering wheel.

Charles walked past your car and patted the halo lightly, sending you a smile before heading to his own car - race helmet hanging from his fingers. His fireproofs clung to his figure and you couldn’t help but study his figure; his broad shoulders into his little waist - it was crazy the way some of these men were built and the Monegasque was no exception to that. There were many times during your trip that you wanted to throw caution to the wind and just have your way with him. But you needed to behave, as much as you wanted to enjoy these new feelings with him, getting another Championship was at the front of your mind.

As the cars circled the track in the formation lap, your mind cleared of everything - it was the first race of the season and you were determined to make it the best one yet. If you were going to take your helmet off some day soon, you had to make sure everyone remembered why you had the seat in the first place. You deserved to be here and you had to prove that to yourself and everyone else.

You pulled up to your grid spot, angling your car in just a way to get the best start. And with one more deep breath, the lights began to count down.

“It’s lights out and away we go.”

The first race of the season and you’d got a 1-2, the absolute perfect start - it couldn’t have gone any better, especially with both Redbull cars not finishing the race. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Charles wrapped you up in a hug - his strong arms squeezing you tight. “We did it!”

You held in your laughter knowing there were cameras nearby that could pick up audio and gave him a squeeze back. A warm touch was placed on your shoulder and you turned to see the kind eyes of none other than Lewis, the Redbull DNF meant he was joining you both on the podium - he’d been one of your biggest rivals the last few years but he always had nothing but kind words to say about you, even in during your toughest battles.

“Amazing race today, Thirty. Just saw a clip of your overtake on Checo before he went out, so smooth.” He smiled, his gaze flickering across your helmet.

It took everything in you not to thank him, so you simply gave his hand a firm shake. He gave you an understanding smile and went back over to his team. You could see the media hoping you’d come over for a post-race interview but before you could even think about it you were ushered straight inside to wait for the podium. Their fear you would reveal the secret was becoming larger each day, especially with the speculation - so any time they could get you away from the press they would.

“You didn’t say anything out there did you?” Your handler spoke up, you shook your head. “You didn’t do anything that would give you away?”

They were the standard questions he asked after every race, but more than ever they irked you - you’d been doing this for years, they just never trusted you. You bit your tongue and nodded again, wanting nothing more than to take your helmet off and run out on the podium.

“Good. Now, you know the next bit - go out, get your trophy, champagne and then back to your room.”

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, the worst part of it all was not being able to celebrate with your team after the race. Share your achievement with the people who had helped you get there. It broke your heart. Sure, they had Charles’ win to celebrate this time but when it had just been you on the podium you watched them all cheer without you. This time however, you were caught a little by surprise when on the podium, Charles’ hand came up to rest on the side of your helmet - it was just for a moment but the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. And with no nearby mics to pick up any audio he leant in and whispered.

“Champagne in your room after this.”

You were so glad to be wearing your helmet because your cheeks flushed as dark as your race suit. God, I wish I could kiss you right now. You were brought back into the moment as your visor was coated in champagne by Lewis, the Brit smiling big as he tipped the bottle over your helmet. You returned the favour by spraying him directly in the chest - savouring the moment of celebration before you were locked away.

It was then you decided to put your toe across the line, as the three of you stepped off the podium and out away from the cameras - you turned to Lewis, approaching him before your handler could haul you away. “Thank you. For everything… I-”

Before you could get another word out, your handler grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away - not before you managed to get a look at Lewis’ reaction. His face had split into a big smile. “Thank you as well!”

You were practically shoved into your room by your handler, who slammed the door behind you. “What the fuck was that? You know the terms of your contract, y/n. Are you trying to get sued?!”

“All I said was thank you.” You said calmly, finally pulling your helmet off. “The media knows I’m a woman so what’s the harm in saying thank you to Lewis? I could still be anyone.”

His jaw clenched. “You better hope he says nothing or else this will have big consequences.”

He left the room in a huff when you didn’t respond, simply slumping on the sofa - letting your head roll back onto the back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you finally took a moment to yourself to be happy with your result. P2 in the first race of the season. If this is how the rest of it was going to be then maybe your third championship really was possible.

“Knock knock.” Charles pushed open the door just enough to come into the room with a bottle of champagne, locking it behind him. “As promised… felt wrong celebrating without you.”

Your teammate sat beside you, offering you the bottle of which you took a large sip. “That was, uh, cool what you did… with Lewis.”

“Could’ve fucked my entire career but-” You shrugged. “Honestly, fuck it. I’ve raced him my entire career… I would’ve said more if-”

Charles chuckled and draped an arm across your shoulders, letting your head rest against him. “You said plenty. You have no idea how much that meant to Lewis, he was absolutely buzzing. Giggling like a little school girl.”

That made you smile. “Oh, good… I really… I don’t regret doing it, I know Lewis understands what I’m going through - I trust him to keep his cool around the press even if I don’t have to ask.”

“Cheers to that.”

You tilted your head to look at him, his green eyes already directed at you. His hand came up once again but this time could rest on your skin - his thumb brushing across your cheek before he pressed a chaste but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you savoured the feeling, chasing his lips as he pulled back - just enough where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“...be mine?”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Am I not already?”

He scoffed playfully. “You’re such a tease, mon amour… please, be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Mhmm, pretty boy. Love when you beg” You giggled softly, pressing your lips to his. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Charles.”

You weren't sure what response you expected but he simply rested his forehead against yours, his hand still resting on your jaw - a small, soft smile on his face. “I really like you, y/n. And no matter what happens with your career, I’ve got your back. You’ve been through hell and back for this team and I won’t let them tarnish your reputation.”

“Thank you… and just for the record, I really like you too.”

A knock on the door summoning Charles to the media pen brought you both back to reality, and with one more kiss he left the room - allowing you to turn on the TV just in time to catch none other than Lewis in front of the camera.

“Congrats on your first podium of the season, Lewis, how are you feeling?”

He nodded eagerly. “Really good, I’m really happy - I know the Redbulls not finishing definitely played its part and we have some work to do with the car but yeah I’m very happy with the result.”

“You had some nice words for Thirty after the race, did they give you anything?”

You chewed nervously at the skin around your fingers but just as you predicted Lewis simply shook his head. “Nothing. They’re as elusive as ever.”

“Thank god.” You mumbled, finally deciding to strip out of your race suit and back into your polo shirt - putting your admin disguise back on before your handler finally decided to send someone to let you out of your room.

When you entered the garage, you started helping pack away - post-race was always the most frustrating for you. To blend in they insisted you do the extra work, but you were exhausted - you’d just done nearly 60 laps of a grand prix and then they expected you to do grunt work too? It was almost as if Charles could hear your internal monologue because he came up behind you, leaning across your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“My girl… let’s get you out of here, hmm?” His voice was low. “You’ve worked hard enough.”

You let out a sigh of relief, turning to face him. “You read my mind, my hero.”

He lent in and kissed you, his hand finding its home on your jaw - feeling bolder about his affections now you were official outside of the contract. You had almost forgotten that this had all started off as fake but was now very real. He wasn’t kissing you because he had to, he was kissing you because he wanted to. And you were still trying to wrap your head around it all - but while you did, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you locked eyes with your PR manager who gave you a thumbs up.

“I almost don’t want to tell them it’s real.” You scoffed lightly, taking his hand to tug him out of the garage. “Let them just think we’re really good actors.”

The Monaco native chuckled softly from beside you, squeezing your hand. You were hoping to escape from the paddock, so you kept your head down - your Ferrari cap blocking your face but alas, you were walking next to Charles bloody Leclerc so it was never going to be easy. He was very quickly distracted by some fans at the barriers, stopping to sign and take photos. You waited patiently, playing the role of a good girlfriend, but let your eyes scan the rest of the paddock.

You turned your head when you felt eyes on you - Lewis’ intense gaze had fixated on you from across the way as Bono spoke to him. The cogs turning in his brain were almost visible - like he was putting the pieces together. You gave him a shy wave and he gave you a two finger salute before nodding towards a small passage between two of the Mercedes motorhomes.

“U-Uhm, I’ll be back in a second, Charles.” Your boyfriend acknowledged you with a simple smile, allowing you to slip away towards the former Champion.

It felt bizarre, sneaking into a darkened alleyway with Lewis Hamilton but you were intrigued by what he had to say. There was barely a foot between you as you stood with your back to the wall, his eyes studying you through long lashes. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“...it’s you isn’t it.” His voice was quiet, eyes boring into yours. “You’re Thirty.”

You pressed your lips into a line and he raised a challenging brow, daring you to deny it. “How did you figure it out?”

His smile alone was worth it. “I could never forget your voice… I can’t believe it’s really you.”

There was a different look in his eyes, as if he was really seeing you for the very first time - his rival, his fellow driver. “I… I have so much I want to say to you, y/n. Maybe we can have a proper talk sometime? I’ll give you my number…”

You were collecting Champion’s phone numbers like pokemon cards at this point - after giving you his number and making him text you so he had yours he placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, not too dissimilar from the one he’d given you after the race. “It was nice to meet you for real, y/n. Don’t be a stranger.”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath before you returned to Charles who had finally drawn away from the fans to offer you his hand - frowning a little when he saw the clearly exasperated look on your face. “Everything okay?”

You dragged him back to the car, letting out a deep breath - the driver still staring at you with concern. “Lewis knows.”

“...fucking hell. I saw him in the media pen, he didn’t say anything. Reckon you can still trust him?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t think I have a choice.” You chuckled nervously. “So that's you, Sebastian, Max and Lewis… Do you think anyone else is suspicious of me?”

“If they are, they’ve not said anything to me.”

The car park was slowly beginning to empty as the rest of the grid made their way to their cars and bikes. You studied each of them, Fernando, Esteban… Yuki… Valtteri… any one of them could suspect you but you’d never know. You let your eyes return to Charles who still had a worried look on his face, so you lent across and pressed a deep kiss to his lips - this time he was the one chasing you as you pulled back; his chest rising and falling and the green of his eyes almost hidden in its entirely by the depth of his pupils.

“How about…” You said, feeling breathless yourself. “...we go back to our hotel and celebrate our podium.”

His eyes widened a little. “You mean-”

“Oh, I mean…”

You lent in, your hand brushing up his thigh as you whispered absolute filth into his ear - you could practically feel his heart racing as you cupped the back of his neck to kiss him once again. Charles had to fight every urge to pull you into his lap and take you right here in the car park but you deserved more for your first time together. He moved back again and started the engine. you gave him a playful smile.

“Take me home, Winner.”

****************

Gif credit @yesloulou

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all roads | mattias samuelsson

warnings: use of Y/N, miserable situationship, terrible cycles being repeated, more angst and thought daughter than smut and thot daughter (my b), spit, unprotected p in v, gaslighting, slight choking, fingering, oral fem!receiving, hickeys, mentions of drunk mattias, heavy on the EVIL mattias on this one… your honor i need him pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader summary: fem!reader finds herself going through the motions of a confusing situationship with mattias, eventually attempting to break free of the cycle. wc: 4861

title and content based off this song

Can I come over? the text reads.

You stare at the message, thinking about the possibilities for a moment. You toy with it for a second like a proud cat who finally caught her nemesis of a mouse, letting it go just to step on its tail and capture it again. The possibility that you’re playing with is, of course, that you’ll tell Mattias ‘No.’

As much as saying no would bring you power, it’ll never work. Mattias will come over anyway. He’s probably already on the way, knowing that you’ll say yes because you always say yes to him. You always say yes and you always regret it the morning after.

You say yes. Mattias comes over. He pretends to watch the show that you’d thrown on while eating dinner, then he makes his move and you fuck. He comes, you come, he leaves. You have to change your sheets at 2am because they’re covered in sweat, cum, and spit. You forgot to lay down a towel, which is what you promised yourself you would do last time. It’s 3am by the time you go to bed and Mattias, once again, forgot to text you that he got home safe.

The cycle repeats.

Your friends have been here since the beginning of this relationship– relationship, as if you can even call it that…– and they’re getting tired of it. You can’t count the times they’ve said, “Y/N, he’s not good for you” or “Y/N, you deserve better than him.” From them, the sentiment comes so often that the truth of it has worn off. You’ve taken to responding with a groaned “I know” or an unsubstantiated “he’s been better lately!” or even a vague lie about how Mattias told you that he wants this to be more.

You’ve been able to believe your own lies, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, until you couldn’t anymore. Just last week, after Mattias came to visit you over your fall break from grad school and you hooked up in the backseat of his car after dinner with your parents, your mom spoke up. 

“It really seems like you like him, Y/N,” she said while drying the last of the dishes. 

You were sat at the kitchen counter, fiddling with the tab of the seltzer you’ve been nursing since dessert. “Yeah, I like him, Mom.”

“Have you been seeing him long?”

“We met last year. We started hanging out in the spring.”

Your mother nodded slowly. 

“What?” You asked. 

“One of your friends talked to me at the football game a few weeks ago.”

Oh, God. “Which friend? What did she say?”

Your mother waved you off. “It doesn’t matter. She mentioned something about how you’ve changed since meeting the boy you’re dating, and now that I’ve met him, I have to say that I agree.”

It was a gut punch. You scoffed. “I can’t believe you’ve been talking about me behind my back.”

“Honey, we were barely talking about it. She just said she was worried that you’re caught up in something that won’t benefit you.”

“Well, Mom, you’ve only met him once,” you replied coldly. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know you,” your mother had said to your response. “I don’t like seeing you jump on your phone whenever you get a text.”

Mattias only sends you Snapchat messages, but that’s neither here nor there. Your mother wouldn’t understand, even if you tried to justify it.

“You just don’t seem the same, sweetheart,” she continued. “You seem quieter. I wasn’t sure what it was, but now that I know you started seeing him in the spring…” She shrugs. “It’s starting to make sense.”

You stormed out in a huff after that, venting in long texts to Mattias over Snapchat and barely receiving any sympathy. In fact, he was slightly more defensive than you: ‘I don’t think you’ve changed,’ ‘Sometimes I feel like your friends hate me just to hate me and it’s weird that they’re getting your mom involved,’ and the most telling, ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come to dinner.’ At the time, the messages seemed normal.

When you go back to your town, the place where you’ve spent the past few years with your friends and your independence and with Mattias, he invites you over to his house. You go, walking the distance between your place and his because you thought the fresh air would help clear your hear. Today, you’re a bit more tentative about letting anything happen.

“Don’t let their words get to you, babe,” Mattias murmurs, kissing the skin behind the shell of your ear. “You know what we have.”

“I know, but it’s different coming from my mom,” you complain, shrugging him off.

Mattias only doubles down on his kissing and his touching. “Let me make it up to you. Gonna give you a great night so that you forget all about that bad one.”

And he does. Despite all of his “noncommittal behavior”– your best friend’s exact words, when it comes to the things Mattias does– he is very committed to making you moan out his name. He fucks you bare, well into the night. You actually knock the sheets off the bed with all of your wiggling and repositioning, going from missionary to cowgirl within mere minutes because Mattias doesn’t like missionary, then to doggy to broken eagle to a weird position where Mattias has you on your side and your ankle rests on his shoulder. You’re perpendicular from him, staring towards the mirror in the corner of his room, and you come with Mattias’s hand around your neck. He kisses you after, just once.

Then– and get a load of this– you ask him to take you home and he says no. He says he has an early morning, with practice and all. He has to be at the rink practically before the sun rises and he doesn’t want to wake you when he gets up. It’s considerate enough, but when you sarcastically say “I guess I’ll just walk home in the dark, then,” Mattias replies, “Text me when you get home so I know you got back safe.”

For the first time since this started, you think to yourself: What if you just walked me home? Then you’d be absolutely sure that I got home safe…

In the weeks since, your mother’s words have struck you. They’ve given you pause. They’ve thrown you for a loop– or one of the many other synonyms that you could use for your new perspective. If the people around you are saying Mattias has changed you, maybe they’re right. Your mother met him once and thought that she should say something. That has to mean something.

You’ve noticed the pattern: that Mattias rarely ever texts you first, and when he does, he wants to see you. What started as sweet, cute meet ups last spring for coffee or a movie or dinner have devolved into hurried hookups in your bed, rarely ever Mattias’s. He never sleeps over and he always makes an excuse when you try to sleep at his place. When he turns you down, it’s because he has film to watch, or practice to attend, or plans with his friends. When you turn him down in order to study or do homework, he persuades you that he can relieve your stress with school or that you’d have more fun in his company.

You’ve been a negligent friend and an even worse person because of Mattias. Yet– you just keep going back.

Maybe it’s because of the potential he has. You know he can be affectionate and kind and perfect. You feel it in the reverent touches to your skin when he undresses you. You see it in his eyes when he stares up at you, perched on his lap and grinding against him. You hear it when he calls you ‘babe’ and tosses a wink at you when he’s too far away to swat at your ass. He lets you hang out with his friends– only with his friends, he won’t hang out with yours– and claims you by holding you on his thigh and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He shares drinks with you, he always comes when you call, and he always is by your side when you’re stressed or upset. Even when you say you want to be alone, Mattias knows that you don’t really. He knows that you want someone there, seeing through all your feeble lies, and he is.

Your friends say that it’s making you codependent on him. You think that he’s really just trying to help you.

Tomato, tomato.

So, you stop talking about him. You start seeing him in secret. Everyone knows– of course they do– but you pretend like there’s nothing happening anymore. You’re tired of people saying that he’s bad for you, especially when Mattias makes you feel so good.

You’re able to keep up the facade for a few months. Your roommate ignores the beeping of the alarm and the creak of the door from your late night departures and early, early morning arrivals. Your friends stop asking about Mattias because you stop telling them about what you did with him last weekend– you went down to Nashville in Tennessee for his team’s game on Friday night, then spent Saturday night on Broadway with Ti, a name that he hates but you insist on using. He wishes you would call him Sammy, like his ‘bros’ do, but you can’t stand the idea of being on the same level as them. You’re not his friend or his teammate. You’re seeing him, consistently, and isn’t that enough to consider your ‘thing’ a relationship? Not to Mattias.

He has changed you. He’s given you every reason to move on– a lack of a label, which you’ve asked for. A lack of consistency, which you’ve begged for. You’re tired of him requiring you to say hello to him whenever you see him around, but he’ll never do the same if he sees you. You can’t count the times that he’s offhandedly mentioned “Oh, yeah, I saw you in the park last week” or “Did you go to that coffee shop on Fifth the other day? I think I saw you when I drove by” or “Got you a ticket for the game. You’re still coming right?” (No, you weren’t planning on it, but his pouty lip in one of the rare pictures he sends through Snap goes right to your heart.)

It’s exhausting.

And yet, he’s at the end of every road that you try to forge for yourself. You tell him no– he comes over. You ask for space– he convinces you that you don’t need it. You get stressed about grad school and try to pawn him off– he tells you that he’ll quiz you, then reward you for every answer you get right.

You’re tired. Your grades are being affected. You’ve even called out of work for him, multiple times, something your manager isn’t happy about. Yet– you keep going back. You keep finding him at the end of the path.

There he is: Mattias Samuelsson, in all of his 6-foot-4-inch, 235-pound, goofy smile glory. One look into his smug eyes, insisting that he knows you even without saying it aloud, and you’re done for. You fall right back into bed. 

It has to stop, you decide. You’re set on ignoring Mattias for as long as it takes for him to get the hint. You’re upset about the decision, yes– but you’re tired of looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering if you even recognize the girl staring back at you. You try to convince yourself and say that you never left, you never changed, but you know that deep down, things are different. Maybe you and Mattias decided to be together in another life. In a third, perhaps you never met. You wonder which outcome would make you happiest and you aren’t able to make a real decision, but you do know that the current situation is making you miserable. You can’t keep doing this. 

Two weeks pass where you don’t text first. It’s the easiest way to start– letting Mattias come to you. He texts you a couple of times, but you tell him that you have plans with your friends that are unavoidable. 

Surprisingly, you’re able to make those plans happen. Now that you’re not hanging out with Mattias all the time anymore, they’re happy to see you and catch up. You don’t have much to say since the last few months of your life have revolved around a boy that they don’t like, but at least you’re there. At least you’re seeing them.

It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve gotten the breath of fresh air that you were looking for.

Everything is fine– improving, even. One of your friends says that she saw Mattias on Tinder the day prior and you can’t find it in yourself to care. You just shrug and say that you wish him the best. It gets you a few perturbed looks, but you couldn’t care less. You’re no longer under his thumb.

The itch is still there. If he called, you’d come.

And when he does, you do.

It’s more of a text message than a phone call. It’s through Snapchat, like always, but you’re used to that. Mattias’s tone, however, is different. 

You’ve gotten to know him like the back of your hand over the past year. He’s had you bare and laid out beneath him, ugly crying over school, and unable to stop laughing because of something he said that wasn’t funny at 4am. Come to think of it– the thing that wasn’t funny was that he had a tee time at 8am and he had still chosen to stay up with you.

Chosen to stay up with you. You’re not sure that’s true anymore. Maybe he had just waited it out, until you gave in and caved to his advances, and it happened to be in the early hours of the morning.

It doesn’t matter.

Can I come over?, his text says. 

You’re right back where you started.

His little Bitmoji pops into the chat as you stare at the message, debating your answer. He starts to type and you feel caught out, wanting to swipe away and ignore the message. You know you can’t.

I just wanna talk :/

Mattias rarely uses emojis, at least not the ones that look like actual facial expressions (he loves the poop-face emoji and the 100 and the t-rex). He uses manually typed emojis even less, only replying to you once with a “:)” after you sent a “:(” when he stole your water bottle and refused to return it unless you came over to get it yourself.

Because of that, you believe him. You call him– through Snapchat, by the way. It’s never any less humiliating.

“So?” Mattias asks, instead of a hello.

“Are you already on your way?” You ask.

His low laugh rumbles through the phone. “Babe, I’m already outside.”

“Of course you are. I’ll come get you in a minute.” You hang up, untucking yourself from underneath your comfy bedsheets and sliding on your slippers. You’re wearing your most homely pajamas, but the weather is starting to get cold, so you wrap yourself up in your bathrobe and go to greet him. 

Mattias is at the door when you open it. You’re not sure how he got into the apartment complex, but he must have snuck in behind someone else. He probably found a guest spot and parked there, or he stole an open spot in the lot that belongs to someone else… hopefully, he’ll leave before he gets towed. Your talk shouldn’t last too long– all you have to say is that this is over. 

“Hey, gorgeous. I was wondering when I’d see you next.” Mattias steps across the threshold and dips his head to try and give you a kiss. ‘Try’ is the key word, considering you turn your head to the side and he catches your cheekbone. 

“What’s up, Mattias?” You ask.

He’s taken slightly aback by your response. You know that from the way his hand drops from your waist and finds his pockets. “Are we jumping right into this?” He sounds a bit forlorn as he questions you. 

You sigh a bit, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have that much to say, Ti.”

He goes to correct you, like he always does when you call him ‘Ti,’ but he seems to change his mind. He looks you up and down, lifting a hand up to scrub over the scruffy shadow lining his face. “Is this over?” He asks.

Tentatively, you nod. “I think so,” you confirm quietly.

Mattias looks down at you, always towering above you in a once-sexy way, but now it’s just upsetting. You liked him. He didn’t treat you right. Yet– you still want him.

“So this is it?”

He sounds just as dejected as you. Although– he seems like he was quicker to acceptance. Probably because he’s got another girl lined up already, having met her on his secret Tinder that you shouldn’t know about. Who knows how long he’s had it– maybe he’s been on there since even before you stopped talking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah, Mattias. This is it.”

He stares at you for a minute. With hesitation written all throughout his movements, he brings a hand up and caresses your shoulder. 

“Shit,” Mattias mumbles. He sounds genuinely regretful and it’s working. You want to wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his chest and hold him while he hugs you, but you fight to stay still. “I wish I had known…” he trails off, then bows his head. His fingers find the neckline of your robe, toying with the plush fabric. “If I had known that last time was the last time, I would’ve made it better for you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you reply, your voice somewhere between a tease, a whisper, and a scoff. 

Mattias lets a little smile grace his face. “Just gonna miss you, that’s all.”

“Are you?”

He’s taken aback again by how brash you are, how disbelieving of his sweet words. It’s a stark contrast from who you were for the past year– the girl who was willing to go back to Mattias with just a slight nudge.

His lips part in surprise, pink and full and distracting. You won’t let his Cupid’s Bow shatter the guard that you worked so hard to put up. He’s so pretty. If things were different, you’d be happy staying with him forever. At one time, you thought that maybe you would.

“Of course I’m going to miss you,” Mattias says. “We were together for a year, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.” You turn your head to the side, biting the inside of your cheek. You shrug his heavy hand off your body. “You know we weren’t ‘together.’ You didn’t want to be.”

“It– didn’t make sense to me,” Mattias says, trying to salvage the situation. “You know that. With my job, I just don’t have time for a relationship.”

“So you decided to string me along for a year?” You ask. “You know I wanted something more.”

“I thought we agreed…” Mattias cuts himself off again. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry that you weren’t happy. I wish I could make it up to you, but… if this is it…”

“It is.”

Mattias looks at you for a little while longer. It’s absurd, how you’re still standing in the foyer of your apartment. Your roommate could be listening in. It’s not even that late. Part of you hopes that she is listening– so she can hear that you’re standing your ground and that it’s truly over. The rest of you hopes that she’s asleep and missing the whole thing. You feel too… vulnerable. This is a private conversation between you and Mattias. It’s the final bit that you can have, just between you and him.

“Can I kiss you?” Mattias asks.

It’s jarring and you go to say no, but he adds something before you can.

“Just– to say goodbye. I want to remember the last time I kissed you.”

He knows you just as well as you know him. He knows exactly how to break your resolve, exactly how to strike and when to get what he wants.

You fold. Unable to find your voice, you can only nod.

Relief spreads over Mattias’s face. His smile bares his top teeth slightly, just before he moves in. 

He touches you all over. One of his hands rises through your hair, fisting the strands and tugging slightly. He loosens the knot that you had tied your hair into while doing homework earlier, making the shorter face-framing strands escape and brush along your skin. His other hand encompasses the curve of your waist, then slides to the small of your back. He pulls you close, pressing you into his front and leaving no space between your bodies. You can feel his strong, warm figure fully encompassing your own.

You suddenly want to cry. This is the last time. You’re mourning Mattias already, knowing that you have to treasure the time you have left with him, to treasure this last kiss. 

You kiss him back, touching his scruff and fingering at the hair at the nape of his neck. You hear yourself whimper quietly against his lips, which makes Mattias pull you closer.

“Please,” he murmurs, sealing the plea with a lick into your mouth. “Fuck, baby, please.”

“Please what?” You say, lips still brushing his. That’s how close you are.

His hand brushes the globes of your ass, not quite cupping the covered skin, but definitely feeling you out. “One more time,” Mattias says. His tongue fills your mouth again, working against yours and distracting you. “Let me touch you one more time. It’ll be so good, please? I can’t let last time be our last time, not like that.”

You should say no and you know it. Then, his lips leave yours and he sucks a mark just past the curve of your jaw, at the sensitive spot below your earlobe. Heat pumps through your body and Mattias feels so strong and solid beneath your palms.

He’s working you, playing you like a fiddle. It’s so easy to fall back into your old routine, to let him have what he wants… what you want.

“One last time,” you concede, your voice still slightly unsure, and the relaxed sigh that eases Mattias’s posture is justification enough for your inability to hold strong.

He all but beelines for your room, intertwining his fingers with yours so that he can tug you along impatiently. 

His touches are just as sensual as always, but laced with an urgency that has your clothes falling away from your body in just a few moments.

He undresses himself much more slowly, teasing you until you’re complaining about how long it’s taking and how it wouldn’t kill him to just get on with it. Mattias reminds you that it’s the last time he gets to see you like this, and you with him, so he wants to take his time with it. That shuts you up.

You take in the soft skin of his chest and abdomen. He’s always been toned and muscular and broad, but the curves of his love handles and the fold of his tummy when he sits back juxtaposes the athletic body that you’ve come to adore. He’s long and broad and thick in the best places, although his body moves with the delicacy and grace of a much daintier person. That’s Mattias– a Russian nesting doll of surprises. You wish you could keep him.

“Open up for me, babe,” Mattias tells you gently, working his hand between your knees and nudging them apart. He kneels between your legs when they’re spread far enough, letting his hand slide along your skin and create ripples of goosebumps in its wake. He nears your core, his eyes growing focused on the skin between your legs. 

He always gets like this– hyper focused on the part of you that he likes most, the part of you that he’s claimed as his ‘home’ on multiple occasions. He gets so focused on the part of you that brings him the most pleasure. You’re finally seeing it for what it is: lust. Not love. Not a reciprocation of your feelings. Everyone tried to convince you of this for months, but you didn’t believe them then. You recognize it now… but you’re not willing to let him go without one last time in which you can fool yourself into believing it’s real?

So you let him in. You let him touch you. You let his fingers fill you the way that only they can, long and deft and agile. You let his mouth close over your clit, lathering spit into the bud until you’re dripping and writhing against him. 

“Ti,” you cry out when you get close, your nails digging into the muscle of his shoulder.

He grins up at you from between your legs. “Always liked it when you called me that,” Mattias says. “I don’t think I ever told you.”

Then, he increases his pace and he makes you come, flicking kitten licks over your clit like he didn’t just say something that changes your perception of the past and all the times he corrected you and asked you to call him ‘Sammy.’

You’re still thinking about it, his words running through your head like an endless loop, as he starts to work his cock into you.

“Say it again,” Mattias pleads, pressing kiss after kiss to your eager mouth. He makes sure he’s close to you, staying in just this one position: face to face, flush against each other, heart to heart. 

You repeat his little nickname breathlessly as many times as he asks. You watch the blush spread down his neck and his chest as he rolls his hips into you. He places his hand on your stomach, pressing down until he swears he can feel himself moving inside of you and you swear that it’s just making it harder to hold on. You don’t want him to make you come a second time, nor for him to finish inside of you– for the second time ever. The only other time was after your mother disapproved of him and he reassured you that she, and all of your other friends, were wrong. You don’t want this to end.

The room is hot and Mattias surrounds you. You’re expecting him to move you around like he always does, but it never comes. He lets you stare up at his face and kiss him as many times as you can and he does the exact same. It’s addicting and confusing and you want it to always be like this, but it can’t be.

He buries his face in your neck and kisses you, sucking hickey after hickey along your neck as he nears his peak. You can feel it in the way his fingertips clench on your skin, pressing tiny bruises along your hips, the back of your neck, and the soft skin where he sucked that first hickey– the one that broke your resolve.

Something to remember him by, you think briefly, although the thought only passes through your head and doesn’t stick until he’s long gone.

Mattias finishes inside of you, another thing to remember him by. He lets you grind into him until you come too, only subtly shifting his hips because he’s so sensitive. He lets his fingertips do most of the work, showering your clit in reverent touches that nearly bring tears to your eyes.

Conversation is stilted as you get dressed again. The weight of reality lies on you both like tons and tons of marble. It feels a little bit like being buried alive, you think.

You walk Mattias to the door. He kisses your forehead when he goes and wraps you in a big hug, holding you for a couple of minutes without saying a thing at all. He’s reluctant to let you go and you’re reluctant to let him leave. 

It’s for the best. This was the last time. It had to be.

In three weeks, you tell yourself the same thing as you drive to pick up a drunk Mattias from the bar. He called because it was close to your place and he couldn’t think of who else to call– said the bartender who talked to you on the phone. You may remember that it was the last time, but Mattias doesn’t seem to. 

His tender touches and babbled, drunken compliments reignite old feelings inside of you, ones that you’ve been hoping to quash for what feels like forever now. 

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever really be free of Mattias Samuelsson.

notes: in case this feels real to you, just know that i based it off of my worst situationship with my evil ex! i have been through this too, you know. i will desire mattias carnally... even if he is a red flag and incredibly evil in this one.....

[vicsbasement]

Watching Charles closely I came to believe that he might have abandonment issues (for obvious reasons), so yeah, I guess he hasn’t been taking Carlos’ departure from the team very well… Of course Carlos isn’t actively abandoning him, but anyways

Ohmygod, anon. You're absolutely right. I mean, it's a logical response to his past trauma, too. I'm not presuming to know the guy, but from what I can see, I just feel like he's really going through the trenches right now. I'm not going to say that they're extremely close, but, just from what we've been able to see about their relationship and the way they talk about each other, I'm ready to assume that they really seem to be close, especially now that we can see Charles visibly reacting to Carlos' departure from the team. I'm pretty sure there's not an ounce of bad blood between them, especially since they've been seeming so much closer ever since before Vegas. I feel like their friendship had time to develop towards the end of their third year together (trauma bonding and all things provided by a very rocky Ferrari car that put them both in uncomfortable situations that only both of them could understand) and so, now that that was blooming, to have it taken from them must be tough. Carlos has been brought up to be much less emotional about his relationships in the paddock, based on interviews alone, yet I think he's been saving up some emotion for their alone time. Charles, though... he seems to be that guy who wears his heart on his sleeve sometimes, and when it comes to this, he doesn't seem too shy to let people know that he really does like Carlos as a teammate and as a person. I mean, they have so much in common, everyone's said it, Mattia, Fred, constantly talking about their competitiveness and how close they'd become when they started to make everything a race... and they probably know each other well. They've shared small spaces, probably had important conversations with one another, they're both in a position where nobody else would get it, except for the other. And they've never, EVER shown disrespect towards each other. So, yeah. Carlos might not be abandoning Charles, but they're both in rather similar situations, and to bring Lewis into the mix, Lewis, with the bigger salary, with the seven titles, with the past experience... it should be something that makes Charles take pause and probably appreciate what he has right now with a guy who's basically in the same level as himself in terms of... I don't know, I guess gravitas. Lewis has so much, and Charles has the whole team behind him, and yet he turns to Carlos as a friend? Maybe we're not seeing how much of an equal footing they have between each other. They've probably discussed even this between them and Charles must be feeling so comfortable with Carlos by his side... This whole thing rocks his whole world, and I would love Carlos' security just as much as Charles is probably appreciating it right now. Sorry, I got totally off the rails with this, but the point is: what this shows me is that Charles really does care, deeply, about Carlos. And it's a wonder to see, honestly. If I were to be completely honest, I saw their relationship much more unilaterally. I felt like Carlos liked Charles more than he liked Carlos. But right now? Wow. I really do see how much Charles seems to appreciate Carlos' company and friendship as a teammate. And it's an absolute relief to me. The fact that he started the year defending Carlos from the italian press and insisting, on record, that they should focus on the fact that they have a whole year together out of "RESPECT FOR CARLOS"? Wow, Charles. You had my eye, before, but right now, you finally caught my attention. Thank you for sending me this ask, anon! I love analyzing stuff and the content has been pouring lately, so I love just to be able to talk about these two guys without restraints 😅

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 46:

You play stupid Games, You win stupid Prizes

Masterlist - Previous - Next

"Did you read that?" Charles asked and I looked at his phone.

"He's still gambling? He should just take that Williams seat and this whole mess is over... but no, he and his father are still talking about my goddamn seat like it's vacant!" I rolled my eyes and Charles chuckled a little.

"I can't wait for you to step out in your race suit, Doetterer 2027 on your back, right in his face that your seat is taken for the next 3 years." he sat down on the edge of the bed, and I sat up.

"I honestly don't care about him or his father... I just want to have a good weekend, perform well here at home. I want to make Germany proud. It's been a long time since a German driver won the German GP..." I sighed a little.

"Was Seb the last winner?"

"No, that was Nico in 2014. 10 years ago. Seb wasn't that lucky with Ferrari at the German grand prixs..."

"Oh yeah, true... but this year a German driver from a German team will win." Charles sounded determined and I smiled at him "I have a feeling."

"Yeah? Then let's hope you're feeling is right." I kissed his cheek and got up "And now let's go. I'm hungry." I put on Charles hoodie and we went downstairs, a loud hustling and bustling already awaiting us. Mum, Pascale and Sissy made breakfast, while Dad, Arthur and Daniel, sat at the table talking away. Benji and Liam sat on the floor playing with Arlo.

"Good morning sleeping beauty 1 and sleeping beauty 2."

Daniel was the first noticing us, right as Arlo turned around, over excitedly wagging his tail.

"Morning." I bent down, ruffling Liam and Benji's hair before I scratched Arlos head

"Sit down, sit down, breakfast will be ready any minute." Mum said from the kitchen and I plopped down next to Arthur.

"I guess you've seen the latest chapter in the never-ending Sainz to Audi saga?" Dad asked and I sighed a little.

"This weekend it will be over. He can watch Lizzie walk out in her race suit, announcing her contract renewal, Audi will put out the statement and he has to say yes to Williams, if he doesn't want to be seatless next season." Charles said and Dad nodded.

"I honestly don't get what Carlos problem was with you, Lizzie? Like seriously? He was a funny bloke, one of the guys? Nice one. But you and him? That just didn't work out." Daniel said and I shrugged my shoulders.

"He didn't like that Lizzie was better than him." Charles stated simply but I shook my head

"No, I think it all started when I was speaking out against Ferrari, mostly Mattia's way of handling you guys. And that I openly said that you are the better driver and fight for the championship and your team should fully support you. I think that was what made him furious... and from then on... well we all saw what happened."

"Yeah but everything you said was true!" Arthur said and Daniel nodded slightly.

"He's playing a dangerous game though, publicly talking about the Audi seat, not even mentioning the interest of the other teams? Basically saying he only waits for the right offer from Audi? He'll end up with no seat for next year."

"Is it a dangerous game or just a stupid game?" Charles shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess we'll see..."

"Nervous?" Elijah asked and I hesitated for a moment.

"I honestly don't know. I mean, it's Hockenheim, I know this track better than any other track. I raced there so often, I tested for Audi there so many hours, that would fill 10 full races. I raced here in F3, F2. The WSeries. Not to mention all the times I tested various cars there... but this time I race here in Formula 1? My dream comes to life... so yeah, sure I'm kinda nervous because I want to win this race and put myself under a lot of pressure. But I'm also super excited, because it's my home race that I race in freaking Formula 1." I replied, watching Dad joke with Charles, Daniel and Lorenzo.

"And today you're kicking off the race week with a nice family barbecue?"

"Yeah kinda, it's been a long time that we've all been here together. And now we added Daniel to the family, which means it's getting even louder around here." I joked right when said driver joined us at the table.

"I heard my name from my little sister?" he wiggled his eyebrows, pinching my side and I rolled my eyes laughing.

"I just said the neighbours will complain now that we added you to the family and our little backyard hangouts will be way louder than before." I chuckled and he nodded.

"Big possibility, not gonna lie."

"They survived all of you screaming and shouting after the world cup final 2014... I guess they can handle Daniel." Mum laughed and put down a salad bowl.

"Oh come on! We just won the title! Of course we freaked out a little bit!" Dad said from the barbecue and I nodded.

"A little bit? You and Hervé had fireworks! Fireworks! In July! In Germany!" Mum said and I laughed, thinking back to that day.

"It was an amazing evening! Come on!" Charles threw in, as he sat down next to me.

"Two semi-drunk men handling firework, they probably purchased illegally, in a backyard full of people and flammable things?" Pascale looked at him pointedly.

"We were careful!" Dad stated.

"Oh yeah? You two lit up one of these stick things and then, while it was already burning you read on it that you're not supposed to hold it in your hands but stick it in the ground!"

"Well... that was unfortunate. But nothing happened! We just shot these sparkly fireballs at each other." Dad shrugged.

"Seems like you guys had some good times together in the past?" Elijah smiled and I nodded.

"The best! Dad and Hervé always came up with the craziest, most random things out of the blue." I laughed and squeezed Charles hand under the table.

"They said they were brothers from another mother." he said and Pascale nodded.

"Yeah. Both grown ups with the mind of two little boys sometimes."

"Not gonna argue with that." Dad mumbled and we laughed.

"Good old times." Lorenzo said and I nodded.

"Yeah. Good old times indeed."

The moment we arrived at the Hockenheimring my mind was blown. A sea of German flags were waved everywhere. For the first time ever there where more fans waiting for me than for Charles. I was overwhelmed with the amount of people chanting my name.

"Look how they love you." Charles said, opening the door and I got out of the car.

"This is crazy!" I mumbled.

"No, its not. It's what you deserve! You deserve to be here, now and forever. This is your home. These are your people.

And look at how much they love you." he took my hand and pulled me towards the fence "Come on. They're all waiting for you, cara mia!"

I didn't know where to start, who to look at first, the amount of people cheering me on was overwhelming. I took more selfies than at all races combined before as it felt, signed team kits, flags, poster, caps and what not. My wrists were full of new bracelets, hands full of gifts.

"Thank you so much!" I hugged the girl who handed me a scratch book, after explaining to me that’s it’s a book with fan letters from girls around the world, thanking me for being their role model and writing how me being in F1 changed their life’s "This means so much to me! What’s your insta name! I want to post it and tag you! I mean if that’s okay for you?"

"Yes! Of course! I made it together with my best friend, she can’t be here unfortunately." the girl replied, typing down her Instagram name in my phone "We both hope that you’re winning this weekend! And if not you, then Charles!"

"I will try my very best!" I chuckled and took back my phone, when Charles tapped my shoulder "Thanks again for the book!"

I waved one last time to the crowd and then followed Charles to the gates, the book pressed tightly to my chest.

"Cara mia." Charles nodded towards a little girl, covered in Audi merch, hiding behind her father's legs.

I handed Charles the book and several other gifts and slowly walked towards the father daughter duo.

"Hi." I smiled at her and she gripped her dad's leg tighter.

"Maddie, come on, say hi to Lizzie." he cooed and the little girl, Maddie, carefully stepped around his legs. I immediately kneeled down, smiling at her.

"Hi Maddie, my name is Lizzie." I said, stretching out my hand and she hesitantly shook it.

"I know who you are." she said quietly "I'm a huge fan."

"Thank you, that really means a lot." I smiled.

"Maddie started karting 2 years ago after she saw you debut in F1." her dad said, and I looked up at him "She said if you can make it into F1 with only men, she can start karting with the boys."

"And you are absolutely right! Just because you're the only girl doesn't mean that you shouldn't do it! When I started karting, I also was the only girl, for a really long time actually, but it never stopped me."

"And now you're in Formula 1." she said.

"And now I'm in Formula 1."

"I think you will win this weekend, or at least I hope so."

"I will try my very best." I smiled and Maddie poked her dad's leg.

"Oh yeah, umm- can I take a picture of you two?" he asked and I nodded

"Of course." I smiled waving the girl over.

"Can you sign my cap as well?" she asked as soon as her dad gave us the thumbs up.

"Sure." I took the sharpie from her dad's hand and signed the cap "Here, all done."

"Thank you! And good luck this weekend!" she smiled and I nodded.

"Can I get a good luck hug?" I asked and she nodded excitedly and hugged me "Thank you." I got up and waved her and her dad goodbye when Charles lead me away, towards the hospitalities.

"You're so loved here, I honestly wished it was like this everywhere..." he said and I nodded a little.

"Yeah, it's really a total new feeling."

"You deserve it." he kissed my cheek and we stopped in front of the Audi hospitality "See you later? I'll pick you up and we can go together to the press conference."

"Alright." I took my gifts from him and kissed him goodbye, then walked inside where Julie was waiting for me.

"The crowd loves you!" she smiled and I put down the gifts.

"They really do, I have a feeling that this weekend we'll shoot something special." Elijah said and I flinched a little.

"I completely forgot about you." I mumbled and he laughed.

"We stayed behind, just filmed you without you even knowing we were there."

"Can you do that the whole weekend like that?" I asked and Julie laughed.

"That’s our plan. You’ll not even know that we’re here." he said and I sighed a little.

"Well, yeah, let's hope so."

"Welcome to round 13 here at Hockenheim, home gp of two of our drivers and teams. Today we're having hometown hero's Lizzie Doetterer, Audi and Nico Hülkenberg, Haas, with us, as well as Charles Leclerc, Scuderia Ferrari, Max Verstappen, Red Bull Racing and Daniel Ricciardo, Racing Bulls. I start with you Lizzie. First time racing in F1 on home turf, how are you feeling?" Tom Clarkson started the press conference, and I took the microphone.

"I'm excited, nervous, overwhelmed, yeah too much to put into words. When I was younger I watched some of the best drivers race this track and dreamed that one day I would be one of them and here I am." I answered and Charles next to me smiled.

"How does it feel, seeing all those German flags being waved, all those people in Audi merch?"

"It's just amazing. I never felt this much support ever before and it makes me more than excited to finally race here."

"You always said that Hockenheim is the track you know the best, the track you race better than any other track. Do you think it gives you a little advantage, that you know this track so well, raced here more often then most other drivers on the grid?"

"It's no disadvantage, that's for sure, but honestly, on other tracks I only raced once before I had to do it in F1, on others I've never raced before. It's like this in F1 sometimes. And nowadays with the simulators you can race as often as you want on every track, so yeah."

"Alright, let's continue with you Nico, another hometown hero." Clarkson looked at Nico and began his interview with him, then continued with Max, Daniel and lastly Charles.

"Charles, you said that Lizzie will make a big step forwards this weekend and will be one of the main threats."

"I've seen her progress over the last races, she was always close to the win, collected podium after podium, and now we're here at Hockenheim, the track she can race blindly... which she did, by the way, and Audi brought a new set of updates? Yeah, she definitely will be one of the main threats this weekend."

"You raced here with a blindfold?" Max asked me and I laughed.

"No! It was only in the simulator, a couple of years ago!" I replied and he laughed.

"And? Did you make it?"

"She did, she was only 3 seconds slower than me." Charles answered and Max looked impressed.

"Not bad."

"Alright. Let's open this up to questions from the floor. As always, please state your name and publication first." Clarkson looked into the crowd of reporters and picked the first question.

Most of the first ones were for Nico and me, how we felt about finally racing back in Germany. If Hockenheim should be permanently on the race calendar. Then the questions switched to Max and Charles and their close battle for the championship.

"Question for Lizzie. You brought a whole set of updates, how do you think they will be working?"

"Well the weather got a bit in our way to fully say how they will work out with heavy rains on the forecast for the whole weekend. So we will have to wait what we can do under this rough conditions." I say honestly.

"But you're usually really good in the rain and love a rough track?" he countered and I laughed.

"Well, yeah, but I’m usually liking it not that rough." I answered.

"News to me." Charles mumbled, not directly into his microphone, but still loud enough to get caught and the silence was loud in the room.

I looked at him with wide eyes and he sat there, petrified. The shock what he just had said evident on his face.

"So a freak in the streets and a freak in the sheets. Lucky you, Charles" Daniel laughed and I blushed.

The whole room erupted in laughter and Charles just facepalmed and mouthed a 'sorry' to me. I silently prayed for Clarkson to end the press conference and when he did I was the first one to leave, taking a deep breath as soon as I was outside.

"I’m so, so sorry, cara mia! I swear I didn’t expect the microphone to catch that." Charles followed me and held me by the waist, looking at me "It was more a joke to myself and… god I’m so sorry."

"You‘re not… you‘re grinning!" I pushed him off and he chuckled.

"Because it was kinda funny! Freaking embarrassing, but funny!" Charles pouted a little and I rolled my eyes.

"Everyone laughed and had a blast, come on mate." Max laughed, appearing right behind Charles and I glared at him "Okay. Sorry. I’m scared of your girl…" he then whispered to Charles.

"Kids, kids! Come on. It was a joke, we all laughed. Nothing bad happened." Daniel said and Charles nudged my shoulder a little "Well, nothing bad happened yet… if I’d be you, Charlie boy, I’d be scared to walk back to the paddock, where Pops will wait…"

"What?" Charles stopped grinning in an instant and swallowed hard.

"What you said? About his perfect, little girl? His princess? I wouldn’t want to be in your skin." Daniel walked off with a satisfied smile on his lips and Charles looked at me.

"Pops will laugh about it, right? He knows it was a joke?"

"I don’t know… not so sure…" now I chuckled and grabbed his hand "Come on, let’s see."

"Lizzie!" he whined and I laughed even louder.

"Oh come on, it was just a joke, you said it yourself…" I pulled him with me and as soon as we spotted Dad sitting outside the Audi hospitality, playing with Arlo, Charles slowed down.

"Look who’s there!" Dad unbuckled the leash from Arlo’s harness and he bolted off, straight into us and I bent down, scratching his ears.

"Hello my good boy. Did you play with Pops a little?" I cooed and followed him back to where Dad was sitting, Charles staying a little behind.

"So, how is it being here?" Dad asked me and I sat down, shrugging my shoulders.

"It’s normal, I guess?" I said, watching Charles take a tentative step towards us, still looking at Dad.

"Pete is confident that the upgrades will work out."

"Yeah, they all are, I guess we have to wait and see, no?" I picked up Arlo, sitting him down in my lap, when Dad turned to Charles.

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Charles asked nervously.

"Yeah, your car was lacking straight line speed in Silverstone? Did you fix that problem?"

"Oh… umm yeah, yeah, the team is confident that they fixed this issue." he sounded slightly relieved, letting out a deep breath, sitting down next to me, still a little fidgety.

"You okay there, Charles? Rough night?" Dad asked and Charles eyes widened.

"It was a joke! A stupid joke! I’m so, so sorry!" he blurted out and Dad bursted out laughing.

"Boy, I never saw you sweating like that." he shook his head, still laughing.

"I’m really sorry." Charles mumbled and Dad got up, patting his shoulder.

"It’s alright, Charlie boy." he said and walked inside.

"Why do I feel like he’s secretly planning something?" Charles mumbled and I shrugged.

"Because he probably is…"

"Very comforting, thank you."

"Always."

Another day, another sea of German flags, Audi shirts and caps and poster of me were greeting us when we stepped out of the car and I couldn't stop the big grin forming on my lips. I zipped my jacket close and put the hood on, trying to stay dry.

"Excited?" Charles asked and I nodded.

"I think I was never this excited for FP1 ever before.. " I laughed and he pulled me to his side, kissing my temple.

"Same, same." he chuckled, dropping me off at my hospitality "Have a good session."

"You too." I smiled, climbing up the stairs.

"Lizzie?" Julie held the door open for me and I walked inside, the whole team standing around a table and I followed her inside.

"What's going on?" I asked when Pete and Valtteri stepped aside, revealing a cake.

In big red letters DOETTERER 2027 carefully piped on.

"Congrats on your contract renewal!" Valtteri said and I hugged him.

"Thank you, Valtteri! But where are you going? I mean... with Nico coming?" I whispered.

"It's all good, little one. I talked to Felix the moment I got a new offer, that’s when he contacted Nico…" he said and I looked at him "I’m going back to Mercedes, for one year and then it’s time to retire."

"Wait… what?"

"Toto called me as soon as Lewis told him. With Kimi Antonelli Mercedes has a good driver for the future, but he needs more experience, 2025 is too early for him, so I’ll take over for one year."

"But why retire? You still have some good years ahead of you!"

"Because it’s time. One day, you just feel it." he nudged my shoulder a little and smiled "And now come on… let’s have a piece of cake and then go into the car!"

"Okay…" I nodded slowly and stepped closer to the table.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" Matt and some of my mechanics began to chant and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Okay, okay, okay! Honestly I don’t have much to say, just that I’m grateful for every single one of you! You are the best team I could’ve ever ended up in. You always believe in me and have my back, support me no matter what. Today we celebrate us, this team. Thank you guys!" I said, smiling at my team and Felix pulled me close to his side.

"Alright everyone! Let’s have some cake!" he said and then turned to me "And then get out there and have some fun."

I sat on the sofa, mindlessly scratching Arlo’s head in my lap, not listening to the conversations around me.

"Cara mia?" Charles squeezed my thigh and I looked up from my lap "Come on, eat something."

"I’m not hungry." I mumbled, looking back down.

"Hey, look at me." he scooted closer, gently grabbing my chin, turning my head "It wasn’t your fault… you couldn’t do anything. You were amazing in FP1, okay? We all saw how good you were! And what happened in FP2? It was out of your hands, until the crash you were the fastest on mediums! No one could match your pace, not even on softs!"

"Yeah but I crashed out, Charles!" I groaned and he sighed.

"No you didn’t! Logan crashed out and took you out as well an-…"

"I could’ve reacted quicker! Go around him, just do something to avoid the crash!" I interrupted him.

"No, no you could not, okay? Stop bashing yourself. It’s not your fault, end of the story." Charles looked at me pointedly and after a moment I sighed and nodded a little "Now, would you please eat something?"

"Yeah…" I sat Arlo down next to me and grabbed my fork.

"Thank you." Charles kissed my cheek and I took a bite of my salad.

"Tomorrow’s a new day, don’t beat yourself up too much." Dad said and I nodded again.

"I just wanted this to be the perfect weekend, you know? No mistakes. Good results. So that when the contract renewal is announced on Sunday no one doubts it…" I sighed.

"And you still can do it! Today was unfortunate, but it wasn’t your fault! Tomorrow you’ll come back stronger." Charles looked at me determined.

"I hope you’re right…"

"I am. You’ll see…"

Pole position. Freaking pole position. I cheered into the radio. Not understanding what Pete said for the first few seconds.

"You did it, little one! P fucking 1! Wooohooo! We’re all so proud of you!" his voice rang in my ears and I laughed.

"Let’s fucking go, guys! The car was on fire!"

"It really was!"

"Where’s Charles? Valtteri?" I asked, hoping to hear some good results.

"P2 and P4. Amazing job from you guys!"

I parked my car in the P1 spot and jumped out, running towards my team, celebrating our first pole in a while.

"Amazing job, little one!" Pete patted my back.

"What a lap!" Felix shouted.

"Thanks guys!" I high fived everyone when a pair of arms engulfed me from behind.

"What an amazing lap, cara mia!" Charles muffled voice behind me.

I turned around and opened my visor, his eyes already on mine. He pulled me towards the tables and I took my helmet off, followed by my balaclava, wiping my face.

"POLE SITTER!" Daniel yelled, storming our way, hugging me tight "Good job, Lizzie!"

"Thanks Danny." I smiled, seeing Pierre making his way to us.

"You so going to win tomorrow!" his first words as soon as he pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Don't jinx it!" I laughed and slapped his arm.

"I don't! It's just an honest opinion!" he chuckled and walked off.

"Lizzie?" an F1 official smiled at me and I nodded, taking the microphone from him.

"Lizzie! Congratulations on your pole! What an amazing qualifying session! Talk us through your pole lap." Nico Rosberg smiled his 10.000 mega watt smile at me and I took a deep breath, seeing all the Germany flags being waved behind him in the grandstand.

"Honestly, I just pushed, pushed, pushed. I knew that the rain would come any minute back and thought to myself that I just have to go full throttle. And it worked out perfectly."

"That it did. What do you think is possible in the race, can you win tomorrow, as the first German driver in a long time?"

"You mean as the first German driver after your last win here?" I chuckled and he nodded laughing "I think if we can maximise our race pace, have a good and clean start, a lot is possible."

"You're driving with a special livery this weekend, and I noticed a very interesting detail on your car and helmet..." Nico pointed at the hood of my car and I smiled, looking at the large 7.

"I wanted to pay tribute to not just this amazing track, because it's a shame that we don't have this track in the race calendar every season, but also go a little deeper. Germany and F1 belong together, and that's because of the amazing German F1 driver's of the past, but also the present. After waiting for this race for so long, I wanted to have every single German F1 driver with me, so yeah. I wanted to pay tribute to the guys who represented Germany so well in Formula 1, so yeah there's you, Seb, Timo, Nico but also some less known names, but still important. And of course, the Schumachers. Ralf and Michael, who was my hero growing up and I'm sure of so many others as well, he gave so much to this sport, he’s a legend, and also Mick, who should be driving on this track with me tomorrow, he didn’t get the chance he deserved back in Haas and I hope that changes in the future." I said proudly and Nico nodded.

"What a beautiful gesture. I think I speak for everyone who's on your car and helmet, when I say thank you so much, it means a lot." his voice was wavering a little and I squeezed his arm.

"I hope you like the photo of you that I chose." I laughed, to brighten the mood again and he smiled.

"I have to check it out, but honestly, every photo would be great, just because of the gesture. For now, I wish you all the best and good luck for tomorrow."

"Thanks, Nico." I handed my microphone to Charles who smiled brightly at me, then walked off to Julie, who was already waiting for me.

"Good job, Lizzie." she smiled and I followed her to the media pen "I need to take some pictures of you in your new race suit for tomorrow."

"Okay..." I sighed and she chuckled.

"Just a few quick shots, that's all I need."

"Okay.." I repeated and she playfully rolled her eyes.

"Thank you! And now smile, your on pole for your home race!"

"Yep, that I am." a big smile on my face again, when I read the text from Seb.

I woke up earlier than usually. Got up and took a quick shower, getting ready for the day. Then I waited for Charles to wake up. Breakfast went by in a blur and the drive to the track was even faster. All the fans around cheering for me, wishing me good luck, telling me that I would win, made me smile. I was getting more and more excited and when I walked inside my drivers room and looked at the race suit, the excitement bubbled up even more. The German flag in stripes down the arms and legs, my name on the back as well coloured in the German flag, paired with the 2027. All black. It looked dangerous. Our designer team really did an amazing job.

"Come on, fireproofs on and then let me braid your hair…" Mum smiled at me and I nodded, going on with my usual race day routine "We’re all so proud of you, Lizzie. So incredibly proud! Pole position, new contract, high chances of a win. And that all here at Hockenheim…"

"Oh Mum stop! Don’t cry!" I chuckled and she wiped away a tear, smoothing down my hair, combing through it "It’s a weekend like any other!"

"But it’s not! I’ve never seen so many people supporting you! Screaming your name! Finally you get the recognition you deserve." a soft smile on her lips "It just makes me so happy to see you happy."

"Oh Mum…" I turned around and hugged her.

"Okay, come on now. Silly me. Let’s get you ready and then present that beautiful race suit!" she wiped her tears away and braided my hair.

I checked as always that they weren’t too tight, moved my head around and gave her the thumbs up.

"Alright. I’ll wait outside for you." she kissed my cheek and left.

I turned around, grabbing the suit from the hanger and put it on, leaving the top unzipped pooling around my waist.

"Liz? You decent?" JK knocked at the door and I opened up "Ready for a little warm-up?"

He walked inside, a big grin on his lips, looking at my race suit.

"I'm so freaking excited to see Sainz' face." he laughed, and I chuckled a little.

"I just have to deliver as well... then it's a lethal punch in the guts." I shrugged my shoulders a little and he nodded.

"You'll do great, and now come on, let me get you ready." he clapped his hands, and got up "Okay, first your back and then some agility."

We started the warm-up routine and JK watched me carefully, every little hiss or frown was noted, and the exercise immediately adjusted. After 30 minutes I got up from the mat on the floor and took a big sip from my water bottle.

"I think I can win this today…" I said after a while and JK nodded.

"I think so too. You worked so hard the last weeks. You’ll start from pole. This is your win today." he smiled "And now let’s go, it’s time to show the world who‘s driving for Audi the next 3 seasons to come."

"Who‘s that? Oh right… ME!" I laughed and he chuckled.

"Come on now."

"Aye, aye captain." I saluted and he rolled his eyes, pushing me away gently.

I looked outside, the sky grey, light rain falling.

"Lizzie? It’s time." Pete looked at me and I took a deep breath.

"Alright, let's do this." I took one last sip of water and then turned to Julie, a big smile on her face.

"We'll let you walk out, stand with Nico in front of the entire grid, everyone will see the 2027 and right then I will post the official announcement." she said and I nodded, pulling my race suit up.

"How does it look?" I asked her and she gave me the thumbs up.

"Freaking amazing." Charles said behind me and I turned around "You look gorgeous."

"Oh stop. I'm just wearing a race suit..." I chuckled and he grabbed me by the waist pulling me into him.

"Yeah, I can see that, but it's your smile that's so captivating..." he kissed me, and I heard some of my mechanics hollering "Ready to kick some asses and let some jaws drop to the floor?"

"Hell yes!" I said and he smiled, taking my hand, leading me outside.

The first moments nothing much happened, but with every step I took further down the grid, a murmuring was going around. I saw the cameras filming us, Charles grinned, and some mechanics from other teams pointing at my back. And then I looked up at the big screen, showing my back, flashing the message out for everyone to see and the crowd cheered even louder.

"Seems like the crowd likes it..." Charles nudged me gently and I nodded, looking up at the screen again, where I looked in my face, a big smile on my lips.

"Urgh...stop filming my face." I chuckled and turned slightly, looking for the camera man.

"Stop whining, this is your moment!" Charles whispered and pushed me towards Nico, who already waited for me.

"Ready?" he asked and I nodded, walking in front of the rest of the grid to stand on the marked spot for us.

"It’s so weird… I’m used to stand somewhere behind… not in the middle with all eyes on me, or us…" I mumbled and he chuckled.

"It’s just for the anthem, you will survive." he said, then grinned "Oh, and congrats, team mate." he nudged my shoulder and I chuckled a little.

As soon as we both stood on our designated spots and Nico took off his cap the German national anthem started playing and we both sang along. For the first time today I felt the nervousness overcoming me, felt the tingling in my hands. This was it. This was it. The day I dreamed of for so many years. I would race in Formula 1 at Hockenheim. I saw the marching band preparing for the anthem and closed my eyes, for a moment, soaked it all in. With the beginning of the anthem I opened my eyes, starting to sing along. I never felt this pride in my life and the atmosphere was buzzing.

The next moments all happened in a blur. I walked back to my garage, did some last stretches, looked over the data once more, then it was time. Mum, Dad, Sissy, Liam, Marcus and Benji looked at me. All smiling. All looking proud.

"My sweet girl, we're all so, so proud of you!" Mum hugged me and I smiled

"We had that already today, Mum." I chuckled and she pulled awa, sniffling lightly.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry!" she whispered and managed to smile a little.

"Come here, my little owl." Dad pulled me in another bear hug "Kick their asses, Lizzie. Show them how good you really are." he whispered and I nodded.

"I'll try my best." I whispered back, then he pulled me away and next Sissy, then Marcus hugged me.

"We're proud of you."

"You'll win this."

"Only if my two little lads hug me!" I smiled at my nephews and both hugged me in an instant.

"Good luck, Lizzie!" Benji chirped.

"I know that you'll win!" Liam smiled brightly.

"Thank you guys so much!" I kissed their heads and then waved one last time.

Then I turned around, following JK out on the grid.

"Lizzie! Lizzie!" Martin Brundle caught up to us and I smiled at him "Woman of the hour. Pole setter, contract renewal, maybe race winner?"

"I will try my very best to achieve it." I replied and he smiled.

"3 more years with Audi, what a way to announce it, here, in front of your home crowd."

"They don't say for nothing there's no place like home, you know."

"Very well said. And I'm being honest with you, I'm rooting for you today. No better way to celebrate your contract renewal than with a home race win. Good luck out there!"

"Thanks, Martin!" he squeezed my shoulder and then hurried off, right when we arrived at my car.

"This is it. The moment you've been waiting for." JK smiled and I looked up at the sky for a moment. Watched the clouds brighten up a little.

"This is it. Indeed." I smiled and saw Charles coming over.

"Ready for it?" he smiled.

"Baby, let the race begin."

Charles chuckled and then hugged me one last time, kissing my temple.

"You can do it. We all believe in you. You'll win this race today!" he whispered and I nodded.

"I see you next to me then?"

"Oh hell yes." he nudged my chin gently and then walked back to his car, getting ready himself.

"Liz?"

I turned around, taking my balaclava first and then my helmet from JK, putting both on. Then I climbed in the car, got buckled and strapped in, put my gloves on and waited lastly for my steering wheel. A sense of calmness was washing over me and I felt myself smiling. This was my home. This was my win.

"Ready?" Matt signaled me and I gave him the thumbs up.

"Ready."

I never felt this at one with my car. It was almost like the car and my brain were connected and whatever I thought, the car reacted immediately. I was like in a tunnel, my whole surroundings faded away and it was only me, my car and the track. It felt like I heard Pete for the first time in hours when he told me that I should bring it home.

"Last lap?" I asked, almost flabbergasted.

"Last lap, Lizzie." he radioed back and I couldn't believe it.

"Already?"

"Already.. you were flying." he chuckled.

I breezed past Sachs, into turn 13 and 14, next into turn 15 and lastly into the Südkurve, watching the grandstand, a sea of black, red and yellow. I spotted the checkered flag and it was done. I won. Hockenheim.

"YOU DID IT!" Pete screamed "PHENOMENAL JOB, LIZZIE!"

"I won..." my voice barely a whisper.

"Yes you did! You won!"

"FUCKING HELL I WON!" I yelled.

"We're all so proud of you, little one! Amazing race!"

"Thank you guys so much! This is our win. All the hard work every single one poured into this made us win today!"

"It was you, who won today!" Felix radioed "You drove brilliantly, Lizzie."

"Thanks Felix, for everything."

"We're so proud of you, little one."

"Where's Valtteri?"

"P4. We earned a big chunk of points today. Well done!" I was overwhelmed. I won. Hockenheim. My mind went into autopilot. I parked the car in the middle spot. Unbuckled my seatbelt and headrest. Unclipped my steering wheel and climbed out. The crowd chanting. My name. Unbelievable. On shaky legs I jumped into my team. Celebrated our victory.

Watched my family celebrating my win.

"YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT! YOU WON!" Liam and Benji chirped and I hugged them both, jumping up and down.

"We're so proud of you. You were amazing!" Dad patted my helmet and I saw Mum wiping away some tears.

"Mum! Enough tears, come on!" I chuckled and she nodded.

"Go! Celebrate!" she smiled, looking behind me and without even turning around I knew who she was looking at.

I pulled my helmet off and turned around, Charles. Helmet already off. Wearing his biggest, most adorable smile. His eyes sparkling, looking at me. I pulled my balaclava off and sprinted towards him, not caring for a single moment what people would say, and jumped into his arms.

"You won, cara mia! I'm so proud of you!" he whispered, hugging me tight and the moment he pulled away slightly, I captured his lips in a searing kiss.

The world faded to nothing. Only Charles and I. And after what felt like ages my head started to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen and I slowly pulled away.

"I love you." I breathed out and Charles smile made my heart go faster.

"In front of everyone? What's gotten into you?" he chuckled and I smiled sheepishly.

"I don't give a fuck anymore. I have a seat for the next 3 years in the best team. I won my home race. I have the best family and friends. And I have you. Why would I care about anyone else anymore?"

"I love you, my crazy girl." he whispered against my lips and kissed me again, right when someone cleared their throat, making us pull away.

"I really don't want to interrupt..."

"No, its fine..." I laughed, taking the microphone.

"Lizzie! Congrats on your win here today! What a race. At no time your win was in danger. How do you feel, after winning your home race?" Nico Rosberg asked and I took a deep breath, looking up at the crowd, the sea of German flags, the people chanting my name.

"I'm speechless. Seriously. I'm overwhelmed with it all... I was the whole race like in a tunnel. Just kept doing my thing. I think I never spoke this little with Pete during a race."

"You were genuinely surprised when your race engineer told you that it was the last lap?"

"Yeah, because I was so freaking focused. I swear I don't even know anymore when I pitted! It was all one big blur." I chuckled a little.

"You did amazing. Congratulations. You made all of Germany proud today, am I right?" Nico turned to the crowd and the chanting got even louder "Congratulations again, Lizzie, what an unbelievable race!"

"Thanks Nico." I smiled, handing Charles the microphone and followed the F1 official to the cool down room.

I put my helmet down, grabbed a bottle of water and sat down, closing my eyes. All the emotions almost bubbling over. I still couldn't believe it. I won Hockenheim.

"There she is, my race winner." Charles walked in and I smiled "How does it feel? Winning your home race?"

"Umm... freaking amazing? Overwhelming? Fucking awesome?" I laughed and he nodded "You kept Max behind you then?" I looked at him, when a replay of the race start was shown.

"Yeah, wasn't easy though." he shrugged, right when Max walked in.

"There she is. Home GP winner." he smiled and hugged me "What a race. I think I saw you at the start the only time the whole race."

"Our pace was out of this world today." I nodded when I watched another replay on the screen. Sainz going wide off track. I couldn't stop the grin from forming.

"Come on now, lets get your trophy!" Charles pulled me out of my chair, then he grabbed something out of his helmet and threw it around my shoulders, I looked down. A German flag.

"It's your home race! Let's go, don't let your crowd wait." he pushed me towards the door and I braced myself one last time, then stepped outside.

I climbed up the highest step, the sun breaking through the cloudy sky, the crowd chanting my name. I did it. I really did it. I watched Michael, one of our head strategists walk outside, hugging me again, taking his place on the right. Next came Charles, then Max. I took off my cap and looked up in the sky as the German anthem played. Charles smiled up at me proudly and I couldn’t contain the smile on my own face. The crowd singing along our anthem. Dad, Pete and Felix all together screaming it from the top of their lungs. Liam and Benji waving and clapping. I felt invincible. The moment the anthem stopped I prepared myself to lift up the most important trophy of my life so far. I held the German flag together, taking the trophy from Stefano Domenicali, who congratulated me and stepped aside. The moment I lifted the trophy over my head the crowd erupted. It was almost deafening. I sat my trophy down, waving at Liam and Benji when Les Toreadors started playing and I felt myself getting soaked in champagne from 3 sides. I managed to grab my bottle and spray a little champagne myself before we toasted our bottles together.

"Cheers to Lizzie!" Charles smiled at me and I took a swig of champagne, immediately scrunching up my nose.

We all huddled together to take the photos and I felt like I would never stop smiling. All the way down the podium, back to the garage where every single one of my team hugged me, to my family doing the same. The smile on my face only getting bigger and bigger. I even enjoyed the interviews and the press conference for once, even joked around.

"Go back to your team now, and later on, we’re going to celebrate!" Charles kissed me one last time and I cocked an eyebrow.

"Where are we going?"

"You’ll see. And now go!" he pushed me up the stairs of the Audi hospitality, laughing when I turned around and stocked out my tongue "GO!"

I shook my head and walked inside, the team already celebrating.

"I heard that Charles planned a party?" Felix looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I have no idea. Honestly."

"There is still one last race before the summer break next week…" I could see how he was fighting off a big smile and made my best puppy eyes.

"Only a ittle partying? Pretty please?" I pouted and Felix laughed.

"Just a little!" he said and I cheered.

"Let’s fucking gooo!"

It was like I was floating on cloud 9 the next days. After a big hangover for the half of Monday, the big smile on my face returned immediately back. I won Hockenheim. My home race. One more race and it was summer break. Life couldn’t be better. Only the weather didn’t pass the vibe check. Still heavy rains. Still grey skies. Spa would be another battle in the rain.

"Lizzie, how do you feel? After winning your home gp, seeing how good the updates worked?" Lawrence Barretto asked.

"Honestly, it still feels a little unreal. I mean it was an incredible, unbelievable feeling. The atmosphere was great, the fans were amazing. It was overall one of my best weekends in F1 so far for me." I replied with a big smile.

"Spa is, after Hockenheim of course, one of your favourite tracks, do you think the updates will work on this track as well?"

"I’m confident that the car will do great here as well, yes."

"There has been a lot of… different opinions about your contract renewal, what do you say to the people, thinking you don’t deserve a seat in F1?"

"I did the talking on track. I won a race, three in total in my third season in a midfield to slightly top team. While others in top teams won their first race in their sixth season. That’s all I have to say."

"Thank you Lizzie and good luck this weekend."

"Thanks." I smiled and walked off,

"Subtle." Julie chuckled and I shrugged.

"He could’ve just shut the f up and not comment on it. I just won my home race and instead of saying that he’s happy for me. Or just laugh and say good for her. No he had to say that it leaves him worried for Sainz, because he hoped that he would get my seat to make him stay in F1… he can fuck right off." I said, raising my voice at the end when I spotted the very person of my rage.

"Yeah, he should’ve just kept quiet. But you know him…" Julie sighed and we walked towards the exit.

"Yeah. Doesn’t make it better."

"I know. Let’s go. Ignore him." she lead me outside and for a brief moment Norris looked up, his eyes on mine, but I looked away and kept walking.

"I guess I have to do the talking on track again this weekend." I mumbled, and Julie nodded.

"That you do! And you show everyone that you deserve this seat more than Sainz does. Period."

"Oh 100 %."

"Hey Mr. Pole sitter." I smiled at Charles when he unlocked the car, ushering me inside "Not gonna lie. That lap was sexy."

"Oh come one, silly girl." he laughed, starting the engine.

"What? Max had all purples and was this close setting a new lap record and then you chimed in with all purples beating his time, even closer to a new lap record and then just casually top your won times with again all purples and really set a new record?" I looked at him and he shook his head "That was sexy. So. Damn. Sexy."

"Okay, okay!" he chuckled and I smiled "It was a good quali, I’m just sorry for you."

"The rules are the rules. He set the time first, so he’s in front of me." I shrugged my shoulders a little and Charles sighed.

"I know, it still sucks. You’ll be in a Lando and Carlos sandwich at the start."

"Ewww, don’t you dare ever saying that again!" I punched his arm and he laughed.

"Sorry. But seriously. Be careful."

"I will be, don’t worry." I said, looking out the window, watching how the rain kept pouring down.

"Let’s just hope for better weather tomorrow. Spa and that rain? That’s a red flag fest." Charles said and I nodded.

"Yeah, let’s really hope for better weather."

But all hopes and prayers were for nothing. It was still raining cats and dogs and when we arrived at the track, we were soaked down to our bones.

"I’ll see you later, cara mia." Charles kissed me and left.

I walked inside, taking my rain coat off, watching a few team members sit huddled together in the corner.

"That’s just sad. Both cars? I mean, better than the whole Australia incident, giving the driver who crashed out the other one’s car… but still…" Matt said and shook his head.

"What happened?" I asked and they turned around, greeting me.

"Williams won’t start the race. With both cars. They had to withdraw. Chassis and PU problems. They didn’t get ready in time because the spare parts were missing." Matt said and I looked at him with big eyes "Yeah, it’s sad…"

"Fucking hell, both cars? Damn." I mumbled, taking my phone out to read the official F1 article.

I finished reading when Charles texted me, saying he overheard the biggest news. When I asked him what it was he replied to wait and enjoy. I groaned and JK looked at me questioningly.

"You good?"

"Charles said A but not B…"

"Sorry, what? Is that a weird sex code?"

"What the fuck? No! He hinted at something but then didn’t tell me what it was about and I want to know!" I looked at him with big eyes.

"Oh, okay. So you mean if you are at the ball, you must dance. The saying goes who says A must say B in German?" JK asked.

"Better than if you’re at the ball, you must dance? That’s weird? And so long!" I defended and he held his hands up.

"I forgot, German efficiency."

"Exactly. German efficiency."

"Will you tell me now what you heard?" I asked Charles when we got ready after the anthem and he chuckled, grabbing my hand "Charles!"

"Patience, cara mia, patience!" he pulled me with him, looking around, searching for something.

"What are you looking for?"

He shook his head and then spotted Sainz, pulling me towards him.

"Carlos. Hey. I overheard the big news earlier, congrats on your new team. Looks like they all can’t wait for you to come, in fact, they were this excited that they completely forgot to get their car’s ready for the race." Charles said and I looked at him with big eyes "Let’s go, cara mia."

"What the…" I began, looking at him.

"He signed with Williams. I heard him, his father and cousin and Sylvia talk about it. The way they want to announce it." he chuckled and then turned around, grinning at Sainz who looked our way.

"You’re evil." I whispered, following his look.

"I know… but you love it, no?"

"Not gonna lie, it’s hot. Scary, but hot." I chuckled and he laughed.

"What is scary but hot?" Andrea asked and JK just shook his head.

"Do we even want to know." he rolled his eyes and I laughed.

"We were just talking about our good friend Sainz."

"What about him?" Andrea asked and Charles wiggled his eyebrows.

"He has a new team… sadly that team has no car on the grid…"

"He sighed with Williams?" JK asked, his head snapping around, watching Sainz "On the weekend where both cars have a DNS?"

"Williams. One of the worst team on the grid…"

"You know, like a really famous poet once said: You play stupid games, You win stupid prizes." I shrugged and all 3 looked at me for a moment.

"Taylor Swift." they said in unison and I laughed.

"I’m proud of you, my fellow Swiftie."

"Let’s get you guys in the car." JK rolled his eyes playfully and I pushed him away.

"Good luck, cara mia. Be careful. They both are ruthless at the start! I want you on that podium with me." Charles pulled me close, then kissed me gently "Drive safe. These conditions allow zero mistakes. I love you."

"I love you too, go and win this race." I smiled and he nodded, pecking my lips again, before he walked off with Andrea.

"Alright. Let’s get you in the car, come on." JK said and I nodded, turning around and preparing for the race.

When I sat in the car, everything was checked and ready, I took a deep breath. Looking to my left, spotting Norris who looked my way. I had to fight off Tweedledee and Tweedledum right at the start. Great. One last radio check and the formation started, the spray from Max making my vision practically non existent. As soon as we were back in our grid boxes I focused on the lights and accelerated the moment they went out, gaining massive momentum, almost instantly overtaking Norris. I inwardly cheered a little, pushing the throttle full through, focusing on what was happening in front, while trying to stay ahead of Norris and Sainz.

"Red Flag. Red Flag." Pete radioed and I cursed.

"What happened?"

"Daniel, Pierre, Ocon, Stroll and Alonso had a little something."

"Everyone okay?"

"Yeah, looks like Ocon and Alonso won’t be able to continue."

"Okay."

"Safety car."

The track was clear surprisingly fast and we all left the pits again, following the safety car.

"Standing start, Lizzie, back in P4."

"Of course." I mumbled hoping for another good start like the one minutes ago and was pleasantly surprised when I breezed past Norris for the second time today.

The rain was slightly getting lighter, the sight was still bad though and the first laps I had to focus more on seeing something than on driving fast. But that soon changed and I saw Sainz coming closer and closer.

"What lap are we in? I can’t read it."

"17."

27 more to go. I could do it. I could stay ahead.

"Weather update." I radioed after another 3 laps.

"No change for the next 6-8 laps."

"And then?"

"Heavier rain."

"Okay." I sighed.

The track was slippery and I felt my car slide from left to right, right to left in every turn I took. Charles and Max in front were having the same issues, fighting each other hard. I slipped and hit a kerb hard, feeling how I was losing the rear, but managed to keep the car on track, giving Sainz the opportunity to come even closer.

"Check the floor."

"On it."

I waited anxiously for Pete’s reply, while trying my best to stay ahead of Sainz.

"No significant damage."

"Okay."

The next 4 laps Sainz caught up to me, trying to overtake me and I had to fight him off more than I liked. The rain was slightly getting heavier, my sight was getting worse. 20 more laps to go. And Sainz was now closer than ever.

"I don’t think I can fight him off much longer." I radioed.

"Lizzie, let him pass… you can catch up to him again. But with your tyres now, it’s too dangerous."

I didn’t answer. Giving up my position wasn’t what I wanted. Especially not to him. But destroying my tyres by fighting him off, having no grip in these conditions was indeed dangerous.

"Lizzie."

"Okay."

I clenched my jaw and drove to the left, making space for Sainz to overtake me, which he did immediately. I had a bad feeling when I saw him breeze past me and as if on cue his car was wavering, losing grip, his left rear tyre, touching my front tyre and I felt my car sliding to the left, trying my best to keep it on track but it was already too late. I lost all control, losing the rear entirely, spinning out, the wet track didn’t slow me down and by the time I reached the gravel my car was already spinning to fast and I prepared myself for the impact. The moment I hit the wall, pain erupted in my back and I screamed out. Panting heavily.

"Are you okay?" Pete radioed and I tried my best to calm down my breathing "Lizzie?"

"I- I ca-…" my voice broke, breathing staggered.

"Lizzie? Hey! LIZZIE! Can you hear me? Are you okay!" Pete shouted in my ear.

"I’m okay." I pressed out, hearing my blood rushing in my ears.

I was heaving. Hands shaking. A pain raging through my back like a wild fire. The pain in my neck and shoulders, mind numbing. I looked ahead, saw what was left of my car stuck in the wall, front tyres, hood, all gone.

"Stay put. The medical car and marshall’s are on their way."

"Pete?"

"Yeah, little one?"

"I can’t feel my legs."

Chapter 46 - winning a home GP is something special and making Lizzie win hers was one of my favourite things in this whole fic, as a German myself I miss having a German GP and most importantly a German driver in a big team who can actually fight for wins (sorry Nico 🙈) … what else happened? Oh, yeah… Belgium… 😬 I guess I’ll leave you hanging for a bit…

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @shimmermotorsport @janeh22 @kahhorri @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09 @fangirlforever2000

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[alienoresimagines]

“I was made to protect you” please!

These all sounds interesting. I love how poetic your wip titles are ☺️

Aw thank you ❤️ Gotta make the most of the 130k minutes spent on spotify to find good lyrics, even though this one in particulat isn't from a song 😂

@rambleonwaywardson and @coastiewife465 also asked about 'I was made to protect you' ❤️

So this is the Bodyguard AU (and royalty AU? Maybe) I briefly mentioned to @soliloquy-dawn with Prince!John and Bodyguard!Gale

It's on the backburner for now because I haven't figured out exactly what I want from it beside a general idea and tropes but!

Think of The Witcher kind of vibes. John is the Crown Prince of a kingdom who has a 'regular' army and a small amount of 'superhuman soldiers', which are often used as Royal Guards. Those few soldiers were trained since they were extremely young to the art of war, protecting and weapons, also having their senses heightened by quite gruesome magic. Since many children die in their training, parents who send their children there receive quite a lot of financial compensation. And Gale's father... well he needs money to pay off his debts and bet, and a kid is only a void for that money so here goes Gale. And of course, poor Gale overworks himself, thinking if he works hard enough he'll be allowed to go home but he works so well that higher ups decide to put him through further trials and train him even harder to be the designated Crown Prince's -so the future King- bodyguard. Quite literally "made to protect you".

Cut to a slow burn of John trying to make this stoic, ice cold of a man to crack a smile, then drama as John learns the truth of Gale's upbringing and feels guilty for it, Gale somehow visiting his hometown and realising the money his father got from him was used for bets and further endebted his parents, making his sacrifice useless, a healthy dose of hurt/comfort because what is a Bodyguard AU without one of them (or both) getting hurt, and Gale learning to be vulnerable 🥹 and to have feelings 🥹 and be loved for who he is, not just what he can do 🥹 also smut!!! John showing Gale what pleasure is lmao and being in awe at the way Gale can be such a sweetheart beneath his armor and the TRUST, the PINING, the LOYALTY

I should probably sit down and think of an actual plot but this is what I have so far 😅

Also the title is from the allegiance oath of Mattias in Six Of Crows "I was made to protect you, Only in death will I be kept from this oath" which I find so so perfect but it may be just a working title for now 🤔

If you have any thoughts or ideas for this, I'm all ears 🤗❤️

[astaroth1357]

My very imaginative human names for the boys are stan for satan and simon for simeon i thought very hard for those

Due to the nature of the idea, I want to keep it to things that I think that, if the brothers were going to the human world, they would pick out for themselves. Unfortunately, that also means they could just be bad at naming things. The current rankings are:

Lucifer: Lance or Luther. Lucifer is smart and I think he would know that Lucien or Lucius is going to stand out. (One of those is literally the alias for the guy who founded the Satanic Temple. It's not a normal name with normal connotations.) And Lukas is just Luke and he already knows one. Either of those still sound vaguely posh but not overly attention seeking.

Mammon: Though I was thinking Mattias or Mateo, if I'm being honest, I think he would pick something extra like Maximilian purely because it sounds like "a million"= 1,000,000 Grimm. Won't fit him at all, but he'll go by Max.

Levi: Levi shouldn't change his name, but if he's going to the human world then he'll treat it like an isekai situation. He's going to change his name to Aki or Subaru or something. Whatever the most vaguely generic Japanese protag name I can think of is.

Satan: He's going to name himself after a popular cat. It is a forgone conclusion. So I'm thinking either Salem (Sabrina the Teenage Witch) or Sylvester (Looney Tunes, but the nickname is Sullie). Salem is witchy but I like the nickname Sullie.

Asmo: I'm pretty content with the name Aster for him. It's a flower, it's unisex, it even starts with As. I can see him in a good fit, put the name Aster on him, and it works well enough for me. Works even better if you imagine Solomon calling him that in the exasperated voice of a long suffering BF.

Beel: Ben. I went looking through a lot of names and realized that Beel probably isn't going to remember anything too complicated. He'll stick to something easy. Ben works.

Belphie: For this idea, the brothers are picking their own names, and this is the human hating era, so I just don't think he'll pick one. No alias, just Belphegor and the world has to deal with it. Thankfully, he's lesser known so it won't raise instant red flags for most. MC will eventually call him Bell/Belle instead of Belphie, so it's just a bit more normal.

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) Strategy

Requested: wattpad

Prompt: Charles' girlfriend is a strategist and won't give him the better strategy

Warnings: lil toxic

Y/N sat looking through some information she had gotten from qualifying from both her drivers Charles and Carlos. Working with the Scuderia was a dream come true and she wore the crest with pride whenever she could. What made everything better was that her boyfriend Charles was their driver. It made the relationship easier since they were practically always together and who doesn't love being with their boyfriend? "So, what are we thinking of doing now?" Eduardo asked. Mattia let out a sigh as he watched two of his strategists working away. "Which one will secure a podium place?" he asked. Y/n scurried through her notes and handed Mattia a sheet. "This one. I think if we can make the tyres last for that little bit longer we can get that podium." Mattia nodded. "And mine with secure a top 5 finish." Eduardo said. Mattia looked at the two and nodded. "Okay, Charles can have the top 5 finish and Carlos can have the podium." Y/n and Eduardo nodded before Y/n collected her information and walking out to find the two drivers of the Scuderia.

Charles sat with Carlos playing chess. Both were quite good but they never really got which was better in all honesty. They were pretty matched but of course as drivers, one of them alway had to be better. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything boys." Y/n smiled. The pair looked up and waved at Y/n as she approached. "Ah hello mon cœur. Carlos Was just cheating at chess-"

"I was not! Stop lying to your girlfriend!" Carlos joked before moving his piece. "Whatever you say, she knows I would never lie to her." He took her hand in his and placed a soft kiss onto it, making Y/n blush lightly. "Okay mon cœur let's go talk about strategy." Charles beamed, throwing his arm around her shoulder. Y/n stepped back and shook her head when Charles looked at her funny. "Actually Charles, you have to go to Eduardo. I'm briefing Carlos today." Charles looked between the Spaniards and his girlfriend. "But you're always given the better strategy. Did you give it to Eduardo or?" Y/n let out a sigh. "Well Carlos performed better in qualifying and finished higher. We see a lot of potential for some big points tomorrow so we all agreed to give him the first strategy." Y/n smiled. Charles arched a brow at his girlfriend as she held a clip board in her hands. "You're really not giving me the other strategy?" he asked. "No, absolutely not. You've got a different one and you can go ask Eduardo for it. I've been sent to brief Carlos on his strategy."

"But, I want the good strategy. Surely there's a way I can get it." Y/n scoffed and stood her ground. "Your girlfriend is the strategist, it doesn't mean you get the best strategy." Y/n snapped. "But you love me." Charles said. "Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc, I don't care how much I love you, I've got a job to do and so do you so go to Eduardo and know your strategy." Charles clenched his jaw and looked at her in anger. "You can go take it up with Mattia if you have a problem." she smiled innocently, handing him the clip board and walking away with Carlos. Charles muttered curses in French to himself and began the walk of shame to Eduardo's office. "You sure know how to deal with him eh?" Carlos laughed. Y/n shrugged her shoulders and contojnued on walking. "Perks of us dating, you know?" Carlos laughed and the two walked to the hospitality.

The next morning, Charles and Y/n sat in the hotel before the team went out to the track. "Okay, I'm going to go and shower now." Y/n said as she tied her hair up. "Okay mon cœur. Then we'll go to the track, yes?" Charles asked, not looking up from his phone. "I love you." Y/n said sweetly. Charles looked up at her and smiled. "Love you too." before Y/n walked away into the bathroom for a shower. Charles quickly skimmed through her notes, hoping not to get caught and luckily he didn't. He sat there mesmerising as much as he could, hoping he could convince one of his other strategists to side with him and change the strategy. "Are you looking at my notes?" Y/n asked standing at the door, sopping wet.

Charles chucked the notepad over to the side and stood up to look at her. "No- that's not- erm-" Y/n walked by him, not even looking at him and took her notes and shoved them into her bag. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"So you accidentally opened my notes and read them all, yeah? What is wrong with you?!" she shouted. Charles was silenced. For once, he didn't have anything to say. "Why can't you just realise that I myself have a job to do? Are you that desperate to show everyone how great you have to be?" she yelled. "Mon cœur, please I didn't mean it. I promise."

"No Charles! They're going to think I'm incapable of doing my job now! You're so selfish sometimes!" she shouted throwing her red uniform on. "No they aren't. I'll just slip it in that I'd like to change it and then-"

"Then they're realise I let you look at my notebooks and stuff and then I won't be trusted to hold the information of the strategy again!" Charles knew he messed up. She'd never been this angry with him before so he must have done something bad for her to get this anggrivated with him. "Y/n-" She stopped him. "No, save it! I don't want to hear anything you have to say for the rest of the day!" and with that, she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out quickly with Charles following behind.

Charles watched as Y/n typed away at her computer with her headset on, taking notes as to what Mattia was saying he wanted in the pre race briefing. "So pit Carlos a lap earlier depending on the position of the car behind, yes?" she asked. Mattia nodded and there she went typing again. Charles smiled at her. She looked so effortlessly beautiful. He had never seen such perfection before in his entire li-

"Do you want to change your strategy at all Charles?" Mattia asked. Charles looked over to his girlfriend at Mattia's right. She looked disappointed, angry and upset all at the same time. Charles felt horrible. "No, I'm happy. As long as I can get good points I don't care." Y/n blinked a few times in disbelief as to what she was hearing. "Okay, briefing is finished. Let's get ready for the race." Mattia announced before everyone got up and began to leave. Charles left first, not looking back for Y/n. He didn't expect her to forgive him so quickly. What he did was out of pocket and just horrible. "Charles!" He looked back and saw Y/n jogging over towards him, a smile visible through her mask. "What are you smiling for?" he asked. She threw her arms around his neck and jumped up into his arms. Charles laughed and held her up. "Thank you." She whispered. "Anytime mon cœur. Now, shall we go and prepare for the race or stay like this?" He joked, letting her down. "Let's go do this thing." and so, the pair walked into the ferrari garage, hand in hand, ready for the task at hand.

[charles-leclerc-official]

random lore questions i would love to get clarification on, did charles actually get mattia fired/replaced by fred? also was lestappen gate actually real? like was there actually serious talks by redbull to try and get charles?

Oooh yes! Okay there is a lot here.

Did Charles actually get Mattia Binotto fired?

In my opinion yes. Now did Charles go to Ferrari and say "I want that man gone" No. However Binotto was fired for two reasons in my opinion. 1. incompetence in his management style at Ferrari 2. To keep Charles happy.

After Silverstone 22 supposedly Binotto had to fly to Monaco to talk to Charles to calm him down. Charles was PISSED with how that race was handled(rightly so, Binotto should pay for my therapy for making me watch that, it was harrowing)

I think that was the nail in the coffin as far as Binotto was concerned. He was fucking things up with their superior driver, and anyone with eyes could see it.

Ferrari is a brand that takes it's image very seriously. Under Binotto the team became a joke. Charles is a crucial part of the F1 Ferrari brand, the Tifosi worship him, Ferrari wasn't in a position to lose Charles.

So Charles isn't happy under Binotto's management, might walk away after his contract is up. Binotto is replaceable. Bye bye Binotto.

I am sure Charles probably made his feelings on the matter very clear to upper management at Ferrari.

I do not think Charles would have extended his Ferrari contract under Binotto's management. Ferrari had to promise a LOT of priority to keep him I think. And rightly so. The way he's made himself the face of Ferrari is very wise in terms of his negotiating power.

Was lestappen gate actually real?

Yes and no.

Yes I do think that Red Bull probably reached out to Charles(he's a top driver, his contract was going to be up at the same time as Checo's, it's a no brainer)

I think Charles played into it to negotiate better with Ferrari. (After seeing the contract renewal and Fred excessively hyping Charles up it's pretty clear Charles got what he wanted)

I think Red Bull was serious about wanting Charles, and Charles wanted to keep the option open in case Ferrari negotiations didn't go his way perfectly. After Binotto I am sure he was way more demanding about what he wanted from the team in terms of his career and pay.

I don't think Charles was as serious about Red Bull as many believed, but he's smart and not at least entertaining the idea, especially while renegotiating his contract would be stupid.

Charles is actually very smart when it comes to his career. He's all giggles and dimples for the cameras, but he's always coming out with what he wants with these things. He's made it very imperative to keep him happy at Ferrari.

Red Bull was very serious about it, and Charles was serious about getting the princess treatment at Ferrari. Fred showed him the five year plan, made it clear that Charles is going to inform the development of the car, paid him an unreal amount of money, and got him Lewis Hamilton. I think that Ferrari's future looks very promising under Fred, and clearly Charles agrees.

Obviously the fact that Max and Charles are friendly played into this. I am sure the fact that they are both competitive and get along well was very appealing to Red Bull when thinking about a driver line up.

Red Bull overdid it because they probably went "we are on the we love Charles arc in the press" and unfortunately for them Max is insane and just was like okay I can just hype Charles that's my job? BET and just did more of what he usually does but made it WORSE. And we love that for him.

I think the part that wasn't real was Charles being about to go to Red Bull, I am pretty sure Ferrari would have had to really fuck up to lose him in terms of their development. I don't think we were as close to lestappen teammates as we thought.

But everything was real I guess. Like Max cannot pretend to save his life so that's all authentic. And Red Bull did post about Charles and Max so much, like the Christmas tree?! And it was about Charles' contract. What wasn't real was the likelihood of Charles actually going to Red Bull. That was a slim chance at best. Charles played to his advantage on both sides and I think he got what he wanted.

Lestappengate was a case of contract shenanigans that led to a lot of entertainment.

So yes lestappen gate was real, but was Charles halfway out the door over to Red Bull during? No

[cherryrohan]

thth season 3 spoilers

the new app is out which means i've finally been able to dig into the game files. surprisingly, they've added all of the upcoming episode descriptions from the jump this time unlike last season.

please don't ask me for sprite assets bc the game doesn't run on the same engine as litg so it's pretty much impossible.

anyway, major episode and character spoilers are under the cut and if you share elsewhere please give credit!

Episode Descriptions

EP 4 - Hearts on Fire

You caught Jirayu and Carmen whispering secrets! Are they plotting something, or is it just a harmless conversation?

EP5 - Desperate Measures

Poppy seems very interested in your business. Will she back off, or is there about to be trouble on the horizon?

EP6 - Stolen Moments

Your suite stay gets interrupted by an uninvited guest. Can you enjoy your night, or is Bad Lana about to ruin it?

EP7 - Betrayal

Lana’s fed up with your horniness. Is her plan going to help you, or tempt you even more?

EP8 - Rules Begone!

The secret is out — Poppy is a Spy! Suddenly, her behavior makes perfect sense… but can she be forgiven?

EP9 - The Love’s Gambit

Giselle is eliminating Sean! Is the drama over, or are there more surprises?

EP10 - Paradise Exile

You’re being banished! Are you about to leave the retreat for good… or does Lana have something else planned for you?

EP11 - Second Chances

You’re back from the Banishment Room, and everyone is excited to greet you! Well… almost everyone.

EP12 - A Lovers’ Goodbye

Carmen and Jirayu have been keeping secrets, but what was their motive?

EP13 - Unexpected Turnabout

Victoria’s announcement shakes things up. Are you prepared to handle what comes next?

EP14 - Secret Confessions

Can you save Giselle on time, or has this retreat taken a turn for the worst?

EP15 - Until We Meet Again…

It's your final night at the retreat, and Lana is ready to announce the finalists. Who will walk away richer, in both money and love?

Love Interests

Beatriz, 22 from Brazil

In a world full of followers, Beatriz is a shining star. Her spontaneous spirit craves fun, adventure… and a partner who can keep up with her rhythm. Even if you stumble, she’ll be there to catch you in her warm embrace.

Carmen, 23 from Puerto Rico

Fiercely independent and ambitious, Carmen is a seductive force that turns heads and breaks hearts. Her outgoing nature and irresistible charm are as captivating as her art. This bold soul can't be easily tamed, and only the bravest would even dare to try…

Isla, 25 from Canada

Independent, authentic, and a joy to be around, Isla is ready to find love that's as lasting as her carpentry projects. Her magnetic personality will draw you in, but her playfulness and kindness will make you stay. Her guide dog Bear is ready to make a new friend as well!

Jirayu, 24 from USA

If you like fun facts, you’re in luck - Jirayu never runs out of them! Sharp-minded and well-read, he’s always ready to engage in stimulating banter. Although he’d never admit that, this pilot finds navigating relationships harder than the skies…

Mattias, 25 from USA

Confident yet caring, Mattias is the guy who will always have your back - and while he loves the game, he’s more into baking than playing the field. If you date him, you’ll become his biggest flex… even though being an NFL Quarterback is a close second!

Taz, 26 from Germany

Taz is a chef with a sharp tongue but a tender heart. Assertive both in the kitchen and the bedroom, he always exceeds the highest expectations. Once you peel away his layers, he might trust you with his heart… and even some of his secret recipes!

Zayn, 28 from USA

Zayn has taken some time off to heal his broken heart, and he’s ready to tackle dating again. Trustworthy and kind, he's a catch who promises cozy nights in and fun gaming sessions. Now if only he could use cheat codes in his dating life…

Friends

Giselle, 26 from France

A foodie with a creative flair, Giselle is beloved in all of her circles. Her ability to find joy in simple things is unmatched. She might not be a problem solver, but she’ll definitely be your biggest cheerleader.

Julian, 28 from Canada

Julian’s a musician who’s looking for someone to tune in to his beat. Practical and down to earth, he knows just what to say to break the tension… and it’s usually a joke that’s going to leave you in stitches!

Victoria, 27 from UK

An accountant by day, an activist by heart, and a rule breaker by nature, Victoria is on a mission - and she’s not about to let anyone stand in her way. She thrives on her own, but if you’re able to meet her at the top, she might just let you in on the view…

Sean, 23 from Ireland

Sean sees his receptionist title as merely a stepping stone to greatness, using his charm and fit body to get what he wants. Although he seems outgoing and talkative, he’s not the biggest team player - and he seems to value his dog more than his partners…

Friends to Love Interests

(these characters start off as friends but can be romanced at some point later in the game similar to santiago)

Avi, 23 from Ireland

Avi mastered the game of love just like he mastered chess, always staying three moves ahead. With a charm that disarms even the toughest exterior, he is the perfect partner in crime… unless he’s too busy solving one!

Poppy, 25 from UK

Poppy sizes everyone up the minute she enters the room. Flirty yet fiercely clever, she’s not just playing the field - she’s redesigning it. Behind her architectural brilliance and smirks lies a gentle, yet elusive heart… but do you dare capture it?