#charles Leclerc prompt

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

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A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis. 

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles. 

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now. 

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training. 

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes. 

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted. 

He misses you every second. 

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now. 

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you. 

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most. 

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings. 

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago. 

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis. 

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it. 

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain. 

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head. 

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it. 

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end. 

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning. 

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races. 

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems - 

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general. 

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger. 

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness. 

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again. 

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out �� they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in. 

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you. 

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either. 

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully. 

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place. 

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things. 

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death. 

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way. 

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is. 

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs. 

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want? 

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life. 

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again. 

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him. 

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him. 

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone. 

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them. 

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all. 

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed. 

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside. 

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long. 

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him. 

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs. 

You. 

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed. 

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense. 

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home. 

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable. 

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment. 

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it. 

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all. 

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down. 

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all���you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

with the upcoming release of your newest album, fans are speculating if it’s the only new news you have to share

an first smau! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part two

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 4,836,364 others

yourig and that’s a wrap on the album. preorder CATALYST starting the 16th ;)

view comments

user MOTHERRR

user i’m so excited omgg

userwho is the guy??

user idk if it’s just me, but it kinda looks like @charles_leclerc

user time to go on twitter

user the kids miss you

user oh to be able to kiss y/n

user charles in the likes?!?!

view more comments

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, landonorris, 78,379,379 others

charles_leclerc had so much filming with @/king

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user OH??

user i knew it!!

user y/n and f1… my worlds are colliding

user is he the one y/n kissed??

user omg what if they’re dating??

landonorris you look so good

charles_leclerc when do i not ;)

user YESSSS

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king

liked by yourig, bandmateig, charles_leclerc 82,465,868 others

king cheers to the release of CATALYST stream now on all platforms💜💙

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yourig soso proud of everyone! ty so much to our amazing team for making it possible

liked by king

user FINALLYYYY

user mothers are mothering

user OMG charles in the pool scene?? insane

bandmateig lets gooo

liked by king, yourig

user the whole plot of the mv was crazyy

charles_leclerc 🔥🔥

liked by yourig

user charles in the comments??

user he def got with y/n

user yall he was in only in the mv, calm down

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breakingnews

38,597 likes

breakingnews singer-songwriter y/n l/n spotted with f1 driver charles leclerc after her bands album release party

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user WHATTT

user she’s no good for charles… what is he thinking

user am i the only one who thinks they look good tg?

user nah are you crazy he’s too innocent for her

user he’s a grown man but ok💀

user I KNEW IT

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part two??

[bunny-jpeg]

how can i take your order? all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and driver/character of your choosing! are you in the mood for a mille-feuille or a big slice of chocolate cake! please, please, please indicate who you want me to write about!!

the servers are from the following: formula one, call of duty, baldur's gate 3, haikyuu, one piece, jujustu kaisen, detective comics (dc), marvel comics (but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!)

i do also accept polyam relationships! (pairing + reader), up to about four people! just to make it manageable on my end!

all orders can be made to the inbox for @bunny-jpeg and i'll get your order together asap! also let me know if you want it extra sweet or a little more spicy !

mille-feuille: “that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

butter tart: "let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

sugar pie: “gonna let daddy hear ya?”

zebra cake: "well, what do we have here?"

carrot cake: "swallow it. all of it."

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."

pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo."

oat flapjacks: "i'm not scared of you."

persian rolls: "it's mandatory i finish. you getting to finish is a treat."

spice pie: "i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut."

mushroom pie: "if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up."

lemon slice: "i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making."

swiss roll: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

pumpkin pie: "i've met strays who were more obedient."

pastry braid: "your job is to make me cum. now get to work."

sausage roll: "i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt."

pithivier: "if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you."

tiramisu: “my little slut to ruin.”

sponge toffee: "aw, is someone mad that they can only cum because of me?"

pull-apart bread: "i love you"

powered sugar donuts: "marry me."

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”

pudding chomeur: "i don't share."

ice cream bars: “did you see the way he was eyeing you? he need to know you're mine."

chocolate cake: "do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day."

soufflé: "i'll be gentle."

fried dough: "i know virginity is a stupid concept... but i want to take yours."

apple pie: "now be good and beg. thank you."

vanilla cheesecake: "where are your manners?"

berry trifle: "wrong. try again."

maple cream pie: "either you wear the necklace with my name on it, or wear my bruises around your neck."

s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?"

belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night."

pancakes: "if you bite me. i'll bite you back."

loaf of whole wheat bread: "you're going to shut that mouth and take me."

jos louis: "does someone need a daddy?"

maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid."

snowballs: "don't worry, drug tests aren't till next week."

shortbread cookies: "and who does this belong to?"

flan: "i'm not possessive... i'm obsessive."

peach cake: "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

angel food cake: "if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you."

red velvet cupcake: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."

mince pie: "i'm not jealous."

banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name."

crumb cake: "if you just listened, all of this could've been avoided."

chocolate chip cookies: "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat"

nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

coffee cake: "knees. now."

sourdough bread: "i'm going to breed you."

blueberry muffins: "i don't think it'll fit."

pound cake with strawberries: "you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

crepe: "pretty girl."

french toast: "you're trying to make me jealous!"

churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

shortbread squares: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

savory pastry: "let your brother find out."

sweet pastry: "i'll make it all better."

eclairs: "the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut."

boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection."

bagel: “gonna paint you with my teeth.”

crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”

tres leches: "i wonder if your brother know i cum in you."

peanut butter bars: “scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”

eton mess: "be careful. your breath smells like cum."

scones: "but what if they see us!"

english muffin: "aw, is someone crying?"

honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes."

banana split: "don't look at me like that."

beer brownies: "stick your tongue out anymore and you'll look like a dog."

fudge: "your father is pissing me off."

sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up."

brownies: "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

chocolate mousse: "the only necklace you need is my hand around your throat"

tim bits: "stupid little thing."

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special."

cornmeal muffin: "i need you most."

devil's food cake: "you're my most unhealthy obsession."

crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

banana & chocolate muffins: "i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them."

custard tart: "i've never done this before."

cinnamon rolls: "no one needs to know."

mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"

date squares: "you look better with my marks on you."

figgy duff: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"

spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught."

cream puffs: "let me finish inside."

profiteroles: "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

with a side of:

coffee: rivals

tea: semi-public/public sex

juice: cockwarming

mocha coffee: breeding kink

bubble tea: daddy kink

a vodka shot: rough sex

sparkling water: gentle sex

coconut water: alternate universe

energy drink: doggy style

champagne: sugar daddy situation

hard lemonade: possessive behaviour

espresso shot: dirty talking

a glass of wine: cowgirl position

ice capp coffee: werewolf au

bloody mary: vampire au

martini: mafia au

frozen latte: dumbification

frozen lemonade: consensual non-consent

cranberry juice: mean!character

glass of water: aftercare

chocolate milk: tenderness

milkshake: size kink

pina colada: pregnancy

cider: body worship

mai tai: loss of virginity

margarita: unprotected sex

mint julep: punishments

chai: biting/hickies

earl grey: big cock

fishbowl cocktail: protected sex

tonic water: age gap

matcha latte: collars/bondage

root beer: filming/recording

soda: jealousy

americano: oral sex

whisky: degrading language

vitamin water: dom/sub dynamic

irish coffee: high sex

sangria: drunk sex

dark roast coffee: sub!character

dark hot chocolate: sub!reader

iced tea: accidentally launching relationship

lemon water: university/college au

naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader

on the house: author's choice!

ORDER UP!

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 23

23rd — double penetration, Lewis - Charles

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

“Are you sure about this baby?” Charles and Lewis’s voices overlapped each other.

“I’m sure… Please…”

Your breath came out in short, erratic bursts as you straddled Charles, his cock buried deep inside you. Lewis watched you bounce on his cock from behind while he stroked himself until you had a new proposition in mind. Both men were stunned to stillness when you stopped and asked something new of them.

“Please,” you repeated as you turned over your shoulder and looked at Lewis, “I want you both inside me at the same time.”

Charles and Lewis shared a look before Charles caressed your hips, “Alright,” he whispered and waited until you turned back toward him to continue, “But if it gets too much, you say the word and we’ll stop. Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

A bright smile lit up your face as you leaned forward and kissed Charles hard, “Deal.”

You pushed yourself up and turned toward Lewis again so you could place a similar kiss on his lips.

“You sure you can handle us both, baby?” Lewis asked with a smirk.

Charles rolled his eyes but you thought it was cute, “Oh I know I can,” you replied in a low purr that made both your boys swallow hard.

As Charles caressed your hips, you lifted yourself up so that only the tip of his cock stayed inside you. He let out a low moan at the feeling of your muscles straining around the tip as you kept yourself hovering over him. His hands trailed up your sides to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples while Lewissettled himself behind you.

“Alright, here I come, babies,” Lewis’s voice was low, and even through his humour you heard the lust in his tone. You knew both your boys wanted this just as badly as you did. 

Slowly, Lewis nudged his cock against your entrance, and he hissed when his length rubbed against Charles’s. He was more precise than he usually was as he was careful not to hurt you. But, Lewis also couldn’t deny that feeling both of his lovers this close at the same time was exhilarating. 

Suddenly, Lewis remembered something, “Hang on,” he rustled behind you and both you and Charles let out low whines at the loss. You turned your gaze to Charles, who lay still underneath you and your heart skipped a beat when you looked into his big, soft brown eyes.

“Back,” Lewis exclaimed behind you as he settled back into place. You were about to ask what he did when you heard the pop of the lube bottle.

Charles let out a low hiss when he felt the cool lube spill onto his cock. You watched his every little expression as you leaned forward slightly and prepared yourself for what was to come. Lewisgenerously coated his dick in the lube, and made sure to spill some onto Charles’s as well. Slick sounds echoed in the room as he rubbed his length a few times.

Lewis reached out with his lube-coated hand and wrapped it around the base of Charles’s cock. He groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head, the combination of your warmth around the head and Lewis’s hand stocking the base was almost overwhelming in the best way.

“There,” Lewiscooed, “Now we’re ready.”

You chuckled softly, “I’m ready, boys.”

Charles cleared his throat as he regained control of his head, “Ready,” he grunted.

You felt two pairs of strong hands holding your body, Charles’s on your breasts and Lewis’s on your hips. The two men caressed your body as they moved slowly and precisely as if they were back on the field and every moment mattered. To them, this was even more important than fighting for their lives, this was your life, your body. You meant so much to Lewis and Charles, and they wanted this moment to be everything you wanted it to be.

Slowly, Lewis guided his cock to your pussy once more, and all three of you gasped when you all made contact with each other. Lewis’s cock rubbed against Charles as both of their tips nudged at your entrance. Your mouth dropped open as you let out a loud cry when the second cock finally pushed past your first ring of muscle.

The stretch was unlike anything you had felt before in your life. It burned and brought tears to your eyes, but it also felt wonderful. To be filled by both of your boys was a euphoria that compared to nothing else. Both Lewis and Charles tightened their grip on you as you inched your way down onto both of their cocks bit by bit.

“Oh fuck,” Charles hissed as he felt the combination of your warmth and Lewis’s length.

Lewis groaned your names while his cock pulsed with need, and it took every fibre of his being to hold himself back at that moment. You moaned and cried out as you felt yourself stretched to the limit, and your mind swam in the pleasure and the slight pain it brought.

After what felt like hours, you finally seated yourself on Charles’s hips once again, your pussy filled to the brim from both him and Lewis. You breathed heavily as you rested your hands on Charles’s chest while the two men ran their hands all over your body. You weren’t sure whose hands were where you felt your breasts and ass squeezed at the same time while one of them rubbed at your clit.

“Oh fuck, holy shit,” you whispered as you adjusted to the feeling.

“You alright, baby?” you weren’t sure whose voice it was, perhaps it was both of them.

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, “Now fuck me, boys.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The two men worked in perfect harmony as he carefully reeled back just enough so they were halfway out of you before they thrust back in at the same time. You screamed in pleasure as they got bolder with their thrusts as you surrendered yourself to your lovers. They pulled back once again and pushed back in, and again you cried out in pure bliss.

Confident that you weren’t hurt, Charles and Lewis got bolder with their movements and began to thrust in and out of you in a faster rhythm. The two moved in perfect harmony as they filled you together over and over again. The feeling of all three of you together was beyond compare, and no words could describe that emotion that you all felt. Much like your first night together, the three of you just fell into place perfectly without much effort needed.

As they fucked you faster and harder, your skin tingled and heated up with the build of your climax. The hands that caressed and pleasured your body only added to the feelings, and when they filled you once more, you screamed out loudly.

“Fuck… Charles… Lewis… You guys are gonna make me cum!”

Growls from either side of you went right to your core as the hand that rubbed at your clit worked faster. Skin slapped against skin from multiple angles, and sweat lined your brow as your body warmed from the ecstasy.

With one final push, you finally fell apart as you came hard. Your entire body trembled and threatened to fall over, but the two pairs of strong arms never let that happen. The two men continued to pump themselves in and out of you until tears fell down your face.

They shifted themselves slightly so that you fell forward on top of Charles’s chest and Lewislaid out on your back. Lewis and Charles met over your shoulder, and they both knew that the other was close as well. Without a word needed, they locked lips in a passionate kiss while they snapped their hips against yours and each other until they too fell over the edge.

Charles swallowed the groan that Lewis let out as they both came at the same time, filling you even more to the brim. You whimpered as a shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the unbelievable feeling.

Once all three of you had no more to give, Lewis rolled over, quickly pulling out of you in the process. You let out a yelp at the sudden feeling and you lunged forward so that Charles’s cock also slipped out of you. 

You landed right in between Charles and Lewis, and the two of them immediately wrapped their arms around you. You tangled yourself with them both as you all made yourselves comfortable in your pile of limbs and emotions. No one said anything for several minutes; all of you needed to catch your breath.

It was Charles who spoke first, “You alright baby?” He asked as he peppered and kissed along the side of your face.

“Fucking amazing,” you replied breathlessly.

“Lew?” Charles looked over.

Lewis kept his eyes closed, but a silly grin stayed plastered on his face, “What she said.”

You couldn't help but burst into laughter, and the two boys quickly dissolved into laughter too. You reached over and gave Lewis a soft kiss before you turned and did the same to Charles, “Thank you both,” you whispered.

Taglist:@formula1-motogpfan@iamafootballfanmiasanmia@arian-directioner@annimausi@mythicalmaven@lucycowr@hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119

[leclerity]

stupid gets you killed

Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you have an emotional conversation after his reckless driving at a race. a/n: a short but angsty one, with a happy ending!

It could’ve been the end.

The way it felt, it almost was.

You watch as the red of the Ferrari and the green of the Aston Martin come close, inches apart, with Stroll nearly putting it in the back of your boyfriend’s car. Everyone around you gasps and for a split second, you see them touch and Charles’s car fly off into the grandstands – but that doesn’t happen. They don’t touch. Charles drives away unscathed, though you know that won’t be the end of it.

“That was too close,” says Arthur, shaking his head at the screen.

“He won’t like this too much,” you say and grab a pair of headphones lying around, listening in.

Everything is okay with the car, Bryan Bozzi says.

That was not okay! Charles screams. Who does he think he is?! Driving like an idiot… He should know better!

Keep your head calm, you’ve got forty laps to go.

You take off the headphones and tell Arthur what you just overheard. He shakes his head again, but you both know there’s nothing the two of you can do about it. Charles has been under pressure, ready to burst at any given moment, running second in the championship with maybe—maybe—a chance at something more. Anything that threatens it… Well, it throws him off.

You’re just waiting for the moment it happens.

The race keeps running, you listen in to the radio every so often, and his complaints and agitation are getting more obvious. He’s driving riskier, not caring enough about tyre management, and there’s a few moments when his car gets a little too close to another car.

He finishes in fourth. It’s not where he wanted to be but it’s better than out of the race, you tell yourself. There was a few moments where you held your breath, waiting to see if the anger is going to slip into careless mistakes, and it made you angry. Your boyfriend is better than this.

When he finishes the race, you run straight into his arms. “You did so well! I’m proud of you.”

“I could’ve done better,” he says.

“I know,” you say, and kiss him again. “Next time.”

Charles kisses you, too, before going to speak to others in the garage, keeping one eye on you at all times. You know he’s being hard on himself, but you see his clenched jaw, sunken shoulders, and you know this is going to be a tougher one than usual.

He’s in your orbit the most of the evening, glancing at you even when he’s in the media pen. You can hear some of the questions he’s being asked and a lot of them are about the incident and about his dangerous driving he nearly got a penalty for, and you can already hear the regret in his voice. He looks at you every time it comes up, as if he already knows how much it upset you.

At your side, Arthur gives you a nudge. “Are you going to talk some sense into him when you’re back at the hotel?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“That was scary.”

You nod. “Too scary. I get the pressure and all, but…”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, “I don’t want to feel like I might lose my brother because he’s being angry and stupid.”

When you get home, you get dinner – he does the perfunctory celebrations and goes back to the hotel, where you’re waiting with him with your guys’ favourite takeaway. He had some time to hang out with the other drivers and now it’s time to hang out with you… But not before you give him a piece of mind.

He knows something’s wrong the moment he enters the hotel room.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you say.

He frowns. “Okay. You sure?”

You give him a long look.

Charles sits down next to you, looking exhausted but ready to devour the food – but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits with his elbows on his knees, hands held together. “It’s the race.”

“Mhm.”

“That’s why you’re giving me attitude.”

“Mhm.”

“Is it because of the Stroll incident?”

You shake your head. He should know better and he does, it will just take him a moment.

He sighs and leans into the couch, a defeated look on his face. “I should’ve handled it better, right?”

“Yeah.” You put a hand on his thigh. “Driving like that, Charles… You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I would’ve been fine.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Babe—”

“Don’t babe me,” you say, shaking your head. “You got angry and…. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.”

Charles opens his mouth and closes it, knowing fair well that there’s nothing he could say in his defence that would make you change your mind. He sees it all on your face, you know it – the terror you’d gone through waiting to see if his anger will make him slip up, make a mistake; the threat of losing him.

He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, before placing it on his chest, right where his heart is. “Y/N,” he says, gently. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me.”

“I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“It frightens me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I just—The thought of you—”

“I know. C’mere.”

Charles gives your hand a gentle tug and then your head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you warm and safe. “I’m sorry for scaring you. My job is scary, but I shouldn’t make it any more difficult than it already is.”

He kisses the top of your head and you feel a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and he holds you even tighter.

“I’ll be less angry next time, I promise,” he whispers. “Less stupid. For you. Okay?”

You nod instead of answering, and he pulls your chin up with a gentle finger, and then he’s wiping your tears and kissing you gently, promising over and over again to never make you feel like that again – and he doesn’t.

[ghostsslutss]

welcome to my bar. whatcha ya feeling tonight? vodka? wine? or just apple juice. look at the menu and place ur order in the inbox.

credits to @bunnys-kisses x

𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

lando norris

max verstappen

fernando alonso

charles leclerc

carlos sainz

alex albon

franco colapinto

lewis hamilton

george rusell

ollie bearmen

arthur leclerc

joost klein

ski aggu

reece welsh

jordan riki

simon ghost riley

john mctavish

phillip graves

alejandro ganarcho

jude belligham

neymar jr

matt murdock

jason todd pop

nightwing

moon knight

vladimir makarov

toto wolf

homelander

billy butcher

the deep

a train

konig

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄

vodka soda - “your boyfriend wont fuck you like this”

rum and coke - “hm what was that again? speak up little one

gin and tonic - “such a good girl. aren’t you. my pretty little puppy.”

whiskey sour - “{dirty talk in their language}”

margarita - “remember, I am in complete control. your pleasure and pain are mine to give.”

mojito - “please ive been a good boy..”

long island iced tea - “fuck your going to get us caught one day aren’t you.”

tequila sunrise - “let me take care of you, let me lead, and you'll enjoy the ride.”

martini - “whos daddy’s little slut?”

cosmopolitan - “beautiful , beautiful thing aren’t you.”

daiquiri - “shut it- shut up.”

piña colada - “be quiet they will hear us.”

old fashioned - “wonder what your father think about this.”

negroni - “I'll do anything to please you, master. Just tell me what you want.”

aperol spritz - “you will address me as 'Sir' or 'Master'. is that clear?”

moscow mule - “you'll wear this collar as a symbol of your submission to me.”

paloma - “tell me your safe word, pet. I need to know your limits.”

mai tai - “thank you for the punishment. I needed it.”

amaretto sour - “please.. just let me cum.”

caipirinha - “oh fuck , your driving me crazy.”

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁?

fabric (loss of virginity)

berghain (pregancy)

space (sugar daddy au)

hï ibiza (semi to public sex)

ministry of sound (enemies to lovers)

pacha (cheating)

privilege (dom x sub)

dc10 (intoxicated sex)

amnesia (university au)

printworks (alternative au)

output (age gap)

watergate (unprotected sex)

zouk (omegaverse)

exchange la (recording)

the warehouse project (phone sex)

studio 338 (pet play)

kitkatclub (cnc)

marquee (vanilla)

cavo paradiso (car sex)

liv (dirty talk)

avant gardner (gentle sex)

warung beach club (rough sex)

drai’s (mean!drink)

tunnel (aftercare)

rex club (size kink)

cielo (doggy style)

sub club (breeding kink)

egg london (cock warming)

sound nightclub (mafia au)

tresor (dumbfication)

𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒?

fries (character x character x you)

onion rings (creator picks kinks: may be dead dove)

mozzarella sticks (creator chooses drink and club)

chips and salsa (extra spicy smut)

guacamole (more comforting smut)

[ln4bub]

Charles possessive and jealous, SMUT 🔥

The sound of your laughter streams through the Ferrari garage as Charles returns from FP1. It’d been a good session for him, finally proving his capabilities at driving the nightmare that was the SF-23. All he wanted was for you to greet him with a hug, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a soft 'well done!' But you were nowhere to be found.

Charles stalks through the garage, eyebrows furrowed, following the melody of your giggles. His eyes narrow as he sees you, crouched next to a frustrated Carlos, hand perched over his arm. The logical part of Charles' brain knows you're just being the angel that you are, comforting Carlos after his horror crash out of FP1. But the jealous part of him is screaming, zeroing in on your hand wrapped around Carlos' wrist, a hand that belongs to him. He exhales a sharp breath through his nose before joining the pair of you.

Carlos is first to look up, "Hey man, you looked fast out there. Sorry I ended up cutting the session so short." He apologises, looking down at the ground. "No worries mate, hope they get the car fixed for you." Charles replies, patting Carlos on the back. "Mon cherie, can I borrow you?" Charles asks, extending his hand to you. You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion before slotting your hand in his. He pulls you up from your crouching position before practically dragging you into his drivers' room.

"What's u-" You start to ask, unable to finish your sentence as Charles slams the door before pushing you up against it. He stares at you with thunderous eyes, "My own teammate? Really? You had to touch my own teammate?" He asks, scoffing under his breath. His deft fingers brush a strand of her behind your ear, his eyes following the movement of his hand before flicking to your lips.

"He was upset. I was just comforting him." You explain, frustrated at Charles for not seeing that. "I know you were, mon amour, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that you touched him. That your soft hands were on someone other than me." He connects his right hand with yours that had been laying limp on your side, dragging it up above your head. You move your left hand to join it and Charles slots his hand over your wrists. "Good girl." He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You should know by now that you don't get to touch anyone else Y/N, and so now you don't even get to touch me." His hand slides up your thigh, caressing the soft skin. He cups his hand over your panties, letting his middle finger apply pressure. "You're so wet already, mon cherie. And it's all for me isn't it?" He asks sweetly, "Your pussy is all mine." His middle finger applies pressure to your clit, causing your hips to stutter and a soft whine to fall from your lips.

"Shut up." He mutters, slapping your inner thigh. "You're going to stand here and take it, just like I tell you to, and then you're going to walk back out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs.” His fingers slip under your panties, stroking through the pool of wetness collecting between your legs. ‘And why are you going to do that, mi belle?” He questions.

“Because you own me.” You whine, desperately pressing your hips down onto Charles’ fingers. He slips his middle finger inside you, groaning at the feeling of your warmth. “You always feel so good, why can’t you act like it?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck. You feel him nibble, the gentle pain shooting sparks down your body. You arch your back into him, moaning a little too loudly. “That’s it baby, let everyone in this garage know who you belong to.” He mutters, curling his fingers against your walls.

His lips continue their mission, sucking a purple bruise into your neck. The sensation pushes you closer to the edge, your walls contracting around Charles’ fingers.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Yes, please Charles, please let me cum.” You moan out, whimpering as he removes his finger from you. He holds your face, digging his fingers lightly into your cheek. Bringing his glistening finger to his lips you’re forced to watch as Charles sucks your juices from his finger with a groan.

“Bend over.”

Before you can even comprehend it Charles turns you around, forcing your ass back into his hard cock. Pulling himself out of his racing suit, he slams into you, groaning at the sensation.

“My good girl aren’t you baby? All fucking mine.” He growls in your ear, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock harder. “You belong to me, and I want everyone to know it.” Charles states, slapping your ass with his free hand. You shriek in surprise, your walls clenching down on his cock.

“There we go baby that’s it, no one else makes you feel this good and no one ever will.” Charles groans, finally reaching around to rub your clit. You moan, eyes rolling back at the shockwaves rushing through your body. Sweat begins to form on Charles’ hairline as your thighs start shaking for the position you are in. “Come on baby, I know you’re close, cum for me. I want to feel it.”

That simple command is all it takes for you to fall apart, knees buckling as you’re hit with a mind numbing orgasm. Your moaning is soon drowned out by Charles’ groans as he stills inside you, pumping you full of his cum as promised. “So fucking good, oh my god.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He pulls his cock from your pussy, admiring the way his milky white cum drips from your lips, staining your thighs. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, “You are mine, and I love you.” You smile softly at the gesture, “I love you too Charles.” His dimple emerges at your words, cheeks reddened with his previous exertions.

He clicks the door open, leading you out proudly with your hand in his. Everyone watches the way the pair of you exit his drivers’ room as if nothing happened, but only Carlos notices what’s running down your thigh.

——————————

A/N

This is the first smut I’ve written for F1 and been happy to publish, I hope it’s good enough <3

[lovemomhatepolice]

holly jolly christmas! 24' (STARTING 01.12)

navigation taglist requests

hey! i know it's only november, but i'm already fully prepared for christmas and gathering strength for the marathon :)

i have many ideas, but I will gladly accept requests in the inbox! (also accepts smut, BUT WITH CHRISTMAS PLOT)

below I leave prompts (by @novelbear , @lunememes, @me-writes-prompts) that you can send me with the character you want! (I accept orders for Outer Banks and actors from it, footballers, Formula 1 drivers, Harry Potter, Marvel and Maneskin)

1. holiday scenarios by novelbear 2. holiday scenarios by lunememes

3. holiday scenarios by me-writes-prompts

~

grinchy [jj maybank]

2. do you want to build a snowman? [drew starkey]

3. mistletoe [oscar piastri]

4. welcome to lapland! [rafe cameron]

5. skating lessons [theodore nott]

6. fireplace [max verstappen]

7. snowy kisses [franco colapinto]

8. christmas prank [george weasley]

9. snowball fight [fred weasley]

10. searching home [sirius black]

11. mariah careey [carlos sainz]

12. chef’s house [lando norris]

13. red marks [mattheo riddle]

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24. like one big family [lando norris]

25. present perfect [charles leclerc]

26.

27.

28.

29. hot chocolate [lorenzo berkshire]

30. warm you up [theodore nott]

31. happy new year!

[ssentimentals]

okay ik i said it would be the last in my last request but i have two more in my mind so bare with me.... prompt 21 and 17 from the soft prompts with Charles Leclerc!! it just struck to me yk him making his own ice cream brand and all i feel like this will be superb

no pls i love your requests :(( and this is one is so thoughtful!! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'you can call me whever you want, even if you don't have a reason to.' 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite.'

you knew that charles was on a shooting for his LEC ice cream, you knew. and it's an important thing, something he always wanted and you knew better than to distract him from the work... but. but you two haven't seen each other in almost two weeks and you just missed your boyfriend too much: clothes he left don't smell like him anymore, his text messages are not enough and you miss him, his presence, his voice, everything. there surely must be some breaks during the shooting, right? what if you get lucky and call right in the middle of one? biting your lower lip, you spend few minutes thinking this over until you finally give in, pressing call and holding your breath till a very familiar voice doesn't answer with: 'yes, my love?'

'charles,' you breathe out and it comes out whiny without you meaning it to.

'what's wrong?' charles immediately asks, urgency clear in his voice. he can't see your face and this whine did not sound like your usual cute-and-bratty whine. this one sounded more like i-am-sad whine and it gets him worried: 'are you okay, amour?'

you shake your head before remembering that he can't see you; with a sigh, you quickly respond to soothe his nerves: 'nothing-nothing. i'm sorry for calling!'

something rustles in the background and then there's a sound of door opening and closing. this time when charles speaks to you, he sounds much closer and louder: 'why are you sorry? you can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. but everything is okay, yes?'

'yes, it is. sorry, babe, i just missed you and wanted to call,' you confess, pouting even if he can't see. 'i thought i'd get lucky and catch you during the break.'

'you are lucky, cause it's exactly break time,' charles says, smiling. it's a lie - you called right in the middle of the photoshoot and he asked everyone to wait but what you don't know can't hurt you.

'then just few minutes with me and you can go back to your favorite ice cream,' you decide, smiling. 'how is it going so far?'

charles smiles, leaning on the wall. your cuteness will one day be the death of him, but today is not that day. it warms his heart that you are this open about your feelings and can just call when you miss him - he should learn a thing or two from you in that regard. 'between ice cream and you, you might be my favorite,' he confesses to you secretly, smiling when he hears your laughter.

'sweet talker,' you accuse with fondness. 'you probably have to go, yeah? go, i don't want to keep everyone waiting. have fun, babe! i can't wait to see it all!'

'and here i thought you can't wait to see me,' charles teases. 'i'll be back home soon, okay? don't start dinner without me.'

'bring ice cream!' you shout and charles laughs, going back to the studio.

'only ice cream?'

'bring yourself too,' you mutter with a small smile. 'i love you.'

'i love you too, amour.' charles whispers back. 'see you soon.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (48/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Time to say goodbye.

Warnings: 18+ (fingering, boob sucking, slight anal play, mentions of sex), fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: thank you all for your patience and kind words. I don't know what I'd do without you. I promise I'll be better in the future. I love you. feedback is appreciated.

The first thing you feel is the warm embrace and warm hands brushing through your hair. Still half asleep, you feel the gentle pressure on your head, and Charles slowly and lovingly scratches your scalp as if he wants to wake you up gently. 

Your eyes open just a crack before you decide to close them again and take a deep breath. Charles' chest is against your back, the heat of his skin burning through the shirt you're wearing. His arm is wrapped tightly around your middle and he's lying so close to you, with his head on your pillow and your legs entwined, that you don't know where your body ends and his begins. 

His touch is so familiar, so gentle and reassuring that you would almost fall asleep again if he didn't whisper in your ear.

“Good morning,” he breathes into your shoulder, his lips brushing your naked skin. His hand, which is not running through your hair, slowly slides under your shirt to press you even closer to him. ”How did you sleep, mon amour?”

You take a deep breath and snuggle closer to him. “Not long enough,” you reply in a sleepy voice. Tired, you stretch your head in his direction so that he can continue to massage your scalp. “Have you been awake for long?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not too long,” he replies, weaving his fingers through your hair. “But long enough to enjoy your company before I have to get up and pack my bags.” He presses his nose against your cheek before gently kissing your temple. 

You smile sleepily. “How about you? How did you sleep?”

Slowly, his hand moves up from your belly, his thumb gently stroking the curve of your breast, while his fingers linger on your ribs. “I dreamt of you,” he answers softly, his lips on your neck. He presses his hips against your ass so you can feel his erection. 

Oh, boy. 

Your pussy throbs as he nibs at the soft skin of your neck. You gasp silently, arching towards him. “And what exactly did you dream?” You reach out and grab his hair to press his face against you. 

His fingers on your ribs spread and move to your bare chest. “You and me. At training camp,” he begins to describe his dream, while his thumb and index finger gently roll your nipple. 

Slightly confused, you turn your head in his direction, your noses nudging each other. “At training camp? Please don't tell me we actually went through your training schedule there.

His green eyes sparkle in the morning light. His hand moves a little further and turns you completely around to face him, his fingers grasp the flesh of your thigh and pull it over his hip so that he can press his hard-on against your barely-clad heat. “Don't worry, mon amour,” he breathes. “We didn't follow my training schedule. But –”

“But what?” You put your hand on his cheek, the stubble pleasantly scratching the palm of your hand. You curl your leg a little tighter around his waist. 

A grin spreads across his beautiful face. “We were still physically active,” he admits, sliding his hand higher up your leg, under the hem of his boxer briefs, which you are wearing. Charles leans forward a bit and kisses the tip of your nose, your cheek, your neck. His teeth brush against your pulse and goosebumps spread across your body. 

Heat rises to your cheeks as his fingers trail over your ass, as if it were the most natural movement in the world. As if you had been a couple for ages. His touch is so familiar that you practically melt away. 

You can't even imagine what the next few days would be like without him. What you're supposed to do here without him, without your roommate. Without your best friend. Without the man you love. 

As his fingers slide between your thighs and he gently brushes his fingertips against your lips before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, so making you whimper, the alarm on his cell phone goes off. Grumbling and annoyed, he pulls his hand out of your pants before licking his fingers briefly and rolling onto his back. He reaches back to turn off the alarm. Sighing, he grabs you and pulls you onto him. 

Surprised and aroused, you look down at him. “What –”

“I don't want to get up,” he complains, wrapping his arms around your back so that you couldn't get off him even if you wanted to. Which will never be the case in your life. Hell will freeze over before you voluntarily let go of Charles. ”Can't we just lie here and pretend the alarm never went off?”

Your head is on his neck, where you leave feather-light kisses on his warm skin. “That would be nice,” you agree with him and reach out to run your hand through his hair. 

Charles groans softly. “We can pretend, you know? I just don't go to training camp and we both spend the next few days together here, only leaving the bed when we have to, and we don't have to go without each other for a long, miserable time. And then we can go to Kika's New Year's party together instead of only seeing each other there.”

You giggle. “Sounds like a solid plan,” you reply quietly. “But I'm afraid that at some point you gave Andrea a key to this apartment and he would definitely be standing in front of our bed if you weren't standing downstairs on time with your things, dressed and ready to leave.”

His arms tighten around you. “Our bed?” He asks with a grin and raised eyebrows. 

The heat rises to your cheeks again. “Well, you said that you – that we –” You take a deep breath. “You said that we wouldn't sleep apart anymore. And so I thought –”

“I'm only messing with you,“ he smiles and kisses your forehead. ‘This is our bed. In our bedroom. In our apartment," he assures you and lets his fingers slide under your shirt again. Warm fingertips gently press into your spine, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You feel his hard and demanding bulge twitching against your stomach. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.“ You kiss his neck one last time before sitting up. His arms come off you and fall at his side, while your knees press into the mattress next to his hips as you sit up. ”Come on.” You reach for his hand and pull him into a sitting position as well. ”You have to get up.”

Immediately, his arms wrap around your torso again, pressing you against him and positioning you so that your legs can wrap around his hips. You sit straddling his lap and feel his boner against your pussy as his hands roam over your heated body again. 

“I don't want to get up,” he repeats as he leans forward and begins to nibble on your neck. As his lips reach your pulse and he gently sucks on your skin there, you involuntarily rub against him. 

“Charles,” you breathe, hands on his naked shoulders, fingernails digging into his back as he begins rocking you back and forth. ”You have to.”

His fingers grasp the hem of your shirt and without thinking, you raise your arms so that he can pull it over your head. “Says who?” he asks, raising his eyebrow as he throws the garment on the floor. He pulls you close again, fingers sliding into your briefs and kneading your ass as his lips glide hotly across your front. 

Your fingers dig into his hair as his mouth closes around your nipple and he begins to suck. “Oh fuck,” you moan, pressing his face closer to you as you arch towards him. His hands slide deeper into your boxer shorts, digging into your flesh and spreading you a little further for him. “Charles.”

Your best friend lets go of your nipple, but only to suck a hickey into the soft skin next to it. “I know.” As the spot darkens, his mouth slides further and his lips close around your other tit, coaxing another gasp from your lips. His sucks hard, making your head reel and arousal pool in your boxer briefs. 

One of his hands slides lower, fingertips circling your clit before lazily rubbing. You twitch in his hold, your pussy still sensitive from the orgasms he gave you last night, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You buck your hips into his hand as his fingers close around your nub, toying with it like they did with your nipple a few minutes ago. 

Sparks run through your veins, setting you on fire, burning you to ashes at his touch. 

„My girl“, he moans against your tit, tongue flicking against the bud before sucking again. When you twitch once more, legs trembling slightly, he moves his fingers away from your clit. 

„No, please“, you whine in protest, wanting him closer, wanting more. Wanting him. 

Charles looks up at you, pupils blown and the green almost vanished from his eyes. „Please what? You’re too sensitive, mon amour“, he teases you, fingers sliding further, collecting your juices. When you slightly wince at the overstimulation when he pushes his fingers inside, he kisses your tit, bevore gently biting your neck. „It’s okay. I know what you need.“

He keeps his fingers buried inside you, gently massaging your walls and rubbing against that sweet spot that has you seeing stars, while his other hand catches your slickness thats dribbling out of you. They move up, wedging themselves between your ass cheeks and carefully circling your other hole, wetting it slightly. 

Your brain short-circuits as you realize his intentions. Your head lulls against his shoulder, eyes closed as you huff out hot breaths against his skin. „Charles.“

„Tell me to stop and I will“, he whispers, his clothed erection rubbing against your clit. „I promise.“ 

You weakly shake your head. „Want you“, you whine, moving your hips back slightly against his hand, against his fingers. „Want all of you.“

„You have me“, he promises quietly, almost inaudibly. „You have all of me.“ 

You want to kill somebody when his alarm goes off again. 

With a defeated sigh Charles pulls his hands out of your briefs while you go and grab his phone, turning the alarm off once more. You reluctantly slide off his lap, annoyed that he actually has to get up and ready and pack his bags. 

He looks at you apologetically and kisses your cheek. „I’m sorry, mon amour. Next time“, he smiles slightly before getting up from the bed, sticking his hand in his boxers to squeeze his dick once like it’s normal for you to see that. He then grabs a few things and leaves your shared bedroom while you fall down back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

Since when have you been so open to sex that you don't even mind what almost happened? When you were with Raphael, you didn't even change in front of him – not even after you had been together for a while. And now you're lying here in the bed you share with your best friend, letting him touch you and even reaching out to him when he rubbed your  –

Sighing, you grab a pillow and press it to your face.

How pathetic do you want to be? A virgin who is in love with her best friend, who certainly doesn't feel the same way about you, but with whom you still share a bed and even allow him to touch you?

There's no way you would have let Raphael touch you like that. But Charles isn't Raphael, so you push your thoughts aside.

Being with Charles feels natural, as if you were made to be by his side. It's so easy, even though somewhere inside you still have this queasy feeling that if you let it continue, it won't end well.

But how could it not end well if it feels so good?

“What are you doing?” Charles asks when he returns to the bedroom. He grabs the pillow on your face and puts it aside. He smiles down at you. "You're not trying to suffocate yourself, are you? It's just a few days that you have to get along without me," he jokes, grinning, and takes three steps back as you throw the pillow in his direction.

“You're unbelievable, “ you say and roll your eyes, but you can't suppress your own smile. You watch him pack some sports clothes into a large bag. ”Do you really not have much time to talk to me on the phone?”

Charles, who is folding two T-shirts and putting them neatly in the side of the bag, apparently hears the disappointed tone in your voice, which is why he looks at you and tilts his head to the side. “I know it's not ideal. And I wish it was different,” he begins, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He gently strokes your hair. "I hate leaving you here alone. I hate that my work takes up so much of my free time." He takes a deep breath. ”I hate that you're here waiting for me to come home.”

You take his hand and kiss the back of his hand before interlocking your fingers. The whole thing seems to be weighing on him, which is why you have to be the strong one for both of you at this moment.

You smile at him. “Don't worry. I'll ask Kika if she has time for me over the next few days. After all, I still need a nice dress for New Year's Eve and she sent me a video on Instagram of a shop where you can paint ceramics. And a restaurant where you can have a drink while you're brunching,” you explain. ”I think Pierre is at training too. And then I can help her with the party preparations.”

Your words seem to calm him a little. He presses your hand against his chest. “If you go shopping, take my credit card with you. I don't want you to spend your money when I have so much of it that I don't know what to do with it. You can also go to Maman's. Or Enzo and Charlotte. Or you –” he suggests in quick succession.

You interrupt him. “I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me,” you assure him with a smile. “And in a few days we'll see each other again and then we'll party like there's no tomorrow on New Year's Eve. What do you think?” You waggle your eyebrows a little, which makes him laugh.

He leans down to you so that your noses touch. “What did I do to deserve you?” He asks quietly and kisses your forehead before straightening up and standing up to pack the rest of his things. He squats on the floor in front of the closet, pulling out clothes that he either puts in his bag or puts back on the shelves.

Since you don't want to bother him, you quietly slip out of bed and get ready for the day, before you text Kika and ask if she would like to go dress shopping for her party today, to which she sends you a two-minute voice message telling you which websites she has already scoured and which stores you should both go to so that you definitely find the best dresses for you.

You are sitting at the kitchen counter, all ready and dressed, eating some fruit when Charles joins you. He reaches around you and grabs a piece of apple, which he slides into his mouth without saying a word, before walking around the kitchen island and making himself a cup of coffee.

“When is Andrea coming?“ you ask him, holding out another piece, which he gratefully accepts.

“He should be here any minute now,” he replies, leaning against the worktop in front of you. “By the way, I was serious when I said that you should take my card and buy yourself a nice dress for New Year's Eve.”

You sigh. “Charles, I – you know I don't feel comfortable accepting this.” Hesitantly, you take a bite of your pear.

“That's true, “ he admits and drinks the rest of his coffee before rinsing the cup in the sink. ”But you also know that I like to use my money to buy you nice things. And what better way to start the new year than with a new dress?”

With you. Naked in our bed. On top of me. Inside me. Telling me how much you love me. 

You swallow hard and immediately push the thought aside. “You better be careful, Charlie. If you keep spending so much money on me, people might think you're my sugar daddy,” you joke, but you can't miss the dark flicker in his eyes.

“Don't worry, mon amour,” he smiles, standing next to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and examining the slight love bite he left on your neck. "You can have my money. I don't need it as long as I have you," he replies quietly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “If you wear a new dress on New Year's Eve but my bank balance hasn't changed by then, we'll spend a lot less time at Kika's party than you'd like,” he warns you. The kiss he gently presses on your temple is soft and loving, in contrast to his tone of voice.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When the doorbell rings, Charles moves away from you. With long strides, he goes to the front door and presses a button so that Andrea can use the elevator. Without saying a word, you follow him into the hallway, where several bags are already waiting to be loaded into a car.

“Good morning,” Andrea greets you both with a smile. He gives you a little kiss on both cheeks before grabbing two bags. "I'm really looking forward to the training camp. This time, I've picked out a few things that are just designed to drive you mad" he grins at the Monegasque, before looking at you. “And don't even think about texting or calling him. Not that your messages would get through somehow, but I think his brain can only focus on one thing at a time and as soon as he thinks of you, I can forget about training.”

“Andrea,” Charles warns his friend sharply, as if he had just revealed one of the biggest secrets in the world.

The trainer laughs. “Don't act like that. I know exactly what's going on here. I'm not blind,” he grins and leans forward to look at you. “Nice hickey, by the way,” he says nonchalantly, turning around and leaving the apartment the way he came in.

And leaving behind two best friends who don't know what to say about it.

Charles is the first to make a sound. He clears his throat. “Um, okay. I have to go, otherwise I'll get in trouble,” he explains and stands in front of you. Hesitantly, he raises his hands and places them on your cheeks to tilt your head back a bit so you can look at him. “I'll miss you.”

You can feel his warm breath on your face, he's that close to you. “I'll miss you too. Send me photos or something when you can. I don't know exactly when you can get on your phone, but when you can – I mean –”

“I promise I'll get in touch with you. Even if it means buying a second cell phone and hiding it from Andrea,” he smiles, stroking your cheekbones with his thumb. ”I don't know how I'll last without you. And especially for several days.”

You shrug helplessly. “I don't know either,” you reply. “But after that, nothing can separate us. Then you won't get rid of me,” you dare to say, your heart beating in your throat. You turn your head and kiss his palm lovingly. “Deal?”

He leans his forehead against yours. ”Deal.”

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc (3/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as charles fights for his life, his wife faces the hardest decision: let go or fight for him. a small miracle gives hope for recovery.

୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional, again ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1676

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say that the hardest part of love is knowing when to let go. The decision to hold on is easy—it’s the decision to release, to trust that the other person will be okay without you, that’s the hard part.

You’ve been sitting in the sterile, white hospital room for hours, each minute feeling like a year. Charles’s body is hooked up to so many machines, monitors flashing with numbers that seem foreign to you. His face, once so full of life, now looks pale, bruised, and still. They told you to prepare yourself for the worst, but you haven’t let yourself believe it. Not yet.

Not while there's still hope.

You’re not even sure what you're hoping for anymore. Some miracle, maybe. But deep down, you know the odds. They’ve been giving you the numbers—stats you can’t quite process, numbers you can’t make sense of. His condition is critical, and they’ve told you, over and over again, that his survival chances are slim. His organs are struggling, his internal injuries severe. The brain scans were grim at first, showing little to no activity.

But you can’t let yourself fall into that darkness. Not yet.

The room feels too cold, too empty.

"How are his stats?" you ask quietly, though you already know the answer.

The nurse glances at you, her face trying to remain neutral. "Not good. His heart rate’s been fluctuating. His oxygen levels aren’t improving, either. We’re doing what we can, but his body’s fighting against us." She hesitates, looking back at the monitors. "We’re not sure how much longer we can keep him stable."

You nod, feeling the weight of every word, but you can’t give up. Not yet.

Minutes turn into hours. You stay by his side, holding his hand, whispering to him. Every time you speak, you tell him how much you love him, how much you need him to come back. You’re not sure if he can hear you, but it doesn’t matter. You need him to know.

And then, just as you’re beginning to feel the overwhelming weight of your decision, something unexpected happens.

The steady beep of the heart monitor suddenly begins to accelerate, growing faster and faster. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Something’s wrong.

The nurse rushes over, her face pale as she watches the monitor. "His heart rate’s spiking," she mutters. "It’s too fast. His blood pressure’s dropping."

The room erupts into action as doctors rush in, all moving in synchronized chaos. You’re shoved aside as they begin adjusting the equipment, calling out orders, but your mind goes blank. You try to focus, but it feels like everything is spinning.

"His stats are crashing," one doctor says, his voice tense. "We need to stabilize him now."

"Is it time?" you ask, barely able to speak over the noise. "Should we—"

But before you can finish, a loud, sharp sound cuts through the room—the unmistakable alarm of a failing heartbeat. The doctor turns toward you, his eyes filled with grim determination. "I’m afraid we’ve reached the point where his body might not be able to hold on much longer."

Your breath hitches in your throat. Everything feels like it’s slipping away. You squeeze Charles’s hand tighter, as if willing him to come back to you.

But then, as if the universe is playing some cruel game, the chaos calms, just for a moment.

The alarms start to fade into silence, and the doctor presses his fingers to the side of Charles’s neck, feeling for a pulse. Your heart lurches, praying for any sign of life. The seconds feel like hours.

Suddenly, the doctor looks up, his eyes widening. "Wait… there’s something." He leans in, checking the monitors again. "His blood pressure’s stabilizing. His heart rate’s slowing down to a more normal rhythm."

You barely dare to breathe, your eyes never leaving Charles’s face.

The nurse who’s been working on him moves closer, shaking her head in disbelief. "It’s like he’s coming back."

You don’t know what to think. The last few minutes have felt like an eternity, and now, you’re afraid to believe it. "What’s happening?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

The doctor looks up at you, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes. "It seems like he’s fighting. His body’s responding… it’s too early to say for sure, but this is a good sign."

You stare at Charles, trying to process the sudden shift. Is this the miracle you’ve been waiting for, or just another false hope?

The minutes stretch on, and then, just as you begin to allow yourself a small breath of relief, the monitor lets out another shrill, jagged alarm—the unmistakable sound of a fatal arrhythmia. A shocking wave of panic shoots through you as the machine flashes with an erratic, spiking rhythm.

"V-fib!" The doctor shouts, his voice urgent. "We’re losing him. Get the defibrillator ready."

The nurse scrambles to prepare the machine, and you feel your stomach drop out. This can't be happening. Not now.

"Charles!" you whisper, gripping his hand harder, your eyes welling up. "Please."

The doctors are already on him, paddles in hand, but it feels like time is standing still. Your eyes dart from the monitors to Charles’s face, feeling as if your heart has stopped with his. Then, the shock.

The force of the defibrillator sends a jolt through his chest, and the monitor flickers. Nothing.

You close your eyes briefly, bracing for the worst.

"Again," the doctor orders, and another round of defibrillation. This time, there’s a slight blip, a change. It’s not much, but it’s something.

The doctor presses the paddles down once more, adjusting the settings. "One more time. We need him back."

The seconds stretch as they try again, and then finally, the heart monitor begins to beat again—slowly, but steadily.

"Heartbeat stable," the nurse breathes.

Your breath escapes your lips in a shaky exhale. You look at Charles again, feeling a rush of relief flood through you as the panic of the past few minutes settles into a wary calm. But it’s still not over. His fight isn’t done.

Just as you think the worst is behind you, Charles’s mother bursts into the room, her eyes frantic as she surveys the scene. Her voice cracks as she calls out his name, "Charles!"

You feel a flash of guilt. You should’ve called her sooner, but there had been no time. The doctors had been focused, and you’d been too overwhelmed to think clearly.

You step aside, giving her space, but you can’t look away from the man you love, still unconscious, his body fighting to survive.

The doctor steps over to you both. "We’re stabilizing him, but we’re not out of the woods yet. We need to make some decisions."

Charles’s mother looks at you, her face pale with concern. She reaches for your hand. "Whatever it is… I trust you. You’re his wife, and you know him better than anyone. What do you think we should do?"

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "I… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. He’s… he’s still fighting. But we’ve been here for so long, and I don’t know how much longer we can wait."

Her gaze softens. "You don’t have to do this alone. I trust you. We’re a family. We make these decisions together." She squeezes your hand tightly. "But if you think there’s still a chance for him, then we have to keep fighting too."

You look back at Charles, uncertainty and fear clouding your judgment. How do you even begin to make this decision? His body is failing him, but his heart—his spirit—is still trying.

"Let’s give him more time," you decide, your voice shaking with fear but firm with resolve. "But if his chances are too slim… if we’re just keeping him alive on machines, then we need to think about letting him go."

The doctor nods solemnly. "We’ll run more tests. But if things don’t improve soon, we may need to consider other options."

As the minutes pass, the machines continue to monitor Charles’s every movement, every breath, and the room remains tense, every decision weighed in silence. But then, something begins to shift.

"His blood pressure’s coming back up," the nurse announces quietly. "And… there’s more brain activity. His oxygen levels are improving too."

You feel like you might be dreaming. "Is this really happening?"

The doctor steps forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "I’ve never seen anything like this. His vitals are stabilizing. I think… I think he’s fighting."

"Fighting?" you ask, still not quite believing what you’re hearing.

The nurse, who’s been checking his monitors, speaks softly, her voice a little hopeful. "He knows you’re here. I think he’s holding on for you."

And in that moment, you realize: you’re not alone in this fight. Charles is fighting for you too.

The room fills with a cautious optimism, but the road ahead is still uncertain. Will he wake up? Will his organs continue to improve?

Only time will tell.

Then, the unthinkable happens.

"His breathing," the nurse says, voice shaky, "it’s improving. He’s trying to breathe on his own. We can extubate him. He doesn't need the tube anymore."

You stare, wide-eyed, as they carefully begin the process of removing the intubation tube, your heart in your throat.

Everything changes in a moment.

There’s still a long way to go, but for the first time in hours, you feel a flicker of hope.

He’s still here. And he’s fighting.

But you know deep down that the next few days will be critical.

You stand there, feeling like you’ve crossed a line between despair and hope. But Charles has always been a fighter. And if he’s fighting, so will you.

For him. For the life you built together. For love.

You look down at him, and the smallest of smiles begins to tug at your lips.

Maybe… just maybe… he’ll make it through.

And for now, that's enough.

taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , @ayap4paya , @prttylight , @meadhbhcavanagh , @iluvnewtie , @hiireadstuff , @armystay89 , comment to be added

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

view comments

user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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-

you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

-

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

view comments

user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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-

after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

-

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??

[maxcuntstappen]

for a prompt,

max as the f1 world champion. charles is the heir to the monaco throne. [lorenzo is king currently]

max and charles love each other. max wins the monaco gp for charles. monaco goes crazy.

"Max," Charles tries to sound stern, he really does. But he doesn't think it comes across too well with how he cannot stop giggling.

It's not his fault really.

It's his boyfriend's.

His boyfriend who has him pressed against a wall of his motorhome, relentlessly kissing at Charles' cheeks.

"Maxxxx," Charles tries again, "You need to go."

A 'uh-huh' is the only indicator of Max having even heard him.

Max redirects his attack of pecks to Charles' neck and it makes Charles squirm.

"Max, that tickles!" he exclaims, trying to wiggle his way out from under his boyfriend's grasp.

Max chuckles, finally moving his mouth away from Charles' body, to look him in the eye, "I know," he grins.

It makes Charles' heart jump, how happy Max looks, how pretty.

Time seems to stop as Charles cradles Max's face in his palm, relishing in how Max turns his face to nuzzle into it.

Blue eyes twinkling, lips perpetually pulled upward, cheeks pink and puffed up. Max is a beauty.

Charles opens his mouth to tell him so when a firm knock interrupts him.

"Prince Charles," one of his guards calls out, "Nous devons partir maintenant. Prince Lorenzo et Prince Arthur attendent."

Charles sighs, wishing he could stay with Max longer.

Max seems to be wishing for the same, if his drawn out groan is anything to go by.

Yet, Max doesn't move away. He only snuggles into Charles harder, head buried into the crook of Charles' neck.

Charles laughs, running his fingers through Max's hair, "Come on, mon amour. Time to go."

Max huffs, "No."

Charles rolls his eyes, fondness seeping through his pores, and gently tugs at Max's hair.

Max pulls his head away with an exaggerated moan, "Ouch," frown lines covering his pretty face.

Charles pecks Max's nose and all of them disappear in a second.

"I'll see you after, okay?" Charles says, squeezing the nape of Max's neck.

"Yeah," Max says, a small smile on his lips, "Yeah, okay."

Max steps back and Charles walks to the door.

"Wait!" Max exclaims, making Charles jump.

He turns around.

"What about my good luck kiss?" Max asks, the corner of his mouth twitching as he pouts, clearly trying to suppress the smile trying to break through.

"You don't need a good luck kiss, mon amour. You're Max Verstappen," Charles reminds him.

Even after all this time, ever after multiple world championships, countless podiums and several records broken, Max still lights up when Charles compliments him.

He hopes he never stops.

"Charles, but what if you don't kiss me and the race goes badly? Do you really want that on your conscience?"

Charles scoffs, "Okay but what if I do kiss you and then the race doesn't go well? Will it be my fault then?"

"Of course not, schatje. Then it'll mean that your kiss protected me from anything worse happening," Max replies, like it's the most obvious information in the world.

Charles' heart throbs with adoration. He takes a quick two steps and grabs Max's face in his hand, pressing a firm, soft kiss to Max's lips.

When Charles pulls away, Max looks dazed.

Charles gets it. He feels it, the overwhelming rush he gets when he cannot believe this is his life.

"Good luck, mon amour," Charles smiles, dropping his hands, and walking backwards to the door, "See you on the podium, okay?"

Max simply nods, seeming to still be too lost for words.

That's okay. Charles knows what he would've said anyways.

--

"And the winner of the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix... Max Verstappen!"

The roaring in Charles' ears nearly blocks out the raucous applause of the Red Bull team. But Charles hears them still, faintly. Acknowledges them, thanks them for loving Max and appreciating him and taking care of him.

His cheeks ache because of how hard he is smiling.

And yet, when Max steps up on the top step, quickly turning around to catch Charles' eye, his grin somehow widens.

Charles winks at him, his hands not pausing their applause, and Max laughs, softly shaking his head, before facing the crowd.

Charles' eyes are glued to Max's back as the Dutch and Austrian anthems play. It's a beautiful back, all broad, strong shoulders, tapering down into a small waist.

The only thing that could make Max look any better is if he was wearing red, Charles thinks to himself.

Well, all in due time.

Soon, he's being indicated to step up to award the second place trophy.

Charles looks straight ahead as he walks to the platform, not risking turning into an ooey-gooey mess for a glance of Max's face.

Lando stands tall and proud on the podium, his face split into a grin.

Charles hands Lando his trophy and Lando holds out a hand for Charles to shake.

It makes Charles roll his eyes. There's no need to pretend that Charles doesn't see Lando every other weekend, that he hasn't seen Lando sloshed out of his mind and passed out on the floor of Max's jet, that he doesn't send Lando memes constantly and bitches about it if he doesn't give an adequate reply.

Charles grasps his hand and pulls Lando into a hug.

Lando yelps, and gosh, Charles so hopes that there is some camera somewhere that has recorded the noise.

"Good job, mate," Charles says, arms tight around Lando.

"Thanks, mate," Lando replies, and Charles can hear the smile in his voice.

Charles beelines back to his original spot, next to his brother, standing behind the podium finishers.

As Lorenzo awards Max with his trophy, Charles has to suppress the urge to shout and scream and hoot.

All he can do is clap a bit more aggressively than he did for the others.

It doesn't miss his notice how Arthur does the same.

It's soon after that Charles and his brothers, along with the other dignitaries, are being hurried off of the stage in an attempt to keep them safe from the champagne flying in the air.

Charles has just stepped into the protection of the wings when he's being pushed back out to the stage again.

"Va!" Arthur urges, literally shooing Charles away with his hand.

"Ne fais rien de trop stupide!" Lorenzo warns, but he's grinning wide too.

God, Charles loves his family.

It's Lando that spots him first.

The very next second, Charles is drenched head to toe.

But it's worth it to have Max's giggle in his ear as he hugs him tight tight tight.

His race suit under Charles' hands feels sticky and cold and like home.

"Mon Dieu, Max, tu es incroyable. So incredible. I love you. I'm proud of you," Charles rambles, trying to make the most of the couple of moments he'll get to speak to Max before he's swallowed up by his team and media duties.

Max pulls away, smiling at him, all crinkle eyed, "Thank you for your good luck kiss, schatje," he gives him a quick soft peck before gently pressing the trophy into his arms, "This one is for you," and then Charles is swallowed up in Max's embrace again, the roars of the crowd ringing in his ear, nowhere as loud as the beat of his own heart.

[vettelsvee]

VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I) ⋆ I've been thinking of this for quite a while and I've finally decided to post this! So, if you want to, feel free to requests as many times as you want <3 ─ Drivers I write for: anyone (current F1 grid or retired). ─ Send me your requests via Tumblr Inbox (+ some idea in case you want me to write something specific). Just choose a number from the following ones and tell me the driver you want me to write about! ─ The ones in bold are already taken and will be posted as soon as possible

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

1. "Your face is so adorable. I bet the rest of your body is" ✅ "You want that book? I'll buy you the whole series" ↳ Oscar Piastri 3. "Darling, are you feeling well?" 4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you" ↳ Lando Norris 5. "I might have slept with your robe when you were gone" 6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you" ↳ Max Verstappen 7. "Here, let's share the blanket" 8. "You have to be quiet if you want to cum" ↳ Lando Norris 9. "But I want to hear you sing" 10. "I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop" ↳ Max Verstappen 11. "Are you gonna be good for me?" ↳ Lewis Hamilton 12. "Don't get up - I'll do it" 13. "Star-gazing was a good idea" 14. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight" 15. "I think I love you"

16. "I'll always be here for you" 17. "How about something warm? It'll help you sleep" (Oscar Piastri) 18. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway" 19. Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you" 20. "It's not morning yet" 21. "Have a nice nap?" 22. "You have sleepy stuff in your eyes" 23. "Time to wake up sweetie. It's a new day" 24. "You stayed up past your bedtime again, didn't you?" 25. "Why don't we take a nap together? We can be nap buddies" ↳ Carlos Sainz 26. "You're exhausted, honey" 27. "Are you blushing?" (Oscar Piastri) ✅ "Hey, hey, hey, don't let them say that. You're beautiful" ↳ Lewis Hamilton 29. "Yeah, you're cold. I'm giving you my jacket" 30. "It looks better on you anyway" 31. "You look pretty today" 32. "Can we get married already?" ↳ Lando Norris 33. "Oh, uh, hey. I just wanted to remind you that I love you" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 34. "We should compare hands, you know. Science" "What?" "What? It's not like we haven't done anything worse" ↳ Carlos Sainz 35. "You're cute" "What" "I said you look like a fruit" "That doesn't even make sneak" 36. "Yeah, okay, so what if I dreamt about kissing you? Don't we all do that to our best friends ...No? What do you mean no?" ↳ Lando Norris 37. "This sounds like you're flirting with me" "...I have been trying to do that for three years now" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 38. "You're the most important person of my life" 39. "Welcome to fatherhood" 40. "God, I'm never leaving your side again" 41. "I got the mirror so you can see yourself while I'm fucking you" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 42. "Don't touch me. Just watch" ↳ Sebatian Vettel 43. "What are you wearing?" 44. "Just watch them having sex with me. Maybe it'll give us some ideas" 45. "Your hair is really soft after you wash it" 46. "Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 47. "You smell really nice" 48. "You're my new pillow" 49. "We can talk over dinner" 50. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"

[dolcepuccino]

can someone PLEASE make an angst charlos fic where charles is jealous bc of this post’s caption? alex called him “sweet chilli” sounds like flirting to me. but please give it a happy ending, i couldn’t bear with the tag hurt no comfort 💔