#and after Charles is left devastated AGAIN
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formulafanfics13 · 1 day ago
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Look at Me When You Break - CL16 🔥
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Masterlist
Summary: After seeing suspicious photos from the paddock, she struggles with insecurity, but Charles gently reassures her — not just with words, but with slow, intense, emotionally-charged sex that leaves no room for doubt.
Warnings: Explicit smut, emotional intensity, possessive reassurance, light orgasm control, praise kink, eye contact kink, deeply intimate partner sex, slow and intentional dominance, crying during sex, emotional vulnerability, creampie.
She barely said a word in the car. Charles noticed the second they left the paddock, the tight silence, the way she picked at her nails, the fake smile she gave when he asked if she was hungry. He didn't press her. Didn't speak. Not until they were inside his Monaco flat, the door shut, her shoes off, and she turned to walk straight past him like nothing was wrong.
"Hey," he said gently, hand catching her wrist. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow. "Try again."
She shook her head. "I'm just tired."
He studied her for a long moment. Then, quietly, "You saw the photos, didn't you?"
She swallowed.
"The girl in the red dress?" he added. "Grid hospitality?"
She didn't respond. He stepped closer. "She leaned into me," he said. "I didn't touch her."
"I know," she whispered.
He cupped her jaw. "But you don't believe it."
Her eyes glistened.
"Baby."
"I just-" her voice cracked. "It's hard. Sometimes."
Charles exhaled softly. Then kissed her forehead. Her cheek. Her lips. And whispered, "Let me fix it."
He didn't rush. He never did. Charles knew what she needed, and it wasn't just fucking. It was reassurance. And he gave it with every touch.
He undressed her slowly, hands sliding under her shirt, lifting it over her head, kissing the skin as it was exposed. Her bra. Her jeans. Her underwear. Until she was bare in front of him. Then he sat on the edge of the bed. "Come here."
She moved between his knees. Charles kissed her stomach. Then lifted her onto his lap, one arm around her waist, the other hand tilting her chin.
"You're mine," he murmured. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
"And I'm yours."
He kissed her once more. Then leaned her back onto the mattress, climbed over her, and slid in with one slow, deep thrust.
She gasped. Charles didn't move. Just held her there, deep and full and still. "Look at me."
She did.
"I'm not touching anyone else."
"I know-"
"No," he said, voice firmer. "Say it."
"I know you're not."
"You're the only one I want to be inside."
She moaned, eyes fluttering.
"And you're the only one who makes me lose control."
He started to move. Slow. Heavy. Each thrust was devastating, deep, unhurried, so fucking full.
"Open your eyes," he whispered. She hadn't even realised she'd shut them. "Watch me," he said. "Watch the way I fuck you."
She obeyed. And saw it. His expression, soft but wrecked. His breath, ragged. His eyes, on her like she was the only girl in the fucking world.
"You think any of them make me feel like this?" he asked, voice low, hips rolling deeper.
"No," she gasped.
"Damn right they don't."
His pace didn't quicken. Just deepened. She could feel it in her fucking soul. The slow grind of his hips, the warmth of his hand on her chest, the way he kissed her jaw every time she moaned his name.
"You close?"
"Yes-fuck-Charles, yes-"
He stopped moving. She whined. "Not yet," he whispered. "You come when I say."
Her hands gripped the sheets. "Please-"
He rolled his hips once, just to make her cry out. "I said not yet."
She was sobbing by the time he let her start again. Legs trembling. Lips parted. One hand wrapped around his wrist where he held her face still, forced her to look at him.
"You're gonna come now," he whispered, voice soft like prayer. "And when you do, I want to see you fall apart. I want to see you believe me."
She nodded. Tears falling.
"Good girl." And then he fucked her. Just a little faster. Still deep. Still slow. Still so intentional it felt like she'd never come back from it. Her breath caught.
"Let go," he said.
And she did. Came with a sob, full-body, breaking open, coming around him, hands shaking, voice cracked. He kissed her through it. Didn't stop. Kept whispering, "That's it, baby. Let me see you. Let me feel you."
And then he came, with a gasp, buried as deep as he could go, moaning her name into her mouth. They stayed like that. Sweaty. Shaking. Still joined. Until she whispered, "I'm sorry."
And he said, "Don't be." Because this wasn't about punishment. It was reminding. It was claiming. It was love, in every filthy, slow, emotional thrust.
And when they fell asleep? She wasn't crying anymore. Because she knew. She was his.
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bwoahtastic · 2 days ago
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pack pup Max: dont think about the angst Max has after 2021 after winning his first championship
but he reads all the comments online how he "stole" it from Lewis. and he doesnt get a text from the pack to come to the pack room but when he goes to the room
he hears the pack comforting Lewis, when he tries to come in he hears the cold voice of Seb "now is not a good time Max please leave"
Oh plss!! Wolfie Max fitting so much better with the pack now but he still gets hesitant, feels unwanted at times.
But surely when he wins his first championship, they will be happy for him?? But then they don't text him which makes Max feel queasy, but he still goes to the pack room! But then seb tells him its not a good time now and Max is hit with a strong hit of Lewis's devastated scent and all the other pack members smelling so worried and he feels so left out...
Max making a little pigeon nest again,something which he had had to do less and less which just makes it hurt more this time!
Maybe charles comes to find him though? Little Alpha and Max have been orbiting around each other foenyears now and they aren't courting but the feelings are there! Charles just holding Max as best he can and fluffing up the nest more as Max cries in his arms 😭
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gerec · 9 months ago
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Summary:
Logan clenches his jaw. He takes one last drag of his cigar, and Charles watches nervously, his heart beating rampantly in his chest, anticipating rejection.
Please don’t say no. Please don’t say no. Please don’t say no. Logan slowly blows the smoke out of his mouth, the cloud trickling out and down, dissipating just before it can reach Charles’ face.
He shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes.
“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Magneto.”
Or, after Erik leaves him, again, Charles just needs to feel something. Logan can help.
--------
GUYS GUYS GUYS if you're an Xavierine fan (and Cherik) you need to drop everything and read this fic IMMEDIATELY it is AMAZING I literally cannot rec it hard enough! Here's the comment I just left for OP and I think it says it all: "Please excuse my language here but every word of this story from beginning to end is fucking fantastic wow!!! You've hit their respective characterizations in the bullseye, not to mention their interaction (specifically that strange, out of time push / pull of 70s Charles and back in time from the future Logan) is absolute chef's kiss. Everything about Charles' despair and longing and devastation over Erik was palpable and this exchange:
“They were more like whimpers. Sounded like he was beating you.”
“What’s the difference with him?” Charles laughs bitterly. His eyebrows pinch. “It’s all the same. He could kiss me and it’d still hurt the same as if he punched me.”
My heart and Logan's broke for Charles at the same time god. And that particular dynamic of Logan wanting to care for and take care of Charles, and Charles being so needy and grateful and bewildered by Logan's devotion and respect (and lust) - it's all so intoxicating and addictive for them and for the reader. Truly, not only am I thrilled to see new fic for one of my favorite pairings, but to have a story so well crafted and well written is a goddamn delight. Thank you kindly for sharing it!!!"
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rawrfrferrari · 26 days ago
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The One Who Left | CL16
Plot: Y/n is Charles' ex but their families have been friends since even before they were born. Arthur is attached to Y/n like a brother and is not happy with his brother and his new girlfriend. After a few family events Y/n couldn't bear the uneasy atmosphere with the new couple and the hate by Charles fans, so she distances herself from them and finds herself a new man who treats her right.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x ex!reader
Type: Angst, SMAU.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
[Request and Taglist] [Masterlist]
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BACKSTORY
Y/N lives in London, working as a Brand Consultant. Y/N and Charles dated for nearly 6 years. They broke up 5 months ago for vague, “mutual but painful” reasons, mostly due to them not being able to handle long distance and Charles feeling emotionally unavailable. Charles started dating Alexandra a month later. Pascale and Y/N’s mom were also childhood bestfriends. Which is why the three brothers grew up with Y/N. Arthur has always seen her as his elder sister, was devastated after the breakup. He never really forgave Charles for “letting her go.”
Arthur’s birthday dinner was held at a private cliffside restaurant just off the port of Monaco.
Y/N arrived with her parents, her mother’s arm looped through hers and her father trailing slightly behind, greeting the host like an old friend.
“Ah, finally!” Pascale stood up the moment she saw them, her eyes lighting up like the birthday candles yet to be lit. She enveloped Y/N’s mom in a hug before pulling Y/N into a familiar embrace. “Tu es magnifique, ma chérie,” she whispered warmly, the scent of her signature perfume clinging to the air.
Charlotte , Lorenzo's girlfriend kissed Y/N’s cheek and took a glass of wine from the server for her. “You look so thin. London hasn't been treating you well, mon ami,” she said softly, though her eyes flickered with something that looked a lot like sympathy.
But it was Arthur who broke into a full grin, rising from his chair before anyone else had even registered their arrival properly. “Took you long enough!” he said, weaving past waiters and the elegantly dressed diners to get to her.
Y/N laughed as he pulled her into a quick, tight hug. “You said seven-thirty. We’re here at seven-twenty.”
“Exactly,” he said, pulling back and nudging her playfully toward the family table. “Still late by my standards.”
He was beaming, the way only someone young enough to still love birthdays could beam. And she, despite every buried emotion twisting in her stomach, smiled right back.
He led her to the long, white-clothed table where everyone was already seated. Lorenzo gave her a polite nod; Charlotte smiled again. Pascale reached for her hand as she passed.
And then her gaze fell on him. Charles sat at the far end, dressed in a navy-blue velvet jacket with the first few buttons undone. He was mid-sentence, saying something to Lorenzo, but his words faltered as their eyes met.
Y/N blinked. He looked away.His new girlfriend, sitting beside him in a cream halter dress, leaned toward him and said something low. He nodded, too quickly, reaching for the wine glass in front of him without meeting anyone's eyes.
Arthur pulled out the seat beside his, gesturing for Y/N to sit. “The favourite should always be next to the birthday boy”
“I feel honored,” she replied, taking her place. Her mother slid into the seat next to Pascale, already lost in conversation.
Dinner began with toasts and laughter. The servers moved smoothly, bringing out course after course. Arthur, though, barely touched his food.
When it came time for presents, he turned to Y/N with the excitement of someone who already knew she’d outdone everyone else.
“Okay. Yours first,” he said, eyes gleaming.
Y/N hesitated only a second before reaching into her bag and pulling out a slim, matte black, box tied with a dark silver ribbon. She slid it across the table to him, silently.
He tore the ribbon off with zero elegance. The lid lifted, and there it was.
A Patek Philippe watch. Limited edition. Midnight blue dial. Platinum finish. Behind it was engraved; 'Je resterai à tes côtés, mon petit frère'
“Holy sh—” he blinked hard, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”
Arthur laughed, slipping the watch onto his wrist. It gleamed under the soft golden lights.
Charles looked over then, his gaze lingering on the timepiece. He said nothing.
“There’s something else,” Y/N added, lifting a second, heavier box.
Arthur looked confused until he opened it. Inside was a large, leather-bound photo album, its cover engraved with A.L. in silver.
The room quieted as he began to flip through the pages. Childhood photos. Karting trophies. Stick-figure drawings titled "Me, Char, Y/N." Birthday cakes. Family holidays. Y/N’s school graduation with him photobombing in a suit two sizes too big. Hervé and toddler Arthur and Charles in the garage, grinning with grease-stained fingers. Handwritten notes from when Arthur had panic attacks before races. Doodles, ticket stubs, and years of layered, intertwined lives.
One photo of Arthur sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Herve, with Y/N squished between them made him pause. His fingers trembled slightly.
He didn’t say anything. He just shut the book, stood up, and pulled Y/N to her feet with him.
“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said quietly, arms wrapping around her. “Ever.”
Pascale dabbed her eyes with a linen napkin, as she observed each photo with him. Even Lorenzo looked down at the table, hiding a soft smile.
From across the table, Charles watched. His jaw ticked. He hadn’t touched his dessert.
When Arthur sat down, he immediately turned to show the watch to Lorenzo. Charles leaned back in his chair slightly, forcing a small, tight smile.
Alexandra touched his hand under the table and whispered something, trying to pull him back into her orbit. He nodded once, distracted.
Dinner went on. And still, Y/N and Charles didn’t speak.
At one point, Y/N's father was telling Charlotte a story about an old vineyard trip they all took together years ago. Pascale was laughing so hard she leaned into Y/N’s mother’s shoulder. The adults looked like they belonged to a time before this fracture.
Arthur remained glued to Y/N’s side. He nudged her plate closer when she left it half-finished. Poured her more water.
At one point, he leaned in and murmured, “Don’t let the them bother you. You’re family. No one can change that.”
Y/N smiled faintly. “You’re too sentimental for your own good, Art." He rolled his eyes, bumping her shoulder with his.
Meanwhile, Charles sipped his wine, responding with tight nods when Alexandra spoke. He laughed at Lorenzo’s jokes, a half-beat too late.
He didn’t look at Y/N directly. But he felt a familiar ache he couldn’t remove, no matter how well he masked it.
And she smiled when spoken to. She laughed when she needed to. But she never looked toward the end of the table again.
Lorenzo leaned slightly over the table to speak to Y/N, “So,” he said, gesturing with his glass, “how long are you in Monaco this time?”
Y/N looked up from her plate, her fork paused mid-air. “Just three more days,” she said, setting it down gently. “I have to fly to Budapest for a client meeting on Friday.”
“Work?” Pascale asked, leaning in with interest.
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, a brand alignment workshop with a biotech company expanding into Central Europe. It’s part of a longer campaign we’ve been working on since spring.”
Lorenzo raised his brows. “Consulting must keep you on the move.”
“It does,” Y/N said with a soft chuckle. “I’ve gotten really good at packing light and sprinting through security.”
Before anyone else could speak, her mother chimed in fondly, “But she’ll be back for Christmas.”
“Of course,” Y/N added with a small smile toward Pascale. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Pascale’s expression softened. “Good. I would've been really upset with you if you worked on holidays. We don't get to see you much anyways.”
They all laughed, but across the table, Charles had gone still again.
His hand curled loosely around his wine glass, and though he didn’t say anything, there was something cold behind his eyes which made Y/n shift in her place uncomfortably.
arthur_leclerc
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arthur_leclerc 23 with the bests
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charles_leclerc Happy birthday, petit frère 🎂 (Even if you’ve started dressing better than me now)
lorenzotl Happy birthday, champ 🖤
charlottedepietro You’ll always be my favorite Leclerc (don’t tell the others). Happy birthday!!
yourusername Happy birthday, mon cherie. Love you, Artie 🤍
alexandrasaintmleux Happy birthday Arthur! Such a lovely evening 😊
pascale_leclerc Mon trésor. Papa would’ve been so proud today. Joyeux anniversaire 💫
leclerc.moments Why is Y/N still there? Alex must've got so uncomfortable. SMH.
→leclercupdates The Leclerc brothers and Y/n grew up together so its valid for Arthur to invite her. So happy that the breakup and Charles' actions doesnt affect her relationship with the rest of them ❤️
juliaaa_16 Y/N still looks like family idc 🥹
camiferrari The Leclerc genes 🤌🏽
monacogossipblog Where is Alexandra?? He posted Charlotte but not her. On top he also posted Y/N.
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Y/N walked out of the arrival gates at Nice Côte d’Azur airport, dragging her suitcase behind her and tugging her scarf a little tighter. Her flight had landed a bit early, which was a miracle in itself. She scanned the small crowd of drivers and family members waiting outside the barrier.
And then she saw A hand-written sign in thick black marker on torn cardboard:
“CEO of Emotional Damage — Miss Y/N”
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Arthur stood behind it, with a massive grin on his face.
She raised a brow. “You’re actually the worst.”
“Bonjour to you too,” he said, tucking the sign under one arm and opening his arms. “Now give me a hug, woman. I drove thirty minutes for this.”
She let him pull her into a strong hug. “I was going to take a cab,” she said when they broke apart.
“Yeah, and pay triple for a silent driver when you could get my award-winning company for free?” Arthur grabbed her suitcase and started walking toward the parking lot without waiting for an answer. “Let’s go. You’ve been missed.”
“So,” he said once they hit the highway, “I waited exactly seven minutes to give you the gossip. You should be proud.”
“Wow. Personal growth,” she deadpanned. “Go on.”
“Camille broke up with Tim. Again.” They were Y/n school friends who were together since grade ninth.
Y/N raised a brow. “I thought they were engaged?”
“Yeah.Not anymore. He’s already back on Raya.”
She snorted. “Typical.”
“Also Camille and Adrian were seen at that hotel in Verbier.” Adrien was an acquaintance through Tim.
“How do you know all of this?”
“I’m chronically online. It’s a disease.” They both laughed. The wind through the half-cracked window lifted a bit of her hair as the coastline blurred by.
“Oh,” he added, throwing a quick glance her way. “And I have decided to make it official with Jade."
"That's great Arthur, but I feel it's too early since you and Carla broke up a few months ago. It wouldn't look good on you in public perspective. Maybe wait till the next season starts?"
Arthur nodded and said he'll discuss it with Jade. He knew he should take her advice since she went through worse because of her brother and probably had also thought about Clara but didn't mention.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Monaco, dusk had settled. Streetlights flickered on, casting golden glows over stone buildings and quiet sidewalks.
Arthur turned down the familiar road to Y/N’s house. “You sure you don’t wanna come up to our house first?”
“Tempting,” she said dryly. “But I need a shower, and a solid hour of silence before I enter that arena.”
He pulled up outside her place, engine humming low. “Fair. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for brunch.”
She leaned over and squeezed his hand once. “Thanks for the ride, Artie.”
“Anytime. I’ll have new tea by morning.” She kissed him on his cheek and went in her house with her luggage.
yourusername
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Y/N’s parents’ place had always been the Christmas house. While the two families spent their summers at Pascal's pool, This house brought the warmth during the winter holidays.
Y/N was pouring herself a glass of mulled wine Pascale made when Lorenzo and her dad walked in from the garage, lugging in the bare tree.
“Try not to break your back before dinner,” Your mother called from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a checked apron.
Y/N laughed, stepping aside to give them room. The same corner by the window had held every tree since she was a kid.
Minutes later, the front door opened again, Arthur and Charles came in, cardboard boxes in their arms, bits of tinsel already clinging to their sleeves.
“Where do you want to dump these?” Arthur asked.
Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Is that the box with our old ornaments? Where was it, we lost it years ago.”
“It was in the wooden cabinet with our mamas old vinyls,” Charles said, his tone dry. He didn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t look for them.
They placed the boxes on the floor. Moments later, Jade and Charlotte arrived, both carrying platters of casseroles from their place as Y/n's kitchen was preoccupied with the mothers baking cookies. Alexandra trailed in behind them, with a few gift bags in hand.
The living room filled quickly with chatter, the occasional squeal from Jade when Arthur teased her with a furry ornaments.
Charlotte and Lorenzo untangled lights near the window.
Arthur knelt by the tree, unwrapping the handmade decorations like they were museum pieces.
Y/N stuck close to Jade not hovering, just casually steering conversations her way, checking if she needed help with the drink setup, looping her in when family stories got too deep too fast. It wasn’t awkward. Jade was kind and easy to be around.
At the same time, Y/N kept herself moving, rearranging the pile of gifts, going back and forth from the kitchen to bring out bowls of icing for the cookie decorating.
Charles drifted in and out of her periphery. He stayed mostly beside Alexandra, who smiled and complimented every cookie shape like she was on a first date with the entire household.
Still, every so often, Y/N would feel a glance across the table, a pause when they both reached for the same red sprinkle tub, a beat too long when her laugh cut across the room.
Later, around the dining table-turned-cookie-lab, Y/N’s mom handed her a tray of sugar cookies shaped like stars and trees.
Arthur was beside Jade, pressing too much icing on a snowman and laughing like a five-year-old. Y/N leaned over to pass her a piping bag.
Charles, quiet at the other end of the table, was outlining a tree in neat green lines. Alexandra was scrolling through her phone beside him, scrolling absently.
Y/N looked up from her own cookie, their eyes meeting for a second. He gave a small smile.
She didn’t return it. Not out of coldness but because it didn’t feel necessary.
When the cookies were laid out, a chaotic masterpiece of colours and bad proportions, Charlotte laughed. “It looks like Santa threw up.”
“Hey, Don't be mean on Christmas!” Arthur declared.
“Wait,” Pascale said suddenly, wiping her hands. “Did anyone hang the tiny car from Herve’s keychain?”
Everyone paused. Y/N turned to the tree and found it still nestled at the bottom of the ornament box.
“I’ll do it,” she said quietly. No one objected. She walked over, picked it up, and found a place on a lower branch not too hidden.
Alexandra shifted closer to Jade seeming to pick the red piping bag from that side of the table but stayed next to her in Y/n's seat.
She had watched how Jade gravitated toward Y/N in conversations, how Charlotte laughed at something Y/N said and touched her arm like they’d been friends for years. And she, who was the actual girlfriend of The Charles Leclerc felt peripheral.
“Hey,” she said lightly, brushing invisible lint from her sleeve. “You okay? You’ve been stuck to Y/N all evening.”
Jade gave a quick smile. “Yeah, she’s cool. Easy to talk to.”
Alexandra nodded slowly, like agreeing with a lie. “Sure. I mean, I get it, she has history here. But sometimes… it’s a little much, right? Like, she makes herself the main character everywhere?.”
Jade’s hand froze mid-reach for the paper towel. “Um… I didn’t get that vibe.”
“She can be a bit performative,” Alex continued, sipping her wine. “Don’t let it get to you. Arthur has this saviour complex when it comes to her, always puts her first. It used to be endearing. Now it’s just exhausting.”
Jade’s eyebrows knit together. She offered a polite nod and muttered, “Thanks for the heads up,” before heading back into the living room where Arthur was placing the gifts from the trunk of his car.
“Alex just cornered me when Y/n was busy,” she said under her breath.
Arthur blinked. “Seriously?”
“She implied you’re overly attached to Y/N and said she’s always making herself the centre of attention.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched. Arthur didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stood up, casually looped an arm around Jade’s shoulders, and walked them both back into the centre of the room.
Everyone had already cleaned up the mess from the dining table and were settled in the living room.
“Jade, did I show you the cursed Christmas photo from 2008?” Arthur asked loudly.
Lorenzo grinned. “Oh God, the one where the three of you wore same ugly sweater?”
“Exactly.” Jade laughed and leaned in.
Alexandra, still at the edge of the room with Charles, caught the exchange. Arthur hadn’t even looked her way.
And for the rest of the evening, Alexandra was present, but not included.
Every time she tried to interject into a conversation, it shifted away. Every story was a callback she wasn’t a part of. Every inside joke was a thread she couldn’t follow.
“Alright, alright, before anyone falls asleep,” Arthur said, clapping once, “present time. And no fake enthusiasm this year, please. I’m looking at you, Enzo.”
“You got me socks last year,” Lorenzo deadpanned.
“You wear them all the time,” Charlotte shot back.
Y/N laughed, reaching under the tree to start handing gifts out. She had wrapped them herself, brown kraft paper with twine, little handwritten name tags and wax seals. The kind of aesthetic Pinterest would be proud of.
"Mon Cherie, When did you get the time to do all this." Y/n shrugged as she waited for Pascale to open her gift. It was a cashmere shawl in mint green with her initials in the corner.
She got Lorenzo & Charlotte a limited edition bottle of red wine from a small French vineyard where they’d vacationed the year before.
Arthur tore apart the gift paper to find a personalised perfume from Saudi.” Jade got the same but one with floral notes.
Y/n was also considerate of Alex and got her a box of chocolates from her latest trip to Switzerland. Alexandra smiled and said “Thanks,” before moving on to clinging her boyfriend even more tight.
Y/N handed out the last box, turning to Charles. “And for you.”
He looked surprised. It was a rectangular box, neatly wrapped, subtle, quiet. He opened it slowly.
Inside was a team signed as monaco jersey. Charles ran a thumb over the cover. He didn’t say anything at first. Just nodded. “Thanks.”
Alexandra passed Y/N a small envelope then. “From both of us,” she added. Her voice was light, like this was a business handoff.
Y/N opened it to find a gift card, an expensive one, but generic. Multi-brand. All luxury stores. She smiled politely. “Appreciate it.”
Arthur, standing behind the couch with a mug in hand, rolled his eyes at Alexandra and moved on to snatching it and replacing with his gift.
Him and jade had custom bracelets made for her, Y/n and Charlotte. Jade had given a separate gift to Alexandra, a boxed pair of gold stud earrings. She disappointed took it eyeing the new bracelet adoring Y/n's wrist.
But she smiled anyway and said, “That’s thoughtful,” before folding the wrapping neatly.
Y/n's dad had got each of them a Christmas themed ceramic mug and her mother had scarves custom made for each.
Later, as the wrapping paper lay crumpled on the floor and wine was being refilled, Arthur passed by Y/N with a satisfied look. “You crushed it,” he whispered.
Y/N shrugged. “I like giving presents.”
“No. I mean… the whole night.”
She nudged his shoulder. “Couldn’t have done it without you guys.”
yourusername
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yourusername
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yourusername joyeux noël🎄❤️
tagged: @/yourmomofficial, @/arthur_leclerc, @/pascale_leclerc, @/lorenzotl, @/charlottedepietro, @/jade_distinguinn
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pascale_leclerc Toujours la lumière de la maison ❤️ joyeux Noël, ma chérie! [Always the light of the house ❤️ Merry Christmas, my dear!]
→yourusername Joyeux Noël, maman Leclerc ❤️
carlossainz55 Feliz Navidad Cariño!
→yourusername Merry Christamas Carlitos 🫶🏽
softf1girlie Merry Christmas y/n❤️
arthur_leclerc Best day 💕
y/nangelarchive Not her posting and tagging everyone but Cheater and ad queen 😌
landonorris Do those cookies ship to the UK asking for a friend
→yourusername Nori I can bake you cookies when I get back 😭
yourmomofficial Belle soirée en famille. Que Dieu bénisse mes enfants et leur accorde tout le bonheur possible. [Beautiful evening with the family. May god bless my kids with all the happiness.]
→ yourusername Je t'aime maman❤️
→ charles_leclerc: Merci beaucoup ❤️ toujours reconnaissant d’avoir grandi entouré de tant d’amour. [Thank you so much ❤️ always grateful to have grown up surrounded by so much love.]
→ arthur_leclerc  Love you mama 2 🫶
→ pascale_leclerc Toujours un bonheur de voir nos familles réunies 🤍 [Always a joy to see our families together 🤍]
→ leclercfamupdates Y/n's mother is the sweetest. Even after what Charles did to her daughter, she wishes him the best because he's her son too 😭. Charles you seriously fucked up bad...
mluexupdates not her pretending like she still belongs lol
→ username1 THEYRE LITERALLY AT HER HOME!
softf1girlie lol Alex and Charles should be grateful she even invited them...
lewishamilton Merry Christmas ✨ I hope you're back in London for New Year!
→ yourusername Merry Christmas, Lew. I'll be home for the holidays. We can catch up when I'm back 🫶🏽
jade_distinguinn Thanks for making me feel so at home 🥹❤️
yourbestie Merry Christmas, Y/n/n 🫶🏽 Miss you 💗
→ yourusername Merry Christmas! Miss you too ❤️
alexstmbestie Homewrecking Slut!
leclercsdaily For the newbies and Alexandra fans who call Y/n names, They should know Charles has most probably cheated on Y/n with Alex, even if not jeopardised 24 years of friendship and 6 years of relationship for her. And Y/n is inviting them for christmas at HER HOME after all this only for the love she has for all the other Leclercs and Charlotte, She even made Jade feel at home. This explains a lot about her being a kind soul and Charles took advantage of this kindness and so does Alex now. Expecting her to separate from her family just because this guy fucked up is utter bullshit. Leave her alone goddamnit!!
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ynarchive
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Liked by leclercupdates, y/nangelmine and others
ynarchive Y/N was spotted at Ibiza Airport earlier today, sources confirm she flew out of Nice early this morning after spending Christmas with the Leclercs & her family in Monaco.
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ynangelclub honestly? protect your peace queen 🧘‍♀️
alexmlxupdates good. she doesn’t belong in Monaco anymore
→ leclercfamupdates dude stop she's literally born there.
leclercfamilyupdates Pascale already missing her we just know it
username1 This is what emotional maturity and boundaries look like
yln.ynlover she’s so real for escaping the drama!
username2 “she’s still close to the family” ok then why leave? 🙃
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[error: happy new year in advance, Artie. Kiss both mamas for me? - y/n]
yourusername
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Liked by lando.jpg, yourbestie and others
yourusername Happy 2024 and Happy Y/n 🪩🌊
tagged: @/carlossainz55, @/landonorris, @/yourbestie
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yourbestie You're the only one who upgraded. tbh
pascale_leclerc  joyeux nouvel an, mon étoile 💫
→ yourusername joyeux nouvel an, mon luna 🌕
carlossainz55 You are an alcohol menace...
→ yourusername Got reasons, mon cherie
→ carlossainz55 still?
→ yourusername Nah. Over it 😏
jade_distinguinn you are LITERALLY the moment
→ yourusername 💕
charleswife16 real homie hopper. ugly whore
lilymhe literal goddess vibes
→ yourusername Lilyyyy! Love u 🫶🏽
friend1 You dropped this 👑
→ yourusername oops 🤭
f1teaonline this squad > Y/n and Charles
username1 this is her I could’ve ruined you, but I chose peace post
landonorris  How did I end up being the least chaotic one on this yacht
teamalexmlx she really can’t sit still for a second huh. Attention seeking bitch.
sainz55fp Carlos stop looking at her like that... She's mine!
danielricciardo Ibiza huh? very proud!
→ yourusername Thank you Thank you
arthur_leclerc Take me with you next time...
→ yourusername Shore 👍🏻
friend2 I approve this version of you. She’s glowing.
→ yourusername 🫶🏽
y/nsupremacy the “Happy Y/N” era is going to heal me
charlexnation meanwhile Charles living his best life with Alexandra 🫶
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yourusername
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Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and others
yourusername 🪷🩷
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yourmomofficial Ma belle fille 🌷
alex_albon @/yourbestie do you know what I know.
→ yourbestie I know what you know, but I won’t say it unless you say it first 😇
→ yourusername Snitches ends up in ditches!
leclercxangel I think she’s with Arthur?? It makes sense.
→ f1gridgossip No one else is in Melbourne yet except Carlos, Oscar, Lando and Alex Albon.
charlexchild funny how she’s always “working” when he’s racing
pascale_leclerc 🌸❤️
ynupdatesdaily She didn’t even need a face pic and still ate
arthur_leclerc stay for the race?
→ yourusername Can't. I have work on Monday 😭
charlesluvclub Someone’s trying really hard to be relevant this season 💅
alexandrasaintmleux So aesthetic!✨
→ username1 eww go away
lilymhe Date tomorrow?
→ yourusername Sorry Lils, I have a flight early tomorrow ☹️
f1wagsgossip Charles in the likes and Alexandra commenting 💀
alexusuals OMG Alex commented. She's such a girl's girl 😍
→ ynupdatesdaily 😂 She's anything but that. haha
username2 melbourne museums never looked this cute.
f1
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Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and others
f1 🏆 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX PODIUM 🏆 1️⃣ 🇪🇸 Carlos Sainz 2️⃣ 🇲🇨 Charles Leclerc 3️⃣ 🇬🇧 Lando Norris
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scuderialover Ferrari on top and my serotonin is back
gridenergy That post-race smile from Sainz >>>
mclarencryingclub Honestly thought Lando had it… sigh
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taglist: @sarcastic-ravenpuff, @cryinghotmess, @dreaming-starlet, @agustdpeach, @yeslybanevi, @lovestruck-sky, @yara011, @nafisalove, @agustdpeach, @deleataecount, @janeh22, @mel164, @destinyg237, @esmeect, @saythename-sm, @ajordan2020, @ceekokocee15, @vinylphwoar, @paucubarsisimp, @flowersandalll, @mbioooo0000, @zoeyjadetice2010, @angstynasty, @sinfully-yoursss, @chlmtfilms, @san4117, @sachaa-ff, @kenkozkmg, @sagestach, @rawr-123s-stuff, @lemon-stvrrr, @whitlocklibrary, @nina481, , @angstynasty, @gigicisneros, @anunstablefangirl, @hawkins-2000, @jaydensluv, 
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crssvjb · 6 months ago
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Secrets Revealed - Charles Leclerc
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Sumarry: After a painful breakup, you discover you are pregnant, but keep the secret out of fear and hurt.
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The morning started like any other: a ray of sunlight streaming through the window, the distant sound of traffic and the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. But the pregnancy test in her hands changed everything.
Two lines.
You felt your heart race. It wasn't possible. He read the leaflet again, checked the test three more times, but the result did not change. You were pregnant with Charles.
She sat on the bathroom floor, her back against the cold wall. His mind went back to the last moment they had together, weeks ago.
—"You think you're always right!" — You shouted, your voice cracking under the weight of emotions.
Charles ran a hand through his hair, irritated. — "And you think everything has to be your way! I can't deal with this right now."
— "Can't handle this? Maybe you can't handle me, Charles."
The silence that followed was the most painful you had ever experienced. He looked away, hesitating. When he spoke again, his voice was a little cold:
— "Maybe we were never right for each other."
You swallowed hard, the words burning like acid. Without saying anything else, he picked up his things and left, leaving behind not only his home, but also everything they had built together.
The sound of your cell phone vibrating brought you back to the present. You looked at the screen and saw messages from friends. There was a party that night and everyone was excited to go together.
But how could you face Charles now? He would probably be there. And you... you didn't know if you would have the courage to face him with the secret you carried.
The party was in full swing when Charles arrived. Dressed casually, he greeted his friends but seemed a little distracted. Since the breakup, he had tried to convince himself that the separation was better for both of them, but a part of him knew that he had messed up.
- "Hey, Charles." — Pierre caught his attention, holding out a drink. — "How are things with Y/N?"
Charles frowned, uncomfortable with the message of his name. — "I think this is over, Pierre."
Pierre looked a little surprised. — "It's over? But... what about the baby?"
The glass in Charles' hand almost fell. — "What baby?"
Pierre widened his eyes, clearly realizing his mistake. — "Ah, shit... I thought you knew. Sorry, Charles. I wasn't supposed to... forget it."
Charles didn't wait for explanations. Dropping his drink on the first surface he found, he hurriedly left the party, ignoring Pierre's calls.
— "Pierre, you big mouth." — Kika said, slapping her boyfriend's arm.
The knock on the door was unexpected. You opened it and saw Charles panting, his eyes shining with a mix of surprise and nervousness.
— "Why didn't you tell me?" — He asked, almost whispering.
— "Charles, I..."
— "You're pregnant, aren't you?" — He interrupted, his eyes searching yours urgently.
You hesitated, but you knew you couldn't deny it. - "I am."
Charles took a deep breath, clearly trying to process. — "Why didn't you tell me? I had a right to know."
— "And I had the right to be afraid." — You replied with a trembling voice. — "After what you said, how could I trust you again? How could I believe you would stay by my side?"
He looked devastated. — "I was an idiot. I got angry and said things I shouldn't have. But I never wanted to hurt you. And now... now I know that I only made everything worse."
You looked away, tears streaming down your face. — "I don't know if I can forgive so quickly, Charles. I'm hurt and I need time."
He took a step forward, hesitant but determined. — "I understand. And I'll wait as long as it takes. But know that I'm here. For you. For the baby. For us."
His words were sincere, but you knew it wouldn't be easy. The road to rebuilding trust was long. But maybe there was a chance for you. Over time.
⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁵
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harrysfolklore · 4 months ago
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So since the Oscars are happening next week I wanted to ask if you could please write something about charles leclerc and actress!reader where she's been nominated many many times before but never won (kind of like saoirse ronan) but this time she finally breaks the curse and win her first Oscar and Charles being just proud husband
u know you can always count on me for a charles x famous!reader fic and honestly i loved this one 🥺 i hope you like ittt
The Dolby Theatre buzzes with anticipation as you sit between Charles and your co-star. This scene is familiar - the sixth time you've been nominated, the same butterfly-inducing wait during the Best Actress category. Your first nomination came when you were just twenty-three, and now at thirty, you've earned the title of 'most nominated actress without a win.'
Charles has been there for four of those nominations, watching you smile gracefully through each loss. You remember how devastated he was last year - more than you, even - when you lost for what critics had called 'the performance of the decade.' He'd held you all night, whispering about how the Academy didn't deserve you anyway.
Tonight, though, feels different. Maybe it's the way Charles keeps pressing soft kisses to your temple, or how he hasn't stopped playing with your wedding ring - a nervous habit he picked up during particularly tense races.
"Mon coeur," he whispers as the Best Actor category wraps up, "no matter what happens, you're already the winner in my eyes. But tonight... tonight feels like magic, no?"
You're gripping Charles's hand so tightly you might be cutting off his circulation, but he doesn't seem to mind. Your heart is pounding as Emma Stone opens the envelope on stage, the same way it has during the previous ceremonies where you'd left empty-handed despite the nominations.
Charles leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens," he whispers, his thumb stroking soothing circles on your hand.
"And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to..."
Charles's grip tightens imperceptibly. You feel him holding his breath alongside you.
"YN!"
For a moment, you're frozen. The applause sounds distant, like you're underwater. Then you feel Charles's hands on your face, see his beaming smile through your blur of tears.
"You did it, mon coeur!" he exclaims, his own eyes glistening as he pulls you into a kiss. "You finally did it!"
You're trembling as you stand, Charles helping you up. He's looking at you the way he does after winning a race - no, even more intensely than that. Like you've just won every championship in existence.
The walk to the stage feels surreal. You can hear the announcement echoing: "This is YN's sixth nomination and first win..." Through your tears, you see the standing ovation, catch glimpses of familiar faces who've been on this journey with you.
Your hands shake as you accept the Oscar, its weight both foreign and familiar after years of dreaming about this moment. You take a deep breath, looking out at the sea of faces until you find those green eyes that have been your anchor through every high and low.
"Wow," you begin, your voice trembling. "They say sixth time's the charm, right?" The audience laughs warmly. "I've had this speech written in my head since I was a little girl playing pretend with my mom's hairbrush, but now that I'm here, those words don't seem enough."
You pause, gathering yourself. "To the Academy - thank you for not giving up on me. To my incredible director who trusted me with this role that scared me as much as it thrilled me. To my amazing co-stars who pushed me to dig deeper, be braver."
Your eyes find Charles again, who's watching you with such pure adoration it makes your heart swell. "To my husband, who has sat through more award shows than F1 races this year so far, who runs lines with me even though he says my accent is better than his, who believes in me more than I believe in myself - ti amu. You've watched me practice acceptance speeches in our kitchen, held me through the disappointments, and somehow made me feel like a winner every single time. You told me once that in racing, it's not about how many times you don't make the podium, it's about never stopping until you do. Well, my love, we finally made it to the top step."
You can see Charles openly crying now, nodding proudly through his tears. "To my parents who let their little girl dream big, to my team who've been with me through every 'maybe next year,' to every young actor who's been told 'not yet' - keep going. Your time will come."
Looking down at the golden statue in your hands, you smile through your tears. "And finally, to every person who's ever felt like they're always the runner-up, who's heard 'better luck next time' so many times they've lost count - this is for you. Because sometimes the longest waitings lead to the sweetest victories. Thank you, thank you so much."
Later, at the Vanity Fair after-party, Charles hasn't let go of your Oscar once. He's been carrying it around, showing it off more proudly than any of his race trophies.
"My wife," he keeps saying to everyone who'll listen, his accent thick with emotion, "she's brilliant, no? I told everyone she would win. I knew it."
"Charles," you laugh, watching him polish the statue with his pocket square for the third time. "You're going to wear it out."
"Non, I'm protecting it. It's very precious." He looks at you with those soft green eyes. "Like you."
You lean into his side, feeling the familiar warmth of his arm around your waist. "You know what this means, right? Now we both have something gold to polish obsessively."
He chuckles, finally setting the Oscar down to pull you closer. "Oui, but unlike my trophies, this one was a long time coming." His expression softens. "You deserved this years ago, mon coeur."
"Well," you say, straightening his bowtie, "someone once told me that the sweetest victories are the ones you have to fight for."
"Sounds like a wise man," he grins.
"He's alright," you tease. "Bit of a show-off though. Keeps trying to steal my Oscar's spotlight."
Charles laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Never. Tonight is all yours, my love. Though..." he adds with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I might need to win another race soon. Can't have you being the only champion in the household."
You reach up to wipe a smudge of your lipstick from his cheek. "Race you to the next gold trophy?"
"Deal," he says softly, pulling you into a proper kiss. "But you've already won the most important race."
"Oh? Which one is that?"
His smile is tender as he touches his forehead to yours. "The race to my heart."
"That was terrible," you laugh, but you're already pulling him closer.
"Terrible but true," he murmurs against your lips. "Now, shall we go home? I need to practice my 'proud husband watching his wife's Oscar-winning performance' face for when we rewatch your movie for the hundredth time."
"You love that movie."
"I love you," he corrects.
And as you watch him carefully wrap your award in his suit jacket for the journey home, you think that maybe this victory is sweeter than you imagined - not because of the golden statue, but because of the golden heart beside you who never stopped believing it would happen.
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jungwnies · 7 months ago
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wreckage - charles leclerc (2/4)
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୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a devastating crash, you’re left to face the hardest decisions of your life as charles fights for his.
୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1448
part one | part two | part three | part four
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They say you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. But that doesn’t stop the crushing reality from setting in, from stealing the breath out of your lungs and leaving you with nothing but a pit in your stomach.
The adrenaline’s worn off now. The chaos of the crash—the sound of metal twisting, the screeching tires, the moment when everything went still—has settled into a steady, numbing dread. The pit in your stomach isn’t just from fear, it’s from the void where your thoughts should be. You don’t know what’s coming next. You’re not even sure if you’re prepared for it.
Charles isn’t here.
Charles isn’t in the room with you.
You glance at your phone again, eyes scanning for any update, any piece of news that tells you he’s okay. There’s nothing. Just the same cold silence. You dial his team again, and again, and again. But no one answers. His car was mangled—wrecked beyond recognition, but the worst part? The worst part is that no one can give you any real answers. No one can tell you if he’ll come back to you, or if that’s a question you should stop asking.
You feel like you're caught in a never-ending loop, the crash replaying over and over in your mind. Every time you hear his name on the news, every time you see another mention of the race, it stabs you like a fresh wound.
“Is there any word?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, though you’ve asked the question a hundred times already.
One of the nurses glances at you, but it’s not the answer you need. They’re all running on autopilot, no one daring to face the gravity of what’s happening.
A few hours later, you get the call. It’s brief, clinical, distant. They’re transferring him to the hospital for further tests, and you need to come now. You don’t even bother with a response. You just grab your coat, your purse, and run.
When you get to the hospital, you’re not prepared for what you’re about to see. You’ve spent all this time worrying about him, and now that you’re here, you don’t know how to be ready for the reality.
They rush you through sterile hallways, and the air feels thick, suffocating. The nurses are too quiet, too busy to offer reassurance. You don’t need their words. You need him.
The surgery’s been a blur. A series of technical terms, each more frightening than the last. Internal injuries. Organ failure. The adrenaline that was keeping him stable starts to wear off. Everything’s urgent, but no one tells you what’s going to happen. No one tells you that he might not make it through.
His mother arrives as you’re sitting in the waiting area, your fingers anxiously twisting the hem of your sleeve. She doesn’t need to say anything. You can see it in her eyes. She’s feeling the same crushing weight of uncertainty that you are. You stand, not knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything to say.
“How is he?” she asks, her voice cracking before the words are even out.
“They’re still working on him,” you answer, though you don’t know much. You don’t know anything. “They said it’s critical. I... I don’t know if he’s going to make it through.”
Her face falls, and she takes a deep breath. You want to say something, anything to reassure her, but you can’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore. The fear inside of you keeps growing, pressing against your ribs like a weight you can’t lift.
The door to the surgery room opens, and the doctor steps out. His face is pale, his expression tight.
“Is he...?” you ask, your voice trembling before the question even forms. You can’t bring yourself to finish it.
“He’s stable for now, but his condition is still critical,” the doctor explains. “We’re doing everything we can, but the next few hours are going to be crucial. The adrenaline kept his body from fully going into shock. It’s buying us time, but there’s a chance that time won’t be enough.”
You feel the ground slip away beneath you as his words sink in. “What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
“We’ll know more in a few hours, but we’re monitoring his organs. There’s significant internal damage.” He pauses, searching for something to say. Something comforting. “He’s a fighter. We’ll keep doing everything we can.”
You nod, though the words don’t mean anything to you. Fighters don’t always win. You know that. The only thing you can do is wait. But it feels like the waiting is the hardest part.
His mother looks at you, her eyes pleading, her lips trembling. “What do we do now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
You’re not prepared to make these decisions. You’re his wife, but you never thought you’d be here, making these life-or-death calls. This isn’t supposed to be your responsibility. You want to ask his mother what to do, but you can’t. She doesn’t have the answers. She’s just as lost as you are.
“I don’t know,” you whisper back, feeling the weight of it all settling on your shoulders.
She looks at you with a deep sadness in her eyes. “You’re his wife. It’s your decision now.”
Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You’re supposed to know. You’re supposed to know what he’d want, what the right choice is. But you don’t. How can you possibly know what to do when everything feels so out of control?
You want to run, want to disappear, but you can’t. Charles is still fighting. He’s still here, and that’s all you have. You can’t walk away from that.
As the hours drag on, you’re taken to see him. The room is sterile, cold. It’s not the hospital room you imagined. It’s nothing like that. It’s a place of quiet chaos, where everything hangs in the balance.
Charles is unconscious, tubes and wires running everywhere. His skin is pale, his face bruised. The doctors said he was conscious for a moment, but he’s out again, too weak to keep his eyes open.
You sit by his side, taking his hand gently, trying to feel his warmth through the coldness of the hospital room. You whisper his name, but there’s no response.
“He’s in there,” you tell yourself. You have to believe that. You can’t let go. Not yet.
Minutes pass, and still, nothing. His pulse steady on the monitor, but that’s the only sign that he’s still here. The rest of it is just a waiting game. You’ve been here before, waiting for someone you love to wake up, to come back to you, but it’s never been like this.
It’s never been this uncertain, this terrifying.
Charles is still here, but you know that might not be the case for long. The waiting is unbearable. Every beep of the heart monitor is both a reminder that he’s still alive and a warning that it could change at any moment.
As the nurse enters to check on him, you hold his hand tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe that this could be it.
“How long?” you ask her, barely able to look at the machines, not sure you want to know.
“It’s hard to say,” she replies softly. “He’s stable, but his condition is still critical. If we don’t see improvement soon, we might need to make... more decisions.”
That word. Decisions. What decisions? You’re left with nothing but the silence, the uncertainty. The questions. The waiting.
As the hours stretch on, and the doctor makes his rounds again, you finally hear the words you’ve been dreading. “There’s no improvement. We might need to consider...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you hear what he means. The fear inside you rises, a growing lump in your throat. The worst-case scenario is beginning to feel more real with each passing second.
Everything is slipping away, and you don’t know how to hold on.
You sit in the chair, staring at Charles, your mind racing with fear and doubt. You want to hope, you want to pray, but it feels like hope is a fragile thing, easily crushed by the weight of reality. The fight’s not over yet, but you’re starting to wonder if it ever will be.
“I’m here,” you whisper again, to him, to yourself. “I’m not going anywhere.”
But somewhere deep inside, you know. You know that the decision you’re dreading might be just around the corner, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
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taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , comment to be added
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
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fanfictionismyaddiction · 4 months ago
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Charles or Lewis x reader where reader comforts them after they were disqualified in the chinese prix? I feel so bad for them 😭😭
In the Wake of Shadows
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Word count: 551
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: After a devastating disqualification at the Chinese Grand Prix, Lewis Hamilton returns home, weighed down by disappointment.
________________________________________________________
The scent of home-cooked food filled the apartment, a warm contrast to the cold weight in Lewis’s chest. Y/N had been in the kitchen for hours, carefully preparing his favorite meal. She wanted everything to be perfect—not just the taste but the comfort it would bring.
When the door finally opened, she turned to see him standing there, his body heavy with exhaustion. His eyes were dull, his usual bright energy dimmed by the weight of the day.
“Hey, love,” she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked over to him.
Lewis barely managed a small smile, his shoulders slumping as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He exhaled a slow, shaky breath and buried his face into the crook of her neck. She felt the tension in his muscles, the quiet defeat in the way he clung to her just a second longer than usual.
“I made your favorite,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You probably didn’t eat properly today.”
Lewis let out a soft chuckle, though it lacked his usual lightness. “You always know what I need.”
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, you take care of everyone else. Someone’s gotta take care of you.”
Guiding him to the table, she watched as he took in the meal she’d prepared—every detail meant to comfort him. He sat down, exhaling slowly. “This looks amazing, baby.”
She sat beside him, resting her hand over his. “You know, I’ve been thinking about Sunday, and I get why you’re upset. It’s frustrating and unfair. But that wasn’t on you, Lew. You already showed everyone this weekend that you’re still the GOAT.”
He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I, though?”
She scoffed. “You won the sprint, Lewis. You drove that car to the top. It worked out last race because of you. Sundays mess? That’s on the team, not your ability.”
He stared at her for a moment, the words sinking in. She squeezed his hand. “One bad call doesn’t erase everything you’ve done. And it sure as hell doesn’t change the fact that you’re still one of the greatest to ever do this.”
For the first time all evening, his expression softened. He turned his hand over to lace his fingers through hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?”
She grinned. “No, but you’re stuck with me anyway.”
He chuckled, the sound finally carrying warmth again. “Thank God for that.”
She nudged his arm. “Now eat before I start spoon-feeding you.”
Lewis smirked. “You just want an excuse to baby me, don’t you?”
She winked. “You caught me.”
As he took his first bite, a quiet sigh of relief left his lips. The weight of the disqualification still lingered, but in that moment—with Y/N by his side—he felt just a little lighter.
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paddockletters · 10 months ago
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shattered hearts | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: you break free from a toxic relationship, embarking on an exhilarating journey of self-discovery
warning: emotional abuse, infidelity, toxic relationship, angst
author's note:this was hard, so hard omg... as I always say, english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀
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I met Lando when we were barely out of high school. Back then, he was just a kid with dreams and a mischievous smile that made you feel like you were the only one in the world that mattered. For a while, I believed that was true. But as the years went by, I learned that Lando's smile wasn’t mine alone—it was shared with others, stolen moments behind my back. And somehow, I was always the one left picking up the pieces.
Our relationship was a whirlwind, the couple everyone thought would either crash or last forever. We did crash—over and over again. But somehow, Lando always found a way to convince me to come back.
“I’m sorry,” he’d say, voice low and pleading after one of his inevitable affairs. “But you know you’re my number one, right? None of them matter like you do.”
He’d wrap his arms around me, pull me close, and somehow, I’d believe him. I had to because after eight years of being with him, I didn’t know who I was without him.
The first time he cheated, I was devastated. It was in his early F1 days, just as his fame started to sink in. He swore it was a one-time thing that it didn’t mean anything. And like a fool, I believed him. But it didn’t stop. It never stopped. There was always another girl, another excuse, another lie wrapped up in the promise that I was still the "main one."
One particular night, I remember the argument that nearly broke us for good. Lando had been out late, and I found out through a mutual friend that he had been seen with another girl. Again. When he came home, reeking of alcohol and guilt, I confronted him.
“You said you were going to change, Lando!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “You promised me, over and over again, but nothing ever changes!”
“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You always come back. You always forgive me,” he shot back, arms crossed, his face a mask of irritation.
His words stung like a slap to the face. I wanted to scream, to leave right then and there. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because a part of me still loved him, or maybe it was the idea of him—the boy I met before the fame, before the lies.
As the years rolled on, our friends saw the cracks. One night during a get-together at a bar, I tried to put on a brave face. I thought maybe if I acted normal, I could convince myself everything was fine. But when Jess pulled me aside, her expression serious, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore.
“Why do you keep letting him treat you like this?” she asked, frustration evident in her voice. “You deserve so much better, and he’s just going to keep doing this until you realize it.”
“Maybe he’ll change. I can’t just throw away eight years,” I replied defensively. “We have a history.”
“You mean a history of him cheating on you? You have to stop putting up with this, or you’re going to lose yourself,” she insisted, shaking her head.
I didn’t have an answer for her, not really. I just wanted to believe that things would get better. That Lando would see how much I cared and finally choose me over everyone else.
Our mutual friends began to pick sides. Some supported me, while others were loyal to Lando. It was suffocating, a constant tug-of-war that made everything feel so much worse. I felt more isolated than ever, even when surrounded by people.
Then there was the jealousy. Lando was incredibly possessive, especially with his fellow drivers. During one race weekend, I was talking to Charles, who had just finished his session. Lando walked in, and his eyes darkened.
“Why are you always chatting up the other drivers?” he snapped, pulling me aside as Charles walked away, giving us a questioning look.
“Because they’re my friends, Lando! Just because you’re in F1 doesn’t mean I can’t talk to anyone else. You’re not my warden,” I shot back, feeling the anger rise in my chest.
“Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You know how it looks,” he hissed, jaw clenched, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
I knew he was being unreasonable, but I was too exhausted to fight back. Our friends watched the tension build, hoping to intervene. I overheard Max once whisper to Lando.
“You need to chill, mate. You’re pushing her away.”
But Lando always had an excuse for everything, often deflecting blame onto me.
“You just don’t understand how this world works!” he’d shout, leaving me feeling small and defeated.
The cycle continued, and I found myself in the same painful arguments over and over. One night, after he came home late from a party, I had finally reached my breaking point.
“Do you even care about how I feel?” I shouted, my voice echoing through our apartment. “You’re always out with other girls! How am I supposed to trust you?”
“I told you, you’re the main one! None of them matter!” he retorted, but his words felt hollow to me.
We spent that night in silence, and I knew I had to make a decision. I just didn’t know how to let go.
The more time passed, the more I began to distance myself from Lando. Therapy helped. I began to see the truth behind his words and actions. The way he manipulated me, made me feel guilty for his mistakes. The way he made it seem like I was the one at fault for staying, like I was to blame for the pain he caused me.
During one therapy session, I shared my frustrations.
“I don’t know why I keep coming back to him. He’s hurt me so many times, and I just can’t let go.”
The therapist asked me one simple question: “Do you love him, or are you just scared of being without him?”
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t know the answer.
One evening after another brutal fight, I finally left. For good this time. I packed my bags while he watched, silent for once. Maybe he thought I’d come back, just like I always did. But this time was different. I walked out the door, leaving behind eight years of memories, both good and bad.
The nights were long and lonely, and I often found myself thinking about the happy moments we had. One flashback struck me particularly hard: it was the first time he had taken me to the paddock during a race weekend, and we laughed like kids as he showed me around.
“Can you believe this is my life now?” he had said, beaming with pride. “I never would have thought I’d be racing in F1.”
“I always knew you could do it,” I replied, squeezing his hand.
But now, those memories felt tainted, and I needed to focus on myself. It wasn’t easy. There were nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I had made the right decision. But with time, and with the help of my therapist, I started to heal. I began to see that I deserved better, that I deserved someone who would love me the way I had always wanted Lando to.
One evening, after finally leaving Lando for good, I found myself at a racing event with friends. It was a chance to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions I was navigating. As I wandered through the paddock, I was drawn to the sound of laughter.
“Are you lost, or just overwhelmed by all this?” a smooth voice asked. I turned to see Pato O'Ward, the charming IndyCar driver, grinning at me. His eyes sparkled with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a flicker of something hopeful.
“I guess a little bit of both,” I replied, smiling back.
“Come on, I’ll show you around,” he offered, his energy contagious. As we walked through the paddock, he shared stories about his racing experiences and the thrill of competing. It felt so refreshing to be around someone who was passionate and genuine, without the weight of expectations or drama.
Days turned into weeks, and I found myself spending more time with Pato. He was everything I had needed—funny, respectful, and utterly devoted. He listened to me, understood my past, and never once made me feel like I was in a competition for his attention.
One night, after a thrilling race, he took me to a quiet spot overlooking the track. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about how important it is to find someone who truly sees you. I see you, and I want to be that person.”
His words resonated deep within me, filling the void Lando had left. In that moment, I knew I had found something special with Pato, something I had longed for but never thought I could have.
Meanwhile, Lando had his own set of problems. He was still juggling relationships, using his charm to keep people around while juggling jealousy over his fellow drivers. I heard from our mutual friends that he was still stuck in the same toxic patterns, always in and out of relationships, always claiming that I was the one who got away.
I remember a race weekend when Charles and Lando got into an argument. I was watching from the sidelines with Pato when Charles approached me, concern etched on his face.
“Are you okay? I know things with Lando have been… complicated,” he said, his gaze shifting to Lando, who was across the paddock, still fuming.
“I’m fine, really. I’ve moved on,” I assured him, but I could see the doubt in his eyes.
Later that evening, I got a message from Lando, who had obviously overheard the chatter.
“I know you’re happy with him, but you’re still mine. You always come back to me, remember?”
It took everything in me not to respond. I had a new life now, a new partner who respected me and didn’t cheat. Lando’s words were just echoes of the past.
Fast forward to our wedding day. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, my heart racing with excitement. Pato had become my rock, my partner in every sense of the word. I knew this was the right choice, and my heart was finally at peace.
Then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Lando.
“I heard you’re getting married. Just wanted to say, I hope you’re happy. But I still think about you. We could’ve had it all, you know.”
I stared at the message, my heart pounding. For a moment, I considered replying. But then I remembered all the sleepless nights, the tears, the heartbreak, and all the promises he had broken.
“Too late,” I typed back, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.
As I walked down the aisle, Pato’s face lit up with joy, and I couldn’t help but smile back. When he took my hands in his, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t known in years.
The ceremony was beautiful, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t felt in years. When Pato took my hands in his, I knew I was finally moving forward.
As we exchanged vows, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of my mind, but I let it go.
“I promise to love you through every challenge and to celebrate every victory,” he said, his eyes shining with sincerity.
“I promise to choose you every day for the rest of my life,” I replied, my voice steady and full of conviction.
We sealed our vows with a kiss, and I felt liberated. Lando was no longer my story; I was the author of my own life now, and it was a beautiful beginning with Pato. With him by my side, I was ready to embrace the future we would build together, thriving in a relationship based on trust, respect, and love.
As time passed, I learned to appreciate the small moments—the laughter, the late-night talks, the shared dreams of a future together. Pato supported my passions and encouraged me to pursue my own ambitions, something I had never fully experienced before.
One day, I received a message from Max: “Lando’s been a mess since your wedding. He didn’t handle it well.”
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. He had always taken me for granted, and now, he was the one left behind.
I hoped Lando would find peace eventually, but I also knew I couldn’t go back to the pain of our past. Pato was everything I needed, and I was determined to focus on our life together.
As our first anniversary approached, Pato planned a surprise getaway. “I want to celebrate us, everything we’ve built,” he said, a bright smile on his face.
We traveled to a beautiful beach destination, where we spent our days relaxing, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. One night, under a sky full of stars, Pato took my hand and said, “You’ve changed my life for the better. I want to keep building this amazing life with you.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears. “You’ve shown me what real love looks like, Pato. I’m so grateful for you.”
His expression softened as he leaned in, kissing me gently.
Then, one day, I got a call from Lando.
“Can we talk?” he asked, voice shaky.
“What do you want, Lando?” I replied, my heart racing.
“I just need to explain… things didn’t go as planned after you left. I’ve made mistakes, and I want you back.”
I paused, memories flooding back. “You had your chance, Lando. I can’t keep going back to the past. I’m happy now. I’ve moved on.”
“But I still love you!” he pleaded. “You were always my main one!”
His words echoed painfully in my mind, but I stood my ground. “You had your chance to prove that. You made your choice.”
The phone call ended, and I sighed with relief. I looked at Pato, who was sitting beside me, and smiled. I had made the right choice.
I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Lando was no longer a part of my narrative. My life was filled with the warmth and love Pato brought into it, and I was excited for the future we would continue to create together.
With Pato, I had learned to love again, not just him, but also myself. And that made all the difference.
Lando’s chapter had closed, and I was finally ready to start anew, with someone who truly valued me, not just as the ‘main one,’ but as the woman I had become.
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coloursflyaway · 1 year ago
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i'm finally going through the comments on heaven to no one else but me (i'm so sorry for the delay, btw, but i was gone over the weekend and you guys were SO sweet that i wanted to take the time to reread everything and make sure i'd respond properly) and i just had A Thought.
i've been putting charles through the ringer lately, which i love doing, because that boy suffers so prettily. but how about a fic in which through magical hijinks charles loses his memory, and edwin is the one left behind?
and charles is like he always is, which is bright and happy and clever and wonderful, and he takes to edwin like he did last time ("so we're best friends? that's pretty cool, i never thought i'd get a best friend this clever! how do you put up with me?") and he's the same, but also, he's not.
because all the time they had together changed charles, just like they changed edwin, and there is something impossibly nostalgic about seeing charles like this, like a snapshot of thirty years ago, but at the same time, it's the most painful experience of edwin's life, because charles has forgotten everything about what made them them.
the synergy isn't there anymore, the ease they usually move with together, the references to older cases and the inside jokes they have.
one time, edwin holds out his hand on instinct; charles asks, "huh? what do you need?" instead of putting their magic screwdriver into it.
edwin doesn't do it a second time.
and there is a beauty, maybe, in watching charles get to know him again, but god, it breaks edwin's heart every second of the way.
and they go through remedy after remedy and nothing works, and edwin has to face the possibility that he might still have a best friend, but he'll never get His Best Friend back, and it's not enough to destroy him, because charles is still there, but god, it is close.
(charles, at the same time, is baffled by everything edwin knows about him and how close they must have been and is this really everything, is edwin keeping something from him? did they - he can hardly think it, because surely it can't be true, this doesn't happen to him, he's not worth of this happening to him - kiss? is this why edwin looks at him so dejectedly when he thinks charles doesn't notice?)
and charles keeps asking questions, like he is trying to figure something out, until one day, he kisses edwin. straight on the lips, a hint of a question in the curve of his mouth, and edwin is both overwhelmed and devastated, because this is what he had been hoping for before charles had lost his memory, and yet he cannot enjoy it now, because it's not His Charles; and yet he cannot pull away, because it is Still Charles and edwin loves him in any way he can.
it feels like cheating somehow, but what if he'll never get charles back, what if this is all that is left of their friendship now?
so he kisses back anyway, and when charles smiles against his lips, edwin thinks maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.
only that a few days, or maybe a few weeks later, something happens and charles suddenly looks at him and he's Back, edwin can see it in his eyes, and -
-and how can he explain this to charles now, that he let himself be kissed by charles when he was not himself, how can he look charles in the eyes when he knows that he has taken advantage of him like this, has he gotten his best friend back now only to lose him again because he couldn't control himself around charles and-
-and charles smiles at him, says, "hi. good to be back. i missed you."
and he takes edwin's hand, who still cannot speak, cannot think, and presses a kiss to the back of it.
"guess i just had to start all over again to realise i could absolutely fall in love with you, huh?" he says, and he looks at edwin like he used to a week ago, like he used to a decade ago, and edwin is crying before he knows it, fingers curling around charles' to hold onto him.
"did you?", he asks, and charles just laughs, sweet and happy and safe.
"oh absolutely. although i think i might have started thirty-odd years ago."
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paracosmic-murdock · 1 year ago
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i still got love for you
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part four: i hope for you
pairing: francesca bridgerton x fem!reader
summary: leaving for bath out of the sudden was the hardest thing you had had to do, not particularly because you had left your parents and home behind, but because your friendship with francesca bridgerton was ripped away from you a sudden summer morning.
five years later, francesca arrived in bath for the season to practice pianoforte with her aunt winnie, and finally, you see her again after thinking you had forever lost her. how much you wanted for your love to live and beat still, how much you wanted for francesca to say so.
warnings/tags: sapphic francesca bridgerton, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, am i gay quiz but make it nineteenth century somehow, smut, minors dni, inspired by an emily dickinson intimate letter to susan hunington dickinson, song: seven (taylor swift)
word count: 3.7K
❁ part one | part two | part three | part five | part six
❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)
“Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to? I hope for you so much, and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you — that the expectation once more to see your face again makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast.” (Excerpt from Open me carefully: Emily Dickinson's intimate letters to Susan Hunington Dickinson by Emily Dickinson)
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“That is your favorite breakfast.”
You stopped playing with your fork and looked at him. “I am not hungry.”
He ate the last bite of his dish. “Oh, and why would that be? The last time you ate was for lunch yesterday and it was almost nothing.”
“I do not know. Perhaps I am tragically ill.”
“Clearly,” He scoffed sarcastically. “You miss her.”
“I don't miss anybody, Charles. I just feel unwell.” you stated.
“You, Sister, are a terrible liar.”
“And you, Brother, are delusional.”
He shook his head and stood up, putting the napkin you had embroidered on the table before storming off without any explanation.
You rolled your eyes, drinking your berry tea.
As much as you wanted to deny it, you were pensive because you missed Francesca.
You haven't seen her since dinner a couple of weeks ago, and you couldn't help but feel bad about it.
Three days after that evening, you went to her aunt's home but were told she was not there. You left a message for her: she was invited to join you for tea the next day or whenever she wanted to, for you would be at your home every day.
You canceled quite some plans just in case she went, but she never did. And you were devastated.
It was a lovely evening, and you thought everything went really well. Perhaps it was because you had called her darling. You felt it was proper at the moment, but now, not anymore. Now, in your mind, you have made her feel uncomfortable and lost her forever.
Charles’ mind was known for hardly being made up.
Dilemma was almost his second name, and it was no secret. Always a dilemma, and now wasn't the exception.
He hates to see you upset and hurting. You are his sister, and ever since you were born, he vowed to love you and protect you. And after your parents sent you away, it was his biggest purpose.
Right now, he had no choice but to tell Francesca Bridgerton, in front of him, the reason he was there.
Charles cleared his throat. “I suppose you have an idea as to why I am here.”
“Charles…”
“Frannie, did she do something wrong?”
“No, I just…” She sighed. “I have not been feeling very well lately, that is all.”
“Are you sure?” he questioned, not quite believing her.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“My sister has been punishing herself for your absence, and… it breaks me to see her like this,” he mentioned. Francesca felt her heart break at the thought of you hurting. “Why don't you come for lunch at our home? I shall have the cooks do something you like.”
“Uh, we were invited for lunch at the Maguire's home, I am sorry…” she lied.
Charles sighed. “When can we receive you, then?”
“I do not know.” she said, looking down to her hands.
He stood up. “I really hope you know she is hurting because of your absence. She did those five years, and she has these past weeks. She loves you, and I know you love her too. And no, not in a friendly manner.”
And, just like that, he left.
Francesca sighed and watched him leave, not able to decide what to do. To stop him. To ask him. To do anything.
In truth, the reason Francesca has not visited you in weeks is because she was scared of loving you. Not for being you, but for being a woman.
Her aunt Winnie had asked her if Lord Chadwick was courting her, but she didn't quite know what to say. She just said she did not know, but her aunt was convinced he was.
Understandably so, because no man would just invite a young lady to his home so many times if he didn't have any intention to court her. What she didn't know was that the one interested in her was you. Another lady.
After the implications regarding your brother, Francesca's aunt remarked how important it was for her to marry a gentleman, a good man, wealthy, and with title. The only one Francesca wanted was you.
You, you, you… No one else.
It pained her to know that her actions were affecting you, especially because the last thing she ever wanted was to make you feel bad. She loved you, and she knew that when you love somebody, you want that person to be happy.
But you could never feel fine or happy without Francesca. You couldn't deny that. Nor would she, especially now that you have reunited. And now that she knew that you loved her, too.
In all honesty, you calling her darling was unexpected and spooked her more than she was willing to admit. Maybe because it was a term of endearment and no one had used it on her before, or maybe because you used it, confirming she was your darling. Yours. Oh, how much Francesca longed to be yours.
So she thought about you during the lunch at Chadwick House she was invited to attend but wasn't intending to, during the afternoon she would've spent playing pianoforte instead, and during the evening she was supposed to get ready to sleep but didn't. Her aunt went to sleep, and she did quite the opposite, sneaking to the backyard to get you flowers, and leaving her home for the purpose of finding you.
Francesca did not particularly come up with a plan, so when she saw herself in front of the entrance to Chadwick House without a way to get in, she got worried. However, she didn't have to worry for much longer because Charles opened the door some minutes later.
“Charles!” She flinched and hid her hands behind her back as he suddenly appeared in front of her with a confused frown.
“Francesca?” He grinned. “What are you doing here?”
Francesca shook her head. “I- uh… I came to- nothing! I was just- I am going back.”
“Frannie, with all due respect,” Charles sighed, grabbing her forearm to stop her from leaving. “Shut up. My sister is in her chambers. Third floor, second door to the left.”
“Sorry,” She pouted. “I guess-”
“Lord save me! You two are driving me mad!” he exclaimed as he covered his face with his hands. “Get in there, Francesca, and don't you dare leave before resolving whatever it is that you two have going.”
With that, he left her there and got on the awaiting carriage she had failed to notice before.
Francesca sighed, walking inside the house and following your brother's directions until she reached your door.
She knocked, but received no answer, so she opened the door to find your room empty. Francesca guessed that, perhaps, you had gone out for a walk, so she went downstairs and ended up looking at you from afar.
You were sitting in the swing and looking at the night sky in utter silence, and she almost didn't dare to interrupt you. She, however, had a purpose for her visit and wouldn't let the courage she had gathered go to waste.
Francesca sat silently in the swing beside yours without saying a word.
“Charles, I told you to let me be.” you groaned, looking opposite from 'his' face.
She cleared her throat. “This is not Charles.”
You turned around abruptly to face her.
Dear God.
“Francesca-” you whispered, almost not believing it. “Are you truly here?”
“Yes, I am here,” She smiled, showing you the tulip of an unknown color in the dark. “But, firstly, this is for you.”
You smiled weakly.
At the silence, she spoke. “I, uh- I had to see you.”
“What for?”
“To apologize,” she replied and sighed, getting ready for the speech she had prepared the whole afternoon. “For not coming back after dinner. I… I was scared because you called me darling, and it made me realize that I might not be… alone in these feelings I find impossible to name. It felt real out of the sudden, and I was not prepared for it. I thought about them all those days and reached to a conclusion I was dreading: that I love you. Not like a girl who is fond of her childhood best friend or like a girl who has such dear affection for a sister, no; I love you like one loves the person that is to be their spouse, their love match. I know well enough that this is not something a woman is supposed to feel for another woman, but I do, and I have reasons to believe you do as well. Please, tell me I am not alone in this feeling, for I believe that love could never be as profound as mine for you were it not reciprocated.”
You grabbed the rope of her swing and pulled her close to you. “I love you, my darling. I love you so much that I fear the word love is not enough to grasp all that I feel for you. It is pathetic, the way your proximity makes my whole being combust in yearning; it is alluring, the way your eyes can heal all that chaos when they look into mine. Having you here with me, under the full moon and in a field of violets, is the utmost proof of how sacred this love is. How sacred we must treat it. Being yours is the ultimate purpose of my existence, and I would be beyond grateful to you if you allowed me to honor it by loving you devotedly and cherishing you adoringly.”
Francesca exhaled and hesitated for a single, intrusive second. She, right then and there, kissed your lips softly. There was doubt and insecurity, but you managed to wash it out by kissing her back with a passion she couldn't have even dreamt of.
“Would you like to stay for the night? It is far too late for you to return home by yourself and we do not have another carriage available. I fear Charles will not return until tomorrow.” you proposed, standing up and offering her your hand to do so, too.
Francesca nodded, now standing as well, and staring at your lips.
You smirked, closing the distance promptly.
You did not know how to kiss, but the two of you would certainly learn that night.
Of course there was an extra room, but there was no need for that. Despite the last sleepover being five years ago, there was still this feeling of comfort and intimacy shared between you and her.
“I know that sharing a bed has never been an issue for us,” you began. “But, if you wish, I could have the help bring another bed for you.”
“No!” she exclaimed, regretting the haste and reluctance of her answer. “I mean, no. It is not necessary, for your bed is big enough for the both of us.”
You nodded with a smile. “Would you like for me to get a maid to help you get ready to sleep? I might as well call-”
“No, There should be no need. We could help each other, is that not right?” she answered shyly. You were surprised to hear that, but thought nothing of it, ignoring the warmth taking over your body at the mere idea. “I- well, I- I did not mean it like… if you… if you want to. I do not have a problem. If you do, it is alright if you-”
“Yes, it is alright.” you agreed, approaching her and pointing to the bed with your head. “I had a maid bring a sleeping chemise for you… should you like for me to-?”
She nodded, undoing her coiffure before you got to her. “Yes, I should like for you to help me now.”
Francesca didn't know what was going on in herself. Her words seemed to come out before she could process them and her intentions were rather unclear even to herself.
Now, she was in front of you. Your hesitant hands trembled lightly as you started taking her dress off. Francesca let out a soft gasp when your fingers grazed her skin, noticing your closeness as she leaned closer to you, not creating contact just yet but desiring so, so very anxiously. You started undoing her corset slowly, trying to take in every second of proximity existent between you, the fervid hunger invading the moment.
Francesca let out a shaky breath, leaning toward you and, this time, she was actually resting her weight on you timidly. She whispered your name, almost silently enough for you to not hear.
But you always heard her.
Her head was resting on your shoulder, touching your cheek with her cheekbones. “I love you.”
You kissed her cheek gently and then went to her neck. You left slight bites on her skin and moaned as she pressed herself onto you slightly more.
“I love you, too,” you reminded her, and it felt as if it was the very first time you told her so. “I will never not.”
You kissed her shoulders and put your hands on her hips.
“I think we are…” you whimpered as she intertwined your hands with hers. “We are doing something we most likely should not.”
She exhaled with difficulty. “What would that be?”
“I saw them,” you began. “Anne and Petunia, my maids, they- I saw them doing this.”
“This?”
“Making love.”
Your answer left her in a place between confusion and oblivious understanding. She knew, but also she did not.
“What does it mean?”
“I went for a late night walk in the backyard and heard some noises,” you told her. “Chadwick House is not as big as the Devereaux Manor, so we do not need as much help, nor do we have enough room for more. Some of the help that stays at the house has to share a room, so my two lady maids do. I know where their room is, so, upon hearing the sounds, I peeked through the window in case something had happened. And I saw them… As soon as my shock subsided, I ran back to my chambers, but not without seeing them like we are now. They were kissing and touching each other, nude.”
Francesca frowned. “How do you know what it is called?”
“A few days later, I asked Charles about it, but I never said I had seen them. I told him I had heard it somewhere,” you answered. “He panicked and told me not to speak of such things ever again. Then, he said those are things men and women do after they marry, but that some men do it without marrying and that it was normal, but respectable ladies like me could not do so under any circumstance… So, naturally, I ended up asking Anna about it and blaming it on Charles. She said that it is called making love and that people do it to consummate their marriage. I told her that Charles said some men do, but that ladies like me cannot, so she explained to me that it is said that women lose their worth after doing that and must be valuable for deserving a marriage. Also, we could get pregnant when doing it with a man, but men do not have to worry about themselves being with child; I, then, asked if men did it with men or women with women, and she said it was possible but not well seen at all, so I should not do it unless I love and trust the woman, but that I must be careful and not tell a soul about it because it was a display of love, goodness, and intimacy that deserves to be cherished and not broken by society's discrimination. Anne also said that it is supposed to feel quite pleasurable. That is how I know.”
She nodded, taking a few seconds to think about it and analyze the situation.
“Can we… do that?” Francesca asked, some boldness whose origin she unfortunately ignored.
“Oh,” Your eyes met hers as she turned around. “Well, if you want to… I mean, I want to, but only if you do as well, uh… Do you want to?”
“Yes, I want to make love with you.” She smiled confidently.
“Are you sure?”
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Francesca assured you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Can I take off your gown?”
A soft exhale left your lips at the thought. “You can take all of me, my darling.”
Francesca smiled a little, pressing her forehead to yours. Your noses brushed each other's before you kissed.
And, when it happened, you could only describe it as mystical. With her, everything felt like magic.
You thought, more often than not, that you weren't built for this world. You weren't built for this society because you wanted nothing but her and to be able to dance with her at balls, to just say ‘this is my wife’ to everyone you met, to love her freely.
You weren't built for a society that kept you away from her.
You wanted to be with her like this always, to feel the tip of her fingers brush your skin and cause goosebumps, to stand naked before her and her before you, just like you were now.
“What are we supposed to do now?” she asked.
You shrugged. “Shall we find out?”
She chuckled nervously, feeling like the fire lighting up the room was actually inside of her. Francesca nodded, giving you the needed cue to end the distance between you two and kiss her.
It was hesitant at first. You didn't know what to do with your hands, so you just put her hair behind her ear, deepened the kiss, and then cupped her face. Meanwhile, Francesca freed your hair and rested her hands on your shoulders, not knowing what to do either.
She ended the kiss, looking at you with a glint of need in her shy hazel eyes. She sighed, all her fears leaving her body with that exhale. Her hands went to the back of your neck to pull you close and began kissing there, imitating what you were doing when you helped her undress.
You held her by her waist and her hands traveled your shoulders and her fingers drew burning, irregular shapes on your back. “This feels good.”
“It does.” She smiled against your skin.
In an attempt to get closer, you put your leg between hers and pulled her until your skin was on hers. Which also meant that you were close enough for your thigh to touch her core.
The moan she let out was almost delirious and the way her hips bucked in response caused her thigh to stumble upon you.
Your eyes met, both silently agreeing that what you just did felt, oh, so good.
Francesca swallowed hard and looked down as she bucked her hips to provoke the same feeling to both of you.
“God,” you moaned, holding her tightly against you and moving like she moved. “My bed.”
When you pulled apart to go to the bed, a strange emptiness took over you. It was not only emotional, as if missing each other a bit; it was physical, too. A warm and wet something was left on your thighs as a result of your pleasure, which came as a surprise because neither of you had any idea what any of what you were doing was, but you did know how good it felt.
Once you were finally sitting on your bed, you looked at each other as if asking for permission, but then you realized how absurd it was to ask, to wait, to hesitate, so you kissed, this time hungrily and intensely. The way you clumsily returned to your previous position gave away how much you needed each other.
You were so clumsy and careless, that this time it wasn't your thighs but your cores that met, and you cried out at how terribly delicious that contact felt.
“This… feels so…” Francesca began, not able to come up with the words that could describe how she was feeling, so she just kept moving with you and moaning your name loudly.
“Good?” you panted.
“Better than- than good,” she replied, her breath labored. “Great.”
Hearing her be vocal about this was unexpected to say the least. However, you found it exciting and hot. “How do you feel, Fran?” you encouraged her to speak, craving to hear her say things about this very wonderful moment.
“Great,” she replied, a strange pressure building inside her very being. “This- I like… this.”
You kissed her eagerly, harshly, to then ask. “Do you?”
“Yes…” She nodded, kissing you again as your hands traveled to her hips and then used the contact to guide her to be faster and pull her close enough to apply more pressure.
Francesca broke the kiss, her head falling back and giving you access to her neck. You sucked her skin, beginning to notice how she had some burning red spots on the places your mouth has been to before.
A desperate moan left your lips when a sensation started to form deep inside you, and she was feeling it, too. You could only describe it as if you were running from a great distance to a cliff, and everything you were doing in the earthly world made the inside you run faster and faster until you reached the edge. And there, Francesca was waiting for you to see how you slowed down for a second, only so she could hold your hand and jump with you.
In both the earthly and imaginary world, you moaned her name loudly as you fell off the edge of the cliff, or as you came with her.
She moaned and gasped, and hid her head against your neck to muffle the sounds she was making.
“Do not hold back,” you told her, feeling your orgasm last so very long. “I wish to hear you, please.”
Francesca obeyed you, pressing her forehead to yours and moaning your name against your lips.
It was so innocent, yet so sensual. It felt right, but, oh, so immoral. And carnal. And fascinating. Scandalous, beautiful, mystical, sinful.
You didn't stop until it was too much. Her embrace didn't end, and she wanted anything but.
“I love you.” you whispered, guiding her to lie on the bed with you.
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
“I am so happy that you still had love for me.” You kissed her softly.
“I will always have love for you.” Francesca replied.
You stared at each other in silence. Her hand was on your cheek, caressing it, and yours drew delicate patterns on the soft skin of her hips.
“Can we do this again?” Francesca asked.
You smiled. “Can we?”
“I should like that.”
“Me as well.”
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taglist: @swiftholic-13 @kenzieisgone @urmultifandomfan
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formulafanfics13 · 14 days ago
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Matchmakers and Mischief was great, I think the drivers would be exactly like this in such a case 😅
For the next one I would love a smut part if you are up for it :)
The reader is 28 again and the whole grid knows and likes her. After being Lewis girlfriend for a while she finds out it was a bet.
The whole grid was involved in the bet so they help Lewis to make things right, because he really loves her :)
Six Months and a Million Lies - LH44 🔥
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Masterlist
Summary Everyone adored her — the heart of the paddock. But six months into a secret relationship with Lewis Hamilton, she discovers it all began as part of a bet. Heartbroken, she walks away. The fallout devastates the grid, especially Lewis, who truly fell for her. After weeks of regret and a dramatic confrontation with the team principals, he confesses everything in front of the entire grid. She lets him back in for one night of emotionally charged, furious sex — and though she isn’t ready to forgive him, she tells him he can try.
Warnings emotional manipulation, betrayal, intense heartbreak, public shaming, power imbalance, team politics, explicit smut (oral, vaginal, rough sex, begging, praise and apology kink), emotional aftercare, themes of regret and redemption.
She was twenty-eight, and every fucking person in the paddock adored her. From the camera crews who adjusted their lenses when she passed, to the engineers who snuck her extra lanyards just in case she forgot hers. From Rosanna Tennant, who always gave her first dibs on interview slots, to David Croft, who called her “the heart of the paddock” even when she wasn’t around.
Everyone loved her. That was the first rule. She never asked for it. She didn’t need the spotlight. But there was something about her — not just how she dressed, or how she moved like she belonged wherever she walked — but how she listened. How she remembered names and birthdays and brought you coffee exactly the way you liked it, and always said thank you.
She was kind. But untouchable. And somehow, six months ago, Lewis Hamilton had touched her. Publicly. Subtly. Enough that whispers had started, then shouts, then headlines. Then soft photos of their clasped hands, of Roscoe trotting beside her. Then a whole narrative: F1’s golden girl and the seven-time champion.
Everyone saw the romance. No one saw the bet. €1 million. A bottle of Don Pérignon on the table in Monte Carlo. Lando’s laugh. Max’s sharp eyes. George’s raised eyebrows. A challenge tossed down like a gauntlet.
“I bet you can’t make her fall for you. Not properly. Not in six months.”
It wasn’t malicious. Just cocky. Boys in suits, wine-drunk. A mix of bravado and boredom. Lewis hadn’t meant it. Not like that. But he hadn’t said no. And that made him complicit.
She found out on a Monday. In Imola. Via an overheard conversation in the McLaren motorhome between Charles and Alex, of all people. The tail end of it: “…he wasn’t supposed to actually fall for her…”
“Yeah but he did, right? Fuck, you can see it on him.”
Her stomach dropped before she even processed it. She didn’t storm. Didn’t scream. Just left. Took the lanyard off her neck, dropped it into Lando’s hands when he tried to ask what was wrong, and walked straight out the paddock gates.
Lewis didn’t even know she knew until midnight. He called, obviously. Left voicemails. Twenty-two of them. The last one was just his voice, broken: “Please. Just let me explain. It wasn’t supposed to be real. And then it was.”
She didn’t reply. Not that night. Not for the rest of the week. Because six months. Six fucking months. He’d kissed her like she was precious. Held her like she was breakable. Undressed her slowly, like he was savouring every inch of her. She’d told him secrets she’d never told another soul. She’d fallen asleep against his chest on private jets, worn his hoodies in Monaco, kissed his jaw while Roscoe slept on her feet.
And all of it, all of it, had started as a fucking joke.
When Toto Wolff found out, he nearly broke the glass door of the Mercedes motorhome. “You fucking what?”
James Vowels stood still. Andrea Stella’s mouth was literally hanging open. Fred looked like he was about to combust. Christian, weirdly, was the first to speak. “Wait. You’re telling me every one of you idiots was involved?”
Lando winced. Max looked down. George… paled.
Toto’s voice dropped low, like thunder before a lightning strike. “You bet a million euros on manipulating her?”
“She wasn’t manipulated-” Lewis tried, but the look Toto gave him would have flattened a less seasoned man.
“Are you insane? That woman is the only reason half this sport doesn’t burn from the inside out. She’s the calm in every storm. She’s kindness. She’s…” He stopped, jaw tight. “You took her and made her a fucking game.”
“She’s more than that,” Lewis whispered. “She’s everything. And I ruined it.”
Zak looked like he might punch someone. “You’re damn right you did.”
The plan to fix it started two weeks later.
Lewis didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat properly. Didn’t smile unless it was forced. Max was the one who suggested the private dinner. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine. What if she talks to everyone else?”
So they hosted it in Monaco. Andrea brought her in under the pretence of a logistics meeting. Fred was already there, awkwardly holding wine. George tried to be charming.
Charles was quiet. Until she broke.
“What do you want me to say?” she snapped. “That I’m not angry? That I’m not humiliated?” Her eyes shimmered but no tears fell. “That it doesn’t fucking kill me that the one man I thought saw me… didn’t?”
The room went still. Lewis stepped forward. Slow. Like she might vanish. “I did,” he said. “I do. I swear to God, if I could take it all back-”
“You can’t.”
“I know.” He exhaled, voice wrecked. “But let me spend the rest of my life proving I mean it now.”
She didn’t speak. So he knelt. There. In front of her. In front of the grid. “I fell in love with you without trying. I never meant to play you. But I meant every time I held you. Every time I kissed you. Every time I made you come with my name in your mouth.”
She flinched. But her thighs clenched. And he saw it.
The sex was insane. She let him in her hotel room an hour later. No words. No promises. He undressed her slow. Reverent. Let his mouth worship every inch like it was penance. “You still think about me?” he whispered, tongue circling her nipple until she gasped.
“I think about hating you.”
“But your thighs are shaking, baby.” He kissed lower. Fingers sliding through her folds. “You’re soaking for me. After everything.”
She shoved at his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up.”
He licked her anyway. Deep. Hot. Unrelenting. Moaning into her cunt like it was home. She tried not to scream. Failed. He dragged it out of her. One orgasm. Two. Three. Her legs trembling, voice hoarse, throat raw from moaning his name.
When he finally fucked her, it was desperate. Hands everywhere. Body flush to hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, fucking into her like he could erase the past.
She kissed him like it would kill her not to. And when she came again, walls squeezing him so tight he saw stars, she finally choked out the words: “I hate you.”
“I know.”
“But I still love you.”
He came hard. Deep. Shuddering into her, moaning her name like prayer.
The next morning, he woke to her in his hoodie, barefoot by the hotel window. “You’re not forgiven,” she said softly.
“I know.”
“But you can try.”
He smiled. For real, for the first time in weeks. “Forever.”
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natailiatulls07 · 2 years ago
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Childhood Sweethearts
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Charles Leclerc x female!reader
Summary - After years of being separated, the two childhood lovers reunite once again
Warning - Herve Leclercs death, anxiety
-
Growing up, the Leclerc’s and the L/n’s were close family friends. Pascale and Herve were Y/n’s godparents. Being the same age, the parents would often stick Charles and Y/n together claiming that they were future lovers and soulmates.
That’s how the two developed a crush on the other, an innocent and first crush.
It didn’t help that the two would unknowingly play into the scenario of young love, like this one time Charles had given her his lollipop because there wasn’t any left for Y/n. Or the time where Y/n offered to play football with him when Charles’ other friends couldn’t, despite the fact that she didn’t know how to play the sport.
Pascale and Y/n’s mum would always say “oh look at them, the cutest little couple ever”. Or Herve and her father would always convince Charles to buy Y/n a little gift with his pocket money which he happily obliged to.
However, in 2017, after Herves unfortunate and devastating death, the two families grew apart. They never wanted this to happen but sometimes in life these things do happen and we can’t control them.
They felt uncomfortable spending time together without the company of the late Leclerc. Losing contact was when Charles and Y/n had finally broken apart.
Yet their life long love for each other didn’t flutter away, they would still love the other the same but just miss them incredibly.
-
“Yes mum, I’ll be okay don’t worry” I had only just gotten off the plan in Austria when my mum called me, she has always been very anxious when I travel alone.
“Ok honey, when you do see Charles tell him that he should bring his mum over sometime” That’s why I was here in Austria, I was planning on surprising him.
It all started when his little brother, Arthur, reached out to me through instagram dm’s.
Hey Y/n, long time no see. I was wondering if you could do me a favour
So when he explained how Charles had been feeling a little down about his performance this year on track and that Arthur thought it was best if I came to surprise him, I didn’t hesitate to agree.
It was along before race day Sunday came around. I had arranged to meet Arthur at the paddock entrance and he’d be my guide for the day. I had butterflies in my stomach, what if he had moved on from our silly childhood love? What if he didn’t want to see me again? I had many what if’s which didn’t help my anxiety. “Hey! Hey Y/n!” I heard the voice of the youngest Leclerc brother as he approached me, snapping me out of my head full of questions.
“Arthur Leclerc! Since when did you grow?!” I had always remembered how he would be smaller than me growing up and now he has grown well above my height.
“Long long time in the making, unless you’ve gotten shorter” He teased before pulling me into a hug. “No seriously we’ve missed you and your family…” Arthur’s voice now growing more somber.
“I know, we miss you guys too…but hopefully after today we’ll get some more time together…” I knew it wouldn’t be the same without Herve but we’d honour him and reminisce on the memories. Taking a deep breath as we pulled apart.
“Let’s do this! He’s going to be so happy!!” There was an evident smile of excitement on his face, which I only mirrored on my mine.
-
The race had just finished, with Charles coming in at second. Both Y/n and Arthur had managed to keep her out of sight of Charles, leaving the surprise for the podium.
Standing just below the podium, she watched how Checo then Charles and finally Max took their places.
Y/n wasn’t sure he’d see her as she was amongst a sea of red, all the Ferrari engineers and employees. That was until Charles had looked down at the red sea, his eyes clicked on a familiar yet stranger of a face.
His hand flew over his mouth to show his shock, before jumping down from second place and running down to her. Many staff members tried to stop him, but his force was too strong.
Finally the man in the Ferrari racing suit had come face to face with her again. “What? How are you here?” Charles had many questions, beyond baffled.
“To surprise you, Charlie” Their cheeks were beginning to hurt because of how much they were smiling. Crashing her into his arms, they both felt at home and comfortable.
“Oh ma amour… I’ve missed you some much” Y/n was close to tears, she had never found anyone who loved her the way he did. She missed that love they had for each other.
“Missed you too Charlie” She managed to croak out through her tears. They were both too focused on each other to notice everyone around them.
Arthur was watching from just beside, happy that he could reunite the childhood sweethearts after so long. Fans were confused but cheering nonetheless as they could see the relief and comfort this brought to Charles.
You could see Max looking down from his spot on the podium to see the two reuniting. He had known of Y/n from their karting days where her family would join the Leclercs to support Charles on the sidelines.
Max would often remember how she was the first one to hug and congratulate Charles whatever the race result, he saw the love in their eyes.
-
It had been a few days after the race, and the two were once again inseparable. Travelling back to Monaco whilst the two families planned a small get together.
“So Y/n, how is everything? I’ve missed our girls days out with me, you and your mum” Pascale had pulled Y/n aside, she wanted to catch up with her goddaughter.
“All good but even better now! Yes we should definitely do a girls spa day soon” A bright smile was etched on Y/n’s face, showing Pascale that she was far from lying.
“Of course, tell me has there been any other men in your life over the years…” As much as Pascale hated the idea of Y/n with someone else and Charles with someone else, she needed to know.
“No…Charlie has always been the one with my heart…” There was a sigh of relief coming from the older women’s lips as Y/n revealed her love for him.
“Well you’ll be glad to know that I think you and Charles are on the same page there…” She could only smirk when Y/n started to blush.
“Thank you Pascale, you really are my fairy godmother” With that Pascale pulled her into a hug, a long and warming hug.
-
“So tell us Charles, who is the new lucky girl?” The interviewer asked. It had been just over few months since Charles and Y/n reunited and their love had become strong than ever.
“She’s nothing new, we’ve always loved each other like we do now but yeah she’s my soulmate, my other half” Anyone who could see him now could see the love in his eyes.
This wasn’t an ordinary love story, and you could tell. “I love her and she loves me, always have and always will”
-
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gerec · 11 months ago
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Do you have fic recs for cherik exes to lovers?
Saved the best for last, Anon - exes to lovers is my absolute FAVOURITE trope!
These are some of my personal favourites; I hope you enjoy :D :D :D
symphysis by ikeracity
After Charles and Erik broke up four months ago, Charles convinced himself he'd never see Erik again. But life has a funny way of bringing people back together.
it was a yellow umbrella spring by ikeracity (series - read part 1 first!)
Three years after Charles left for Oxford, Erik discovers that Charles is coming back to New York.
Second chances are wonderful things.
Lean On Me by SpiritsFlame
Ten years ago, Charles and Erik split up, dividing their six kids between them. None of them expect them to meet at summer camp. And no one could have predicted the results.
preheat to 350 (just for you remix) by ikeracity
Charles realizes he's in love with Erik. But there's one tiny little problem: he just broke up with Erik.
Repeat Offenses by populuxe
“Prickly bits aside—hell, for the two of them, prickly bits included—it almost felt like a date. Which is stupid on multiple fronts. Grudgingly buying your ex a meal after he grudgingly bails you out of jail is obviously not a date.”
Five times Charles bailed Erik out of jail—and one time he didn’t.
melt your headaches, call it home by joshriku
Two decades later after the last time he saw Charles Xavier, Erik's children lead him right back to him.
Of course, it's never easy to look at the ex love of your life and realize you're not over them, not even in the slightest.
my heart knows your name by borninsideatornado
Once they’ve finally got him in bed, Charles works up the courage to ask if he might stay for a few days, because being rejected can’t be worse than seeing Erik in pain. But Erik only says, “I think that would be good.”
The Way I See You by kianspo
Charles is an FBI agent working white collar crimes, specializing in art theft. Erik is a master forger. It's all well and good, except no one knows that Charles and Erik used to be in love once upon a time. Years later, they meet again.
my heart knows your name by borninsideatornado
Once they’ve finally got him in bed, Charles works up the courage to ask if he might stay for a few days, because being rejected can’t be worse than seeing Erik in pain. But Erik only says, “I think that would be good.”
to put the world between us by populuxe
Erik Lehnsherr is one of the hottest actors in Hollywood: fresh off an Academy Award nomination, he’s about to star in HBO’s most anticipated show of the year. And even though online chatter about his recent string of queer roles keeps getting louder, his personal life remains personal—just as it always has, and just as his manager and publicist continue to advise.
But when he winds up at the same wedding as his college best friend, Charles Xavier—and when they quickly fall into bed together—he’s forced to revisit the past he’s been trying to get away from for years. The pull between them has always been magnetic, but so has the weight of secrecy. Can they keep from repeating the same mistakes, or will the price of the truth be too high?
Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem
Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.
Old Flame Burning by TurtleTotem
It's ridiculous for Charles to dread meeting the best man at his sister's wedding, just because he shares a name with Charles's ex. It's not as though it could possibly be the same Erik.
The Edge of What Doesn’t End by populuxe
When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.
I need sleep like I need oxygen (I'm not admitting to missing you like crazy) by ximeria
Erik needs sleep, but since he and Charles broke up, he's not been able to get a good night's sleep.
December, Take Two by Anonymous
Charles has no problem being in the same room as his ex at Emma's holiday party. They're adults, after all.
We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven (the things you love don't last remix) by hllfire
Charles hands Erik the signed divorce papers, but Erik has changed his mind. Too late, it seems. All he can do is go forward with the divorce. A year later, Charles comes back, and Erik can't help but wanting to see him. The only problem is things don't go like Erik had planned.
Spy Games by manic_intent
Prompt: Burn Notice AU, with Erik Lehnsherr as the spy and Charles as the trigger-happy ex boyfriend. Erik is burned for unknown reasons in Mexico and wakes up in New York City. Somehow, he needs to raise $500,000, in order to find out -why-.
Best Ex Ever by 1sttimefeeling
Charles wakes up drunk on the pavement of a gas station, phone dead. He finds a payphone but can only remember one number. Erik Lehnsherr's.
The problem? They broke up two years ago.
Twice in One Lifetime by Gerec
Written for this prompt: Charles and his fiance Steve, are happily waiting for their first baby. What they are not expecting is the baby to arrive almost a month earlier and looking like a miniature copy of Charles' ex-boyfriend Erik.
It takes them a lifetime to get it right.
Years Falling Like Grains Of Sand by clarasteam
Seven years after they met and parted, Charles and Erik meet again in the most unlikely place.
Every Song I Know by clarasteam
“Erik,” Janos says wearily, “you had amazing sex with this guy. He obviously really likes you. You have, what, a month, six weeks left? You can spend it moping and hiding and worrying you're going to run into him. Or you can call him, have a good time, and figure out where you go from there.”
Erik groans. It's what he wants to do, so much it scares him.
Talk, Baby, Talk by lyonet
“Enough,” Erik said furiously. “It’s over. Let it die.”
“Be fair, sugar,” Emma said. “We made good music. It was your choice to wear magenta armour and a cape.”
Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) by kianspo
While working as a model for Raven and Emma's clothing line, Erik experiences a strong attraction to his shoot partner. These things happen, except Erik has a boyfriend, who does not take this at all well.
+
linger like a tattoo kiss by ikeracity
Six months apart gives Erik a lot of time to think about what he really wants.
An absence which could not be more there by aesc
He prepared to shift another half-step over to the Current Events section (which would, of course, enrage him) when the teaser positioned by the model's left elbow caught his eye: DATING WHILE TELEPATHIC: WHY I DON'T DO IT.
Salem Center Mass by listerinezero
Erik Lehnsherr is a professional hitman and has no intention of attending his ten year high school reunion. But since he happens to have a kill lined up in the same town at the same time, he decides he may as well stop by. After all, his high school sweetheart, Charles Xavier, might be there. And it's not like he's spent the past ten years pining over Charles. Not at all.
Three wheels of cheese and a Great White by ximeria
Charles and Erik were friends with benefits in college.
They went their separate ways and 18 years later, they run into each other in New York.
The sex was never a problem back in college - and sex was all it had been. But now Erik is a divorced father and Charles has admitted to himself he needs more than just sex in a relationship. So in their usual round-about way they try to navigate becoming friends after so many years. The whole quest is aided by Raven, Edie, Wanda and Pietro (and a large number of shark jokes).
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sunny44 · 2 years ago
Text
What about us?
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x ex!Reader
Warnings: mentions of loneliness, sadness, breakup, co-parenting and maybe more
Summary: Where Lewis hasn't been himself lately.
Next Chapter
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Lewis and I met when I was working in the media department at Mercedes, I wouldn't say we fell in love at first, but he was definitely the guy I loved most in my life.
But unfortunately not everything we love stays in our lives forever.
We dated for 3 years and then when 2021 came, he was so devastated that the title was taken away from him that our relationship didn’t last.
He was so out of himself that u didn’t recognized him anymore, I seem like the man I love was taken away from me when he lost that day.
So that when we decided to go in separated ways.
But 3 months after i found out that u was pregnant with our daughter and we had to get our path together again. He said to me the day I told him about my pregnancy that I saved him for making the stupidest mistake of his life because he was about to retire from formula 1.
The internet already new that we weren’t together anymore but they just discovered my pregnancy when he posted about it.
We obviously will have a connection for the rest of our lives and I am extremely happy that we manage to be in good terms or co-parenting would have been harder.
I would be lying if I said it was easy because it wasn’t, the fact that we are separated makes Harley's schedule and routine harder than would be if we were together.
Today is Harley’s 3th birthday and I’m was going crazy with everything, she wanted a formula 1 themed party and it was all thanks to her father who got her addicted to the sport.
So here I was running around my apartment to decorate everything while she was with Sebastian and his wife.
Kika is here with Pierre and the other boys helping me with the party.
Lately he was kind of absent, he obviously came to see Harley but when I tried to talk to him, Lewis answered as little as possible and my messages he didn't even answer.
I had been trying to get him to help me with her birthday but now I was worried that he wouldn't come.
I hope he is only busy now in the afternoon because I will kill him if he doesn't show up.
We live in Monaco so some of the drivers came since they are all passionate about Harley.
This includes George, Pierre, Sebastian, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, Max and Lando.
Max and Lewis were not biggest fans of each other, far from it, but Benjamin his son was best friends with Harley so we met occasionally. And above all they treated each other with respect so we had an acceptable relationship for the sake of our children.
And Lewis hated that Harley adored Uncle Max.
The party had been going on for two hours and nothing came of him, I didn't know whether to be worried or angry.
"Mommy, where's Daddy?"
"I don't know my love, he should be here soon." She agrees a little discouraged but runs to where Ben and Max were.
"Anthony do you know where Lewis is?" I asked his father who was talking to my parents.
"I don't know darling, he said he would be a little late but he would come." I sighed in frustration. "I'll try to call him."
"Thank you."
He left to try to call his son and I went off to try to concentrate on distracting Harley with play.
He appeared in the middle of the party and I sighed with relief when I saw him coming through the door with Angela with him, Harley ran up to her father and I was happy to see her smile.
"How nice of you to come." I hugged Angela and she smiled.
"You've done well with the decorations." She said and I thanked her. "Can I talk to you? I want to take advantage of the fact that he's distracted by her."
I looked at the two of them and Harley was talking non-stop and he was listening attentively.
"Sure." We went into the kitchen where no one was around. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm not sure, I'm a bit worried about him."
"What happened?"
"I arrived at his apartment today and everything was a mess and he was asleep on the sofa." I was surprised because he rarely slept during the day and his apartment was always spotless. "I tried to talk to him but you know how he is, Lewis doesn't open up easily but he ended up saying that he wasn't happy and that he missed you both a lot."
"But we're always here."
"I think he misses a family." I sighed because I understood his feeling. "You know that he loves you both more than anything in the world and I remember when you were together he was planning to marry you, have children and have you live in a more secluded house so that you wouldn't be swallowed up by the media but from one moment to the next his plan became just a dream."
"I understand."
"And the only thing that's kept him going over the last few years is that little girl and the fact that you're her mother because that's what's kept you in his life. But he hasn't been the same for a while."
"I've noticed that he's been acting strange lately, he doesn't talk to me directly and avoids me whenever he can."
"Because he knows that you know him like the back of your hand and that you would know what was wrong with him." She takes my hand. "I'm not telling you this because I want you to feel guilty or anything, but I wanted to ask you to talk to him and try to help him in any way you can."
"All right, I'll talk to him after the party."
...
I said goodbye to the last few people and the only ones that were still around was Max, Ben and Lewis
"Buddy it's about time we go home." He says trying to talk the boy off the trampoline.
"Not yet Daddy, wait a little longer." He says short of breath from jumping around.
"If you don't mind I can take him to your apartment later."
"All right, thanks." He said goodbye and went home.
They kept jumping on the trampoline while Lewis was inside grabbing the trash.
After 10 minutes Bem said he was tired and i asked Lewis to watch Harley while I take him to his father and when I came back I could hear them in her room.
"I've missed you so much, Daddy." She says, already lying on her bed.
"I missed you too baby bear." She smiles tiredly and closes her eyes. He kisses her forehead and stays there for a few more minutes until he sees that she's asleep.
"Hey." He smiles as soon as he sees me outside her room. "I'm sorry I couldn't help, I got caught up with some work stuff."
He was lying but I knew it was juts for me not to worry about him.
"It's okay, I sorted it out." He smiled and went back into the living room. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Maybe because I know you better than you think." He sighs. "You don't have to tell me what it is, but I want you to know that I care about you."
"It's just that everything's been a bit too much lately."
"What do you mean?"
"The constant pressure at work, the media, the fact that I'm not there for you two every day. Everything." He turns to me. "I just don't know how much I can take anymore."
"Lewis..."
"I miss you, and I miss us, I miss Harley and this feeling that I'm good at what I do has been haunting me."
"But you are good."
"Apparently not so much because I can't even stand on the podium." I sighed. "I don't expect you to understand but I don't think I want to do this anymore."
"What do you want to do then?" He looks at me. "You know that Harley and I don't care if you're a driver or not, we care about you too much to worry about whether you're still in Formula 1 or not."
"It's just that I've lived this for so long that I just wish I could be with you every day without worrying about having to catch a flight to the other side of the world."
"I understand and I'll support you in whatever you decide.
"Thank you." I sat down on the sofa and nudged him to sit next to me, which he did, resting his head on my shoulder. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"I know, I love you too."
"But I love you in a way that..."
"I know, and I love you the same way." He looks at me. "I understood what you meant from the start."
"And what does that mean for us?"
"I don't know but we don't need to find out today, we have plenty of time." He smiles and we lie down on the sofa.
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Bonus scene!
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Liked by @lewishamilton, @susiewolf, @cherlesleclerc and others 293629
@yourusername I still can believe my baby is turning 3 years old today.
I’m so happy that I’m your mama and that I’m able to watch you grow and turn into this beautiful little girl.
I can’t imagine my life without you and I’m grateful for having you in my life.
Thank you @lewishamilton for making me a mama and for giving me the best gift anyone could ever give me.
Happy birthday sweet girl, mama loves you so much 🩵.
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Guys I have so many ideias for another chapters of Lewis being Harleys dad so if you guys want to read the next chapters let me know so I’ll tag you guys.
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metaliczz · 1 year ago
Text
Charles Leclerc smut
In which your boyfriend broke up with you and you go over to Charles' place
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You were devastated. 3 long years of relationship and your boyfriend decided to put an end to it. You couldn't stop crying. He had left your house 10 minutes ago, leaving you alone in this awful situation. Tears filled your eyes as you could barely see what was in front of you. You were tired from all the crying, but you couldn't go to bed yet. You were sat down on your couch an the whole situation was far too painful. You needed to see someone. And you desperately knew who that "someone" would be.
You stretched your arm, reaching the coffee table that was in front of you and you grabbed your phone. Wiping the tears away, you dialed your bestfriend Charles' number. You didn't know if he'd be awake by now since it was almost 1am, but you decided to give it a try anyway. On the 3rd ring, he picked up.
"Hey (Y/N), what's up?" Your bestfriend asked. It took you a couple of seconds before answering.
"Can I come over to your place?" You asked as tears started to roll down your cheeks again.
"Always. Is there something wrong?" He said.
"Yeah.
You hung up, quickly put your shoes on and grabbed a jacket. As the front door closed, the pain in your chest started hitting you again. It hurt, so bad, but you still got into your car and made it to Charles'.
-
Three fast and hard knocks made Charles open the door in two seconds. As soon as your eyes met his, you could feel he knew what was going on. He closed the front door and wrapped his arms around you.
"It's him, right?" Your bestfriend asked, looking into your eyes.
"It's over." You said.
Charles joined you in his bed as he got close to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. Your face was buried into him.
-
You had fallen asleep and you woke up at the sound of shuffling besides you. You looked over to your left and there was Charles. He somehow managed to get closer to you. You smiled and looked up at him, his face relaxed and shiny. He was still sleeping and you loved watching him as he did so. Charles looked angelic.
After staring at him for a while, he eventually woke up from his sleep. His eyes met yours quickly, looking into yours before he closed them and rubbed them. He yawned and let out a small groan before finally talking to you.
"Hi." Charles said, giving you a small smile.
"Hey."
"Are you feeling better?" He asked.
"Yeah, I really appreciate you."
"I'm always here. Whenever you need." He said, replacing a strand of your hair that got messed up while you were sleeping.
-
The two of you stayed in bed for a little talking about other things to change your mind from what had happened last night. The more you talked to Charles, the more you realized how badly it should've been him all along. Those 3 years and more should've been spent with him and not your stupid ex.
You stared into his eyes, feeling safe, but also butterflies. You've always felt different around Charles, but this time it was a whole other type of different.
Your bestfriend didn't say anything. He stared at you in return, his arms still wrapped around you, warmth surrounding your bodies. Charles moved one of his hands up to your face. His hand caressed your cheek, cupping it with his hand as his thumb rolled circles on it.
"Why do I feel this way?" You whispered, tons of emotions filling your body up.
"Because we love each other." Charles simply answered still caressing your cheek
Your heart started beating faster. Your eyes could only focus on his lips and your hand tugged at his shirt impatiently. Charles smiled, and pulled your face closer to his. His lips brushed against yours, making you envy him. He gave you a small kiss on the lips before having a whole make out session with you. You rolled over on your back and Charles got on top of you. His kisses trailed down to your neck, leaving hickeys all over it. His hands went all over your body causing you to shiver. Charles went back to kissing you. His heavy breathing made you go crazy, wanting nothing but more of him.
"Charles..."
"What? Did I do something wrong?" He asked suddenly stopping, a worried look on his face.
"No, don't stop. Please. I need you."
"Are you sure?" Charles asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
You answered by tugging at his hair and pulling him closer to you for a kiss. Charles pulled away from the kiss and took his shirt off, throwing it to the ground before getting back to making out with you. His hands trailed on the hem of your shirt, helping you take it off. The two of you took off your pants. You could see how the buldge in Charles' pants was growing, and you loved it.
"You are everything..." Charles said kissing your cheek, then your neck.
Your hands played with his hair. You couldn't wait for him to be inside of you. It's all you wanted. Charles took off his boxers... God was he big. You looked at him, not saying anything. You didn't know if you could take all of it.
"(Y/N), are you feeling okay?"
"I don't know if I'd be able to... take it all." You answered, kind of embarrassed. Your cheeks flushed pink as you kept looking at him.
"I'll go slowly and you tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I would never in my life hurt you, ever."
You nodded in response, biting your lip. Charles took your underwear off and guided his member on the edge of your core. He could feel how wet you were, and you could feel his pre-cum already. The mix of the two of you felt heavenly. Charles slowly put his dick inside of you, making sure you couldn't get hurt. A loud moan escaped from your lips. A wave of warmth flushed through your body as Charles kept whispering in your ear how perfect you are. After a few seconds, you got more used to it. Charles started thrusting in and out of you, each time going a little faster. He felt amazing. He was sweet, passionate and smooth with you. He was so patient. His thrusts got only better. His moans and yours filled the room. Charles' hand got to your clit, gently rubbing it with his fingers. A sharp moan was heard from you, burying your head in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around it.
"(Y/N)... I'm close..." Charles moaned as he went faster.
"Me too... keep going. You feel so good."
In a matter of seconds Charles came inside of you, filling you with his warmth and love. You joined in at the same time, letting go of Charles' neck. All of a sudden you got extremely tired. Charles let himself fall besides you on his bed, exhausted. The two of you stayed in silence, thinking about what had just happened.
Charles rolled onto his side, looking at you. You turned your head to face him. He was admiring you, his eyes full of love and care for you. How long had he felt this way for? So many questions ran through your mind but you ignored them. You ignored them because you now realized that the man lying besides you was your only purpose of life. You were ready to drop everything you had for him. At the end, you didn't know why you loved him, but to you, that meant true love. Not knowing why you love someone is the purest kind of love there was, is and ever will be to mankind. His slow blinks proved he was ready to do anything for you.
"I think this is as close to heaven as I'll ever get." He said.
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