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vroomvro0mferrari · 2 months ago

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CL16 | She’s Busy

Summary: You and Charles have been friends for ages, but recently his protectiveness has reached new heights, ruining your every chance at love. It's high time you put an end to it, and you know just how.

Based on this request!

Charles x fem!Reader, friends to lovers

WC: 4.2K

Warnings: Maybe some cursing? Also, Charles shows some red flags…

Masterlist

“I can’t tonight, Cha,” Y/N told him, a small frown on her face – she knew it’d disappoint him.

“Why not? Do you have plans already?”

“No,” she lied. “I’m just really tired and I think it’s better if I stay in tonight.”

“You can stay in at my place, you’re already here. I can ditch Kika and Pierre, I can cook—”

“Charles,” Y/N protested.

“Okay, I won’t cook, we can order something and watch a movie. It’ll be so much more fun than staying in alone.”

“I just need some alone time, okay? I’ve had a really busy week, and I just want to nap on my couch and eat ice cream. And I don’t want you to miss out on your dinner with Pierre and Kika. We can have dinner next week?” She offered as a last attempt to convince him, an awkward smile on her face.

Charles sighed. “Fine, but you’re not getting out of it!”

She nodded, slightly amused at his pouty face, before planting a quick kiss on his cheek and heading out the door.

Y/N had known Charles for ages. They met when they were younger, still in school, and had stuck together through thick and thin. She’d been there for Charles when Jules died, when his father passed, and when he finally realised his lifelong dream of driving for Ferrari, and Charles had done the same for her. No matter how busy his life got, he was always there when Y/N needed him.

So was Pierre. Y/N had met him through Charles, as the two boys were inseparable from a young age, and she was immediately absorbed into their friendship. Pierre was incredibly accepting of her, and she quickly grew to love him just as much as Charles, even though he had moved away when they were older. It made it more difficult to maintain the friendship, especially since she didn’t see Pierre every other weekend like Charles did, but they managed.

In some situations it was good that Pierre lived in a different country; it made it more difficult for him to tell Y/N’s secrets to Charles. Now, she didn’t keep many secrets – actually, until a few months back she didn’t keep any secrets from Charles, but the change in the situation called for it.

Charles and Pierre had always been protective over Y/N, trying to keep her out of danger in any way they could. It was sweet, really, and their intentions had always been good. Besides, sometimes it was helpful; their meddling had saved her from dating a guy who was only with her for a chance at fame and to meet two Formula 1 drivers, and another boy who showed some very red flags she was blissfully oblivious to. But over the past months, Charles, who had always been worse than Pierre in this matter, started going overboard, especially when Y/N had a date.

It started off innocent enough; Charles would ask her to share her location whenever she went out with a guy, a sweet sentiment, really. After a text asking for help and, consequently, an interference from Charles, he seemed to decide it’d be better if he stuck close. And soon, Charles was always present at her dates. In the beginning, he would just hang around the location and watch the interactions from a distance. Then, watching turned into introducing himself because he “wanted to make sure if the guy’s any good”, which turned into full-on conversations and joining her dates. Frankly, it was ridiculous. He’d just grab a chair from a nearby table and join the conversation, ‘subtly’ mentioning how he’d been friends with Y/N for years, and how he’d always be her number one – “right?”

To no one’s surprise, there wouldn’t be a second date, the poor guy would be scared shitless as Charles talked about the power he wielded in Monaco and online, not to mention, all the contacts he had. Somehow, he always knew someone from the company her dates’ worked at. More often than not, their boss, and he didn’t hesitate to mention it.

Y/N had tried to stop him, she truly had. Whenever he’d interrupted another one of her dates, and Charles would drive her home because there was no need to take a taxi when he was already there, as Charles put it, she’d ask him why he’d intimidated another one of her dates. He’d just tell her that they weren’t good enough for her, and at the glare she’d send him, he’d apologise. Y/N would know she should have pushed further than that, because the situation kept recurring, but the sad look on his face when she’d tell him off, and the puppy eyes he’d give her when he parked outside her apartment building would make her reconsider. Charles was her best friend after all, and she didn’t want to hurt him. The situation was predictable and repetitive, and she kept letting herself get fooled.

At the lack of effect her talks had, she was determined to try a different approach. That’s when Y/N decided not to tell Charles about her dates any longer. What he didn’t know wouldn’t harm him, and she could go on dates without interruptions. That didn’t mean Pierre didn’t know about them, though. With the physical distance between them and Pierre, he could keep a secret and she needed someone to talk to about her dates. And Charles’ idea of sending her location was something she wanted to keep going, just in case.

That was the plan for tonight, too. She was going on a date, and with Charles unaware and hopefully distracted by his dinner with the visiting Pierre and Kika, she’d hopefully have a normal, relaxed first date without any unusual situations. The plan had worked well enough last time, but then again, Pierre wasn’t anywhere near Charles then and God knows he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it.

Y/N drove home quickly from Charles’ place, hopping in the shower before she got ready for her date. She’d met the man at her regular cafe while she was grabbing her morning drink, it was a real meet cute: she’d bumped into him and spilt her tea over his white shirt. He was kind about the mishap, cute, and, most importantly, willing to take her out.

Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror as she put on her necklace, making sure that everything was in place before she grabbed her phone. She texted Pierre her live location and asked him one last time what restaurant he was at, just to check that she was going someplace else.

The boys were already at dinner with Kika when she sent her message. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly took it out to read her message. He smiled at the text. As opposed to what Charles had just told him, that Y/N wasn’t feeling well and needed a night alone, she apparently needed to make sure her date was someplace else than where they were. It was a smart move, and he knew that she’d managed before, but to lie so blatantly to Charles, especially when Pierre had to spend the rest of the night maintaining that lie, was bold. Pierre subtly showed the message to Kika, who stifled a laugh.

You didn’t tell Charles you’re on a date? He typed back before placing his phone on the table.

Y/N’s reply was blunt: Cha doesn’t need to know.

The buzz of his phone caught Pierre’s attention, and Charles’ as well. The phone screen lit up, displaying the new message. A frown formed on Charles’ face as he read it, quickly snatching the phone from the table to make sure he read it correctly.

“What don’t I need to know?” He said, keeping the phone out of Pierre’s reach while he scrambled to get it back. What weren’t his friends telling him?

Pierre’s nerves shot up at the question and he looked at Kika for help. She jumped in without hesitation, always willing to help out her friend. “Well, Charles, she didn’t want you to know, we didn’t want you to know, that Y/N’s at home right now, working on—”

The phone pinged again, and Charles’ eyes shot from Kika’s face to phone in a split second, flitting over the new message.

You know how he gets about my dates…

Charles’ jaw tightened. “She’s on a date?” He asked lowly, “Why can’t I know she’s on a date?”

Pierre cleared his throat nervously. “Well, you do have a history of… scaring off her dates,” Pierre trails off, nervously glancing at Kika for help.

Kika nodded in agreement. She completely supported Y/N in this decision. If it’d been her, she would’ve given Charles a good telling-off months ago, but Y/N was too sweet for that. It was good that he knew the truth now; maybe he’d realise a change was needed.

“Do you know where she is? What restaurant? Or are they somewhere else?”

“Charles—”

“I know you know. Tell me.”

Pierre sighed. “Let’s just finish dinner first, and then we’ll go together, okay? Just to check the guy out from a distance,” he emphasised, hoping that was clear enough. Pierre knew Y/N wouldn’t like it, but it’d be better if he stayed with Charles. He could prevent him from doing something stupid.

Charles grumbled in agreement, quickly finishing his meal, and immediately refusing dessert when the waiter asked, before slamming some cash on the table and leaving the restaurant.

– – – – –

The two boys trailed outside the restaurant, peering inside through the window while Kika sat in the car – she refused to engage in such childish behaviours. Charles had spotted Y/N in no time. The perfectly fitted dress she was wearing, with the matching jewellery Charles had bought her a few months ago, and her hair up into a pretty updo would catch anybody’s eye. She was giggling at something the guy had said, reaching for his hand that lay still on the table until she touched it. Charles clenched his jaw so hard he feared he’d break a tooth. What was that man thinking – touching his best friend like that? Making her laugh?

Charles scoffed before standing upright and marching right into the restaurant. He walked straight past the hostess' stand and past her table before he backed up.

“What—Y/N? What are you doing here?” He spluttered, feigning surprise at her presence. She looked up from her menu at the familiar voice, her jaw slack in surprise. How had he found out? Why hadn’t Pierre stopped him?

He walked closer to the table. “How are you? Thought you were staying in tonight?”

“Charles,” Y/N greeted with fake enthusiasm. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Ah yes, we changed restaurants. Who is this?” He nodded to the man across from her.

“Oh, this is Tom. Tom, this is Charles. He’s a good friend of mine,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“You could say best friend. We’ve known each other for all our lives, I can’t remember a time when Y/N wasn’t there,” Charles said as he shook Tom’s hand, forcing a fake laugh out before he grabbed a chair from an empty table and sat down.

“So, how did you guys meet? I’ve never heard of you before, Tim,” Charles continued, grabbing a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

The man across from him eyed Y/N carefully. She was smiling forcefully, scratching her head as she sighed, but made no effort to get rid of Charles, so Tom smiled awkwardly at the new presence. “We met at a cafe. Also, it’s Tom.”

Charles chewed on his bread as he nodded excessively. “Hm, a cafe? Do you prefer coffee or tea?” He said before flagging a waiter down and asking for a drink.

“Charles—” Y/N tried to interrupt him, to tell him to leave, to not frighten her date, to not make himself so comfortable while he was so rudely imposing on her date. How had he even found out in the first place?

“You know, coffee’s really not good for your health. Caffeine and such – can be addicting, give you headaches if you suddenly stop drinking it… Do you get headaches, Tim?”

“Uh—” Tom mumbled nervously while Y/N hid her face in her hands.

Charles opened his mouth to continue when Pierre slapped his hands on Charles’ shoulders. “We should go, Charles,” he told him, pushing him forward off the chair.

“I’m sure we can stay for a bit longer, right Y/N? Get to know your boyfriend for a bit?” Charles said genuinely hoping Y/N would want him to stay. Instead, she shook her head.

“Let’s go, Charles,” Pierre said forcefully, pushing his friend out of the restaurant. Charles could just barely hear the faint sounds of Y/N apologising to her date as Pierre walked him out. The apologetic tone in her voice as she told him how incredibly sorry she was her friends had interrupted – that they weren’t usually like that, that they’re just protective – almost made him feel bad, except she shouldn’t be dating random guys.

He knew it bothered her, the way he always interrupted her dates, but he just couldn’t seem to let it go. She’s his best friend, he just wanted her to be safe, to make sure the guys were good enough. And frankly, Y/N had never picked out a good guy; Charles could treat her better than every single one of them. If she’d paid attention, she’d know that too. She’d have noticed that he’d buy anything she wanted for her: clothes, jewellery (although it wasn’t intended to be worn on dates with strangers), food and drinks. He’d spend all his money on her if she’d allow it, but she didn’t. The fact that she liked him because of him and not his money, only made him want to do it more. But even besides materialistic things, he always made time for her, no matter how busy he was. He would cook for her every night if it weren’t a risk to their health, and organise movie nights, or other activities. Regardless, she never seemed to notice his attraction to her.

“What happened to watching from a distance, huh mate?” Pierre teased before getting in the car and driving the man home.

– – – – –

To say Y/N was upset would be an understatement. The incident at the date frustrated her immensely. She had told Charles, many times, that he shouldn’t interrupt her dates, yet for some reason he kept doing it – apparently, she had been too subtle. Tom was a good guy too; he was kind and respectful and seemed caring enough, and, now, because Charles had interrupted their date, he had refused a second date. He had scared off yet another one of her prospective boyfriends. The situation needed to come to an end, and apparently, not telling Charles about her dates and correcting him wasn’t good enough.

It was a few (dateless) weeks later when she had finally thought of a plan to put an end to Charles’ antics. She was staying over at her cousin’s for a few days after some heavy rainfall and water damage in her own apartment – the perfect opportunity. It had taken barely any convincing to get him to participate; as soon as she told him about the recurring issue he agreed she needed to take action.

Y/N knew Charles and Pierre were hanging out together; she’d seen the paparazzi pictures on social media, and knew that if she’d send Pierre something about being at someone else’s place, Charles would find out about it soon enough. After all, that was what happened last time as well, even though it took some time to get Pierre to admit it was his fault Charles found out about her date. So, in agreement with her cousin, she took a picture.

They were sitting on the couch, watching TV, when she posed against him, her head lying on her cousin’s chest as she smiled for the photo. His chin was just barely visible in the picture, as was his arm lying along her shoulders. Without a second thought, she sent it to Pierre, hoping her idea would work out exactly as she’d planned.

She saw Charles' status switch to online just a few seconds later. Y/N held her breath as she watched the small dots bounce at the bottom of her phone screen. Charles was typing, then stopping, then typing again, like he couldn’t decide how to start. It almost made her laugh – he was so wound up, like he thought she’d actually gone home with a stranger tonight. All she had to do now, was wait.

Finally, his message came through. Where are you?

She bit her lip to stifle her giggle. She waited a few minutes, just to let him sit in his worry, before sending back a message. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed at the text, showing it to Pierre. “What’s this? She’s busy?” He mumbled angrily while Pierre chuckled silently. Whereas Charles was too wrapped up in his worry and frustration to recognise the prank, Pierre knew immediately what was happening.

He responded. Who are you? Where’s Y/N?

He chewed on his lip as he anxiously awaited her answer. It took way too long before the message was read, and even longer before the typing bubble appeared.

Doesn’t matter. She’s busy.

Charles scoffed again. Who was this infuriating man and what was he thinking, just answering Y/N’s phone like that?

Busy with who?

She’s in good hands. Don’t worry, man.

Y/N giggled at her message while Charles gnawed at his lip. This was not good. Y/N was at some stranger’s house, nobody knew where, and the guy was in charge of her phone. This was bad, real bad. He needed to find her, to make sure she was safe.

Give her back her phone. I need to talk to her.

She’s busy.

Charles groaned in annoyance before calling her. The phone rang a few times but no one picked up.

Where’s she? I’m coming over.

Y/N giggled at her phone when she saw the text. This was too funny, and a face-to-face confrontation would make it even better. She sent him her cousin’s address, curious to see if he’d actually come over.

Not five minutes passed before a loud, rapid knock sounded at the door. Y/N’s cousin shook his head in disbelief. “You weren’t kidding. This guy is intense,” he said before opening the door.

Charles towered over the shorter man in the door opening. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, his voice dark and aggressive as he pushed his way past him. His eyes flicked around the room until they landed on her, sprawled out on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket and watching TV, seemingly completely unbothered.

“Hey, Cha. What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to keep up the innocent act.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why are you at some random guy’s house? You know that’s not safe!”

She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! This could’ve gone incredibly wrong, that guy could’ve murdered you and no one would have known where you were!”

God, he was so infuriating. Always bothering her on her dates, and now he’s yelling at her over a prank while she’s in her cousin’s house, it’s ridiculous, frankly.

“Don’t shout at me, Charles! Are you crazy?” She huffed. “You’re coming over here in a frenzy for nothing. It’s just a prank, I wanted to see how far you’d go. This is my cousin.” She pointed to the boy still standing by the door opening, who was very amused at the situation.

Charles froze, the tension in his jaw loosening as confusion replaced his anger. His gaze darted between Y/N and her cousin, piecing together what she’d just said. “Your cousin?” he repeated, as though the words didn’t compute.

“Yes, Charles. My cousin. You know, family? Not some random murderer or creepy guy. You’ve met him before actually, at my birthday last year!” Y/N replied, her tone sharp as she threw off the blanket and stood up.

Charles’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he avoided her gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, how was I supposed to know? The photo—you didn’t say anything—”

“Exactly! That was the point!” Y/N interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. “Charles, do you even hear yourself? Do you realise how insane this is? I can’t even go on a normal date without you barging in and acting like you’re my overprotective father!”

He flinched at her words but didn’t respond immediately. Her cousin took this as his cue to leave.

“Y/N, I was just looking out for you,” Charles finally mumbled, his voice quieter now. “You don’t understand—these guys you meet—”

“No, Charles, you don’t understand!” She shot back, cutting him off again. “I don’t need you to protect me like this. I’m not a child, and you’re not my bodyguard. You’ve been ruining my dates for months, and I’ve had enough.”

Charles’s fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the words. “I’m just trying to look after you! You deserve better than these guys, Y/N!”

“Why do you even care so much?” She demanded, her voice rising. “What’s it to you if I date someone? Why do you act like you’ve got some kind of say in my love life?”

Charles’s lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. His mind raced, but the words he needed wouldn’t form. How could he explain it? How could he tell her the truth – that he cared because he couldn’t bear the thought of her being with someone else? That he’d been selfish, sabotaging her dates because the idea of her falling for someone else drove him mad?

“Well?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer.

“I—I just…” He looked at her, the frustration and vulnerability clear in his eyes. “Because I’m in love with you, okay?”

Y/N blinked in silence, her anger evaporating as shock took its place. “What?” She whispered.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m in love with you,” he repeated, softer this time. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. And seeing you with other guys—it’s torture. I know I’ve gone too far, but I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Of all the things she’d expected, this wasn’t one of them. Her breath caught as she processed his words. All the pieces suddenly clicked into place; the protectiveness, the jealousy, the way he always went out of his way to make her happy. It had been in front of her the whole time, and she hadn’t seen it. “Charles, I—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, his voice full of regret. “I know I’ve been an idiot, and if you don’t feel the same, I’ll back off. I just… I’m sorry.”

“Charles,” she said softly, stepping closer to him. He looked up, searching her eyes for any indication of what she would say, of how she felt. “I wish you’d just told me sooner. Maybe then we could’ve avoided all this.”

His brows furrowed.

She smiled at his confused expression. “I mean, I like you too, I love you too. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… you have?”

“Yes, you idiot,” she said, laughing softly. “Why do you think I’ve put up with all your nonsense?

Charles let out a breathless laugh, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head before running a hand over his face in frustration. “I’ve spent all this time… and I could’ve just…” he mumbled as he stared at her, trailing off in thought. kissed her, I could’ve just kissed her, he finished in his mind.

“I could’ve just…” he mumbled again, staring intently as he moved to hold her face, pulling it just a little closer. He looked into her eyes, gauging her reaction as his lips neared hers, as he could feel her short breaths on his face. She didn’t protest, didn’t show any intent to move, if anything, she came closer, brushing her lips softly against Charles’ while her eyelids fluttered closed.

Charles couldn’t hold back any longer, pressing his lips to hers softly, hesitantly until he felt her hands slip up his chest. He could feel her fingertips pressing into his muscle as she pulled him closer, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as her fingers faintly passed the skin until they reached his hair.

It felt surreal, this was what he’d been wanting for months. He was absorbed in the moment, not noticing anything but the feeling of her, the scent of her, and the joy she gave him. In that moment it all centred around her – he realised his whole world revolved around her.

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revolutionsingingintherainnn · 8 days ago

Note

Hi! I loved the "through their eyes" fanfic with lando, and i was wondering if youd do it with literally any other driver? Maybe oscar, max or charles? If not thats fine x

through their eyes .ೃ࿐

Summary: charles and y/n's relationship through other people's eyes.

lando's version

༉‧₊˚. cl x reader ‗ ❍

༉‧₊˚. fluff ‗ ❍

masterlist ☾☼

arthur

arthur loved his brother. he really did. his elder brother was his favourite person in the world sometimes.

key word: sometimes.

he hated his brother when he called in the middle of the night. he hated his brother a little more when his reason for calling was because he was afraid his new little puppy had accidentally eaten chocolates.

charles himself never ate chocolates. arthur knew that. so, he couldn’t understand where charles had the idea that leo ate chocolates.

nevertheless, he let his brother drag him to an emergency vet at 4 am. charles was craddling leo, talking to him in a baby voice. arthur tried to take the whole thing seriously, he really did, but sometimes his brother forgot that other people needed sleep.

"they're taking so long. what if something happens to leo in that time? this is an emergency." charles mumbled.

arthur sighed and said, "you're next in line. just be patient."

charles nodded and went back to running his fingers through leo's fur.

when they finally called charles' name, he immediately stood up and speed walked towards the door. arthur sighed, and followed behind, dragging his feet because he really just wanted to be in his bed right now.

"hi, i'm doctor y/l/n. what brings you here?" the doctor was pretty, arthur had to admit.

though, the funny part was the way his brother had lost the part of his brain that made sentences as he stared at the doctor with wide eyes.

as much as arthur loved to see his brother like this, he refused to let him make a fool of himself, or of arthur.

"his dog apparently ate chocolates?" arthur said.

the vet let out a small chuckle, "you say that as if you're not sure,"

"well, i just came home and saw chocolate wrappers around him, which was weird, and immediately rushed him here." charles finally said, finding the part of his brain that made words.

"that is weird. do you have a lot of chocolate at home?" she asked as she began to check for any signs on leo.

"not really. i don't eat a lot of chocolate," charles said, alternating between the doctor and leo.

"any idea where the chocolate was since it was accessible to such a small dog?"

both leclercs stopped for a second and thought. charles was usually careful about not leaving things like that near leo's reach, well aware that leo was a hyperactive dog. and for the days that charles was away, arthur babysat leo. just like he had done that day.

oh.

arthur's brain finally began working, and he hit his brother's back.

"i had the chocolates!" arthur exclaimed.

charles turned to him, confused, "what?"

"i was babysitting leo today and i got some chocolates with me!"

"so you ate them in my living room and left the wrappers?" charles asked, a little bit of anger seeping through his voice.

oh.

this was what arthur had told himself today to not repeat to his brother. that he had been lazy and decided not to clean up like he knew he should've.

arthur opened his mouth to defend himself, to say anything that could pass off and not have his brother lecture him in the middle of the night. but, the doctor saved him. thank fuck.

"oh, i know what you mean. sometimes, i have too many chocolates, and then i fall asleep from a sugar crash and forget to pick up the wrappers or clean up," she said casually, as she continued checking leo.

charles turned back to her, and arthur watched as he slowly nodded and accepted the answer. arthur wasn't sure whether he wanted to be pissed at that or amazed at the power this woman already held.

she subtly winked at arthur, and he decided that he liked this woman.

she turned to charles and said, "alright, he's not vomitting, so that's a good sign. i'm gonna write my personal number for you just in case there's an emergency."

arthur smiled, though he tried to hide it. he knew what she was doing. he just hoped his brother caught on too.

charles took the piece of paper from her, and thanked her. she waved at the two brothers, as they turned to leave.

just as they settled in charles' car, he asked, "why did she give me her personal number?"

arthur facepalmed.

carlos

carlos had been seeing charles' new "friend" quite often in the paddock. charles hadn't introduced them yet, and carlos didn't know why. he still respected his teammate's wishes.

carlos liked to think that he was an observant man. he liked to think that he knew charles well enough to read his body language and know or at least, understand some part of what his teammate was feeling.

he had been observing charles every time y/n was close by. had been watching the way charles stood a little taller, spoke a little softer, laughed a little harder. watched the way charles almost touched her back while showing her around, and insisted on putting the headphones on her head himself, and the way charles waited and waited for her to do anything and everything.

it reminded him of lando and his girlfriend. though, those two were much more touchy than whatever this was. in comparison, charles seemed hesitant, yet eager.

it was during the fourth or fifth grand prix that carlos noticed that charles was properly touching her. not just a hand on her back to guide her way, but a hand on the waist, and her arm, and sometimes her fingers. not only that, she was touching him just as much. she played with his rings and his hair, and she stood just a tad closer than friends would.

carlos knew then that something had changed. something had definitely changed, and he knew it was for the better. he did not say anything, though. it wasn't his place.

towards the end of the season, charles finally introduced the woman to carlos.

"carlos, this is dr. y/n y/l/n. she's a vet," he paused, "and my girlfriend,"

carlos smiled instantly. shaking y/n's hand, he said, "hello, dr. y/n. i am carlos sainz jr, though i'm sure you're already aware of that."

she laughed, and carlos watched the way charles lit up, "yes, i do know who you are! i'm so glad to finally meet you!"

"me too! i was expecting charles to hide you from the world, especially me," carlos laughed.

"i apologise, that was based on my request," y/n looked slightly apologetic, but she also seemed sure in her response. it was her request to not be known, and she had the vibe that she would fight anyone who questioned it.

"well, then i'm glad to see charles is capable to following requests. my request for feeding him pancakes have always been ignored. hopefully, you can convince him,"

charles groaned, while y/n laughed, leaning into him slightly.

"i'll convince him, for sure. don't worry,"

the three of them chatted for a little while longer, giggling and making fun of charles. when she started yawning, and leaning into charles more, carlos bid his goodbyes to the couple.

he watched as charles tucked her into him, and watched they shared a soft kiss as they walked towards the exit. he watched as charles smiled radiantly, and he smiled as well.

what was it with carlos and watching his teammates finding their forever loves in front of him?

lewis

being a part of ferrari had been a dream. it was everyone's dream. but, lewis had some doubts. it had been a tough decision, definitely. now, though, with almost half of the season over, lewis felt more comfortable.

he had been waiting for charles to finish talking to the fia president to go over some strategy changes for the next few races. he wasn't eavesdropping, he was just listening attentively for any signs of their conversation being over. lewis desperately wanted to go home, but he wanted to finish this and then go home.

as soon as the conversation ended, lewis watched as charles and his girlfriend bid their goodbyes and walked to charles' driver room. lewis jogged to keep up. he was 40. he shouldn't have to jog to keep up now.

just as lewis reached the door, the two had already locked themselves in the room. in hindsight, lewis could have just yelled at them to wait up like a normal person would, but well, maybe he doesn't care about the strategies enough to do it.

he raised his hand to knock when the words from inside the room registered in his brain.

"-such a dick." y/n was saying. who was a dick? a lot of people were dicks, so it didn't exactly narrow down the list for lewis.

charles laughed. his voice was louder. maybe he was standing closer to the door.

"don't laugh! it was so annoying standing there. three different people, including me, mentioned to that fuckass president of yours that i'm a vet and i have a medical degree, and i've made a name for myself! but, no! he kept referring to me as your girlfriend!"

if lewis leaned against the wall to get slightly more comfortable, he definitely didn't. definitely.

"you say as if it's a bad thing he referred to you as my girlfriend! you are my girlfriend, after all." charles said.

"that's not the point, charles. the point is that i'm accomplished in my own ways. i'm y/n y/l/n first, and somebody's something second. him refusing to acknowledge that i'm a doctor, even if it was for animals, was disrespectful."

lewis hoped that charles got his shit together in this conversation.

"i understand that. but, you know that's how he is. we've all told you stories of how he is. he's not going to change." well, lewis agreed that he wasn't going to change, but it still wasn't the argument that charles thought it was.

"that's bullshit, no? he's the president of the fia, and he refuses to acknowledge women as someone other than a secondary person. i mean, how many others has he done this with? we've got professional golfer lily, and a super smart degree in engineering, and we've got kika as a model and studying in fashion design. they're all highly accomplished women."

"mon cheri, i agree with you. i promise i do. but, the president barely treats us drivers as humans. his viewership and his money literally depends on us, and he doesn't have the decency to treat us nicely,"

that was true, lewis had to agree.

it was quiet for a few moments, and then hushed whispers. lewis leaned in closer to the door as he tried to make out the words, but he just couldn't.

"oh, hey lewis!" one of the mechanics said, clapping a hand on his back.

lewis immediately straightened, and made polite conversations. he really wanted to get back to listening to the conversation happening inside.

just as he was done with the conversation, the door opened, and charles greeted them, and the conversation began again.

for fucks sake.

jules

jules was always watching from the sky. he was always watching over his godson. after all, that was the duty of a godfather, wasn't it? to protect the godson when no one else could. to be there for the godson when no one else could. jules had promised charles' father that he would always look after his son, and not even death can stop jules.

he'd watched charles find y/n. he'd watched the way she supported him and helped him grow as a person. he's watched as she made him the happiest man on earth. he'd watched her celebrate every win with him, and comforted him through every loss.

it was safe to say that jules felt the proudest of his godson the day he proposed to y/n. charles was smart to never let her go. charles was smart to make sure that she stayed with him and loved him just like he loved her and wanted to stay with her.

it was the day of charles and y/n's wedding.

jules was there in spirit. he always was.

y/n was a sweetheart. she had saved him a seat, along with charles' father in the front row for charles. jules wasn't sure if she had told charles, but he knew his godson would be so thankful for it.

jules was there in his suit and tie, looking crisp, even if no one could see him. he sat on the seat reserved for him as he waited for the groom to walk down the aisle first.

he saw every person who ever cared about charles sitting there. family, friends, team, ex drivers, current drivers. it made jules smile. so many people loved charles. so many loved y/n as well. to see them all together in one place to celebrate their love was heartwarming.

the music began, and charles walked down the aisle with his groomsmen: pierre, carlos, and bryan. they smile and laugh with him, shaking his shoulders as tear gather in charles' eyes.

jules watched as charles' gaze roam across the mass of people sitting there. he waves slightly at a few. jules watched as charles' gaze finally settled on him. he watched as charles' tears fell at the realisation of what his fiance had done for him.

he watched as charles covered his face, silent sobs escaping him. and then, the music began, and the bride walked down the aisle. everyone stood, including jules.

the bride was smiling wide, a little bounce in her steps as if she couldn't wait to marry his godson. her hand was tucked in her father's elbow, and the other hand held a bouquet of lilies.

jules watched as she stood on the little podium in front of charles, smiling brightly while his tears mixed with his grin. the love in charles' eyes was as beautiful as the aurora borealis in the night sky.

the ceremony began, and they went through the usual process. jules had been to few weddings, though he didn't remember most of them anymore.

when it was time for the vows, charles broke down again as he thanked his bride for saving a spot for his dad and his godfather, that he didn't think of doing something like that despite how much he wanted them to be there on their wedding there. he thanked her and promised to love her forever. he promised to cherish her and always be there for her, and he promised that he would always be at her beck and call, because she was the greatest gift he'd ever gotten.

y/n cried as well. it surprised jules a little bit. maybe he wasn't expecting her to cry as well. but, it was nice to see. to see that their love for each other was so overwhelming that smiles could not contain it.

she said her vows as well. she told him that she knew how much he missed his father and godfather and she wanted to do something small that would make him feel closer to them. she told him how much she loved him and how much she's going to continue loving him. she promised him to be the first one jumping for every win, and be the first hug he needs when he's disappointed. she promised that she would hold onto his hand as long as he held onto her, and she promised to laugh at every joke he said, regardless of how funny or not funny it was.

almost everyone was in tears. jules was too.

when the priest finally said, "you may kiss your bride," the couple did not waste another second. charles' hands cupped her face, as she held onto his wrists, and they kissed for the first time as a married couple.

jules smiled.

he knew pushing y/n towards charles was a good idea.

he knew he'd made the right decision, even from the sky.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

i genuinely feel like my writing skills have massively deteriorated. im not even fishing. im just saying. i feel like it takes me one or two tries to get a particular driver right. i don't really pay as much attention to the other drivers as i do with lando, and also that i connect with lando a lot personality wise, so its easier for me to write him. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc y/n #charles x reader #charles x you #jules bianchi #cl16 #cl

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aninipanin1 · 20 days ago

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A FAIRYTALE

Notes: Its been a while since I wrote about Young Manager! So I'm doing this before continuing my requests hehee

"You mean, none of you haven't seen Y/n-chan ever since the practice earlier?" Isagi asked Yukimiya and Hiori, face contorted in confusion. Usually, you'd be walking around the facility, doing your rounds and chores. But, it had been a few hours since any of the players have seen you and they were starting to get a bit worried.

"It's not usual for her to suddenly be gone. Besides, you know how she doesn't know the word 'rest,' that girl, I swear." Hiori sighed, peeking through any rooms they passed by, to see if you were in any of them, but to no avail.

"It's almost dinner time, and Y/n-chan and some of our teammates are still not here. Ego-san will not be happy." Yukimiya added. As the trio turned a corner, they heard a muffled voice in one of the rooms, the familiar soft voice immediately registering in their heads, that voice was definitely yours.

Sighing in relief that they won't be scolded by Ego tonight, they entered once the automatic door opened to let them in.

"Y/n-chan, dinner is al- Eh?" Isagi, along with Hiori and Yukimiya, can only blink in confusion, taken aback by the rather...unique and odd scene in front of them. The room where Kaiser and Ness were staying in was in a huge mess, with many books scattered, there was even one mini board on the floor with what looks to be mathematical equations written on them.

But the weirdest scenery was what was in the middle of the mess. You sat, criss-crossed on the ground holding what seems to be a children's book of sorts due to the rather whimsical cover as you read the content in a soft voice, similar to that of a mother singing her lullaby. Charles' head was on your lap, head in between your arms that was holding the book as he seemed to be so focused on the book that his little fangs were sticking out.

Bachira was resting his head on your left shoulder, eyes listening to your voice and looking at the book. While on your other shoulder was an uncharacteristically quiet Shidou, who looked to be taken and focused on your voice as well. Ness, meanwhile, sat beside Bachira, listening and peeking at the book with a calm smile too.

Kaiser, Loki and Lorenzo were the most shocking ones in the equation as they were not as clingy to you, but they seemed to be listening to the story, too, yes, Kaiser was bad at hiding his interest.

'This looks like...a daycare.'

The three Bastard Munchen players can only comment in their minds at the scene. To think that these people, who are quite the opponents on the field, with some having questionnable ethics (ehem Shidou, Kaiser and Bachira ehem), can be calmed down by a mere children's story was unbelievable.

They were all hyper-focused on your voice, too. Like your mouth held the tongue of an angel, ready to give them the tales of the future. And so, they were really wondering now; what the hell did they walk into?

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy."

Your vouce narrated the poem, trying to mimic a much deeper voice for the supposed persona of the dialogue.

"Huh? What the hell is frabjous?" Charles pointed out at the word, you stopped to try and remember what it meant.

"Hmm, in this context, I think it means joyous. Like that day is a joyous day, Charles."

"Oooh, okay! Continue!"

'Are we statues here?'

Isagi, Hiori, and Yukimiya wondered as it seemed that none of them there noticed the three of them standing in front of the door. Then as if on cue, Bachira turned his head to find the three of them to which his grin only widened as he waved at the trio.

"Isagi! Oh and Yukki and Hiorin too! Join us! Y/n-chan is reading us the Ja-Jawoc...Jawocky..."

"Jabberwocky..." You softly corrected him.

"Right! Jabberwocky!" The male cheered as he went back to resting his body and head against yours, causing you to flinch a bit due to the heaviness. It was not easy to have three males who are probably double your muscle mass resting their body against yours.

"I understand Bachira and the other two. But what are you four of all people doing here?" Yukimiya turned his head to Kaiser, Ness, Lorenzo, and Loki. To which Loki shrugged his shoulders.

"I searched for Charles and Shidou and ended up here. I don't mind it though...the story reminds me of when I was younger!" And it did. He remembered his mother telling him stories ranging from the typical fairytales like Hansel and Gretel or Snow White to the weirdest ones, like Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz and the Jabberwocky, the one you were currently reading. The nostalgia was quite heavy, especially now that he's on the other side of the world, feeling homesick at times, because, even if he is a world-class striker, he is still a child at heart, a fact he would never admit to anyone.

"It's our room, idiot. Of course we'll be here." Kaiser rolled his eyes and pointed to Ness and him. But, truthfully, it wasn't just that reason as to why he was there, listening to your words. Growing up, he was not taught how to read, let alone read to by any adult. He has seen those scenes in movies before, but he never experienced that nor did he think he would want that.

But, he kind of liked the soft tone to your voice, the way you ennounciate your words, trying to make impressions on each persona or character of the stories.

It added heaviness to the situation when he remembered that he never went to school and just started learning how to read proper books when he was out of the hell he was once in. So, classics like fairytales were something he did not know of. He would even quip questions about the story and some words he does not understand of, partially because most of the words and ideas were so silly in his mind.

Did adults think kids are that stupid? Although, even if it was stupid...it was entertaining and well, warming. Naive, yes, but not offending. Was this the childhood of those other kids? He was someone who did not dwell on the past, but he still could not help but wonder.

Ness, on the other hand, was the opposite. He was someone who would tear up at even the memory of his rough past. He grew up being alienated and deprived of love by his family just because he believed in something they did not. The books you were currently holding was his, a stash he hid and bought with him to this stupid facility to kill time.

But instead of tearing it apart like his siblings would have done, you took it seriously, reading it happily to him and the others. It felt so satisfying...so joyful to see that the girl he loved was more than happy to support and take his love and belief in something impossible, instead of making fun of him and shunning him out like the people of his past.

"Heh, what's wrong with a lil sprinkly sparkle in your life every once in a while?" Lorenzo smirked, shrugging at Yukimiya before turning hisbhead to face you again.

Like with Kaiser, life has not been kind to a young Lorenzo. He has not been imparted any books of those kind, nor was he even given the chance to get an education. How would he, when he did not even have enough money for a few bread scraps? In life, you need to sacrifice, and for him, survival was the definite better option than some paper and a chance to wear some sort of ugly toga.

But, he would be lying if he said he was not curious what it would feel like to have grown up in a normal place, a normal environment with normal people who do not struggle financially? To have learned how to read better than what his current skill is due to his lack of education. To know any references or fairytail the others would inquire you about, due to the familiarity of the story. He wondered how it feels to have that privilege of familiarity.

But, he digressed. The past is the past, and dwelling on it was just the shittiest way to live. He was here for a good time, for God's sake!

"Geez..." Hiori sighed as he watched your cheeks plump up mainly because of the hugs Bachira, Shidou and Charles gave you, squeezing your cheeks along with it which made him let out a low chuckle. God, were you just adorable.

"C'mon Y/n-chaaaan! Read the next story!"

"But, Shidou-san, dinner is about to-"

"We can eat dinner later, Y/n! You can continue reading!" Charles encouraged as he looked up at you from your lap, a mischievous grin on his face matching that of Shidou's and Bachira's.

You can only sigh at the three's childlike brhaviour before relenting.

"Okay, one more story then we eat, okay?"

In the end, the one story became five as Hiori, Yukimiya, and Isagi also joined in on the fairytale marathon you gave them.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

• BACHIRA saw Ness' books un this and asked you to read the first story, Cinderella to them, since he thought your voice fitted the beautiful maiden in the story. Like Loki and Charles, he missed his home and his mother's voice, remembering the nights where he would sleep next to her on her bed as she would lull him to sleep with mindless stories about fairytales and mystical wonders that let his mind go wild.

• CHARLES, having to grow up with so many siblings, has always had to share the attention of his parents, hence why he is a bit touch and attention starved. That included the bedtime stories and many pleasantries before bed, having to give up that privilege at a young age because of his younger siblings coming into the picture. So, he loved that he got to rekindle those memories and with you of all people in the midst of it!

• SHIDOU is not a believer of magic nor fairytales. He hates it, the impossible to him is something that can be broken apart by anyone, but magic was not the impossible that he believes in. Magic was just plain unethical, not true, fictional. Completely different in his brain. But, your voice was quite pleasant to listen to, and for the first time ever, he was willing to sit down and listen to a dumb fairytale, just to hear you.

This became a lil too angsty than I thought it would be LMAO

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

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amaranthineghost · 11 months ago

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HE’S SO PRETTY WHEN HE GOES DOWN ON ME ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x reader

charles goes down on her and she can't help but admire his pretty eyes staring back at her.

warnings: smut, mostly google translate french (highschool does NOT teach us how to talk dirty okay, bare with me)

author note: as much as I would've wanted to write this for lando, it HAS to be charles, and I feel like this is so different from my usual thought and emotion heavy writing! incoming charles obsession??? like if people requested imagines for him, I'D WRITE IT...

HIS GREEN EYES MIMICKED THE SHIMMER OF PALE EMERALD. sunlight peeked through the curtains, though in a few hours time, it would fall from its peak in the sky and the room would eventually begin to darken.

his biceps filled out the sleeves of his freshly-washed blue shirt, straight from the load of laundry she had done hours ago. veins like lightning under his tanned flesh to suggest his touch was rough, yet his callused hands were so gentle against her skin.

goosebumps crept across her body with every graze of his body on hers, every small breath against her ear as he mumbled something dirty to her in french. though she didn't know exactly what, she could pick up on the cognates between languages.

he tasted faintly of chapstick, her chapstick, that transferred from her lips to his as he couldn't keep off of her. with lips as swollen and pink as hers, he graced nearly every part of her body with his kiss. she was his oxygen and he was deprived.

but it was hard for him to ever be deprived, considering how even when they weren't in such a position, he was glued to her, hands grasping or resting at her sides and his breath down her neck.

when he'd reluctantly part from her sweet-tasting lips, his veined hand would snake down from the long strands of her hair in his palm, coming to rest on her jaw. prominent veins in his arms would indicate force was used to push her head up to expose the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, yet his touch was tender.

still, he felt her gulp under his palm.

light trails of saliva from his kisses down her jaw to her collarbone and neck, leaving red marks of irritated skin that would later bruise.

he knew she wouldn't be able to cover it up. he nipped at her skin with the purpose of showing it off, and she could get him to stop if she really wanted. but she didn't want that.

the hand on her neck reminding her of the easy power he had over her, and how she loved the gentle dominance he displayed.

because it hadn't taken much convincing earlier to get her into their bedroom. despite it being midday, he wanted to take care of her, in more ways than one.

she didn't object, she wouldn't when he looked at her with those damn eyes. his strength and her weakness.

now laid on her back with his body looming over her, his knee between her legs to put pressure just enough, but still not satisfying the desperate need to have him. and yet they had both managed to stay clothed all up untill this moment.

kissing up the staircase, his hands grasped at her waist, hoisting her into his arms, and gotten them to where they were now.

the tension had been building with every step he took, his pretty eyes watching her squirm, though he was the one to be so eager to please her. he couldn't give a shit about himself.

disheveled hair and tired, green eyes while his greedy hands roamed down her clothes, grasping at the skin of her thighs. still, he took his time as he usually did with his hands over her body, memorizing every dip in her skin.

fingers teasing under the edge of her white laced tank, bumps rising on her stomach as the material rode up her torso. he watched her nipples harden through her top, feeling his sweatpants getting tighter as he watched her subtle reactions. subtle reactions that gave him more than a little confidence in his attempts to please her.

because if he didn't then what was his purpose of living if not to please her?

his eyes remained on her the entire time, even if hers didn't meet his. she felt the burning sensation of his gaze over her heated skin. desperation for him between her thighs became increasingly unbearable, she wanted him. she needed him.

but he always took his time. it was agonizing, but she always came hard because of it.

from teasing her barely exposed skin to massaging into her ribs, he watched her expression every step of the way. it was slow, as per usual, agonizing.

his hands finally found her breasts, gently squeezing the flesh in his palms while he circled her sensitive nipples with his thumbs, exerting small noises from her.

removing one hand momentarily, he pulled down the lace of her tank, leaving messy kisses down from her collarbone to her other breast. but he didn't give her that little satisfaction, not yet.

“shhhh, patience, mon amour,” he spoke with a rasp in his voice, muffled slightly as she felt the vibrations of his voice against the flesh of her breast.

fixing her top with his other hand still teasing her chest, his hand caressed her waist under her small shorts.

trailing down the joint of her hip, his fingers traveled slowly down to and along her inner thigh before dipping under the fabric of her shorts. he played with her panties, pulling the hem away from her slick cunt. she whined at the contact of air to her core.

he bit his lip at the sight of her, fuck she was gorgeous lying before him and so desperate for a simple touch of his hand.

his knuckles brushed over the wet patch - that he caused- on her underwear and she inhaled a sharp gasp. he tsk’d at her reaction, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

“tu es une petite chose désespérée,” (you are a desperate little thing). he chuckled breathlessly, eyeing her body squirm at such simple actions from him, “très sensible…” (very sensitive).

he teased her with words she could only guess the meaning of, pulling the hem of her panties back only to release it from between his fingers to slap back onto her skin. the sound filled the silence of the room and she flinched slightly at the feeling.

though she didn't have much time to react in any other way when his two fingers ran up her wet cunt, her folds rubbing against the soft cotton of her soaked panties. he teased her clit, rubbing circles with his thumb in an agonizing pace.

biting her lip and grasping at the pillows above her head, she clenched her thighs around his hand, trapping his fingers out of desperacy to feel more.

he only chuckled at her need, her attempt for a sliver of control. because he knew she had none.

he still managed to slip his hands away from her core despite her desperacy to keep him close and use him, which he didn't mind, but he preferred to have control. the warm hand from her chest emerging from the bottom of her lace tank to pry her legs apart, which didn't take much force from him. though she whined at the lack of contact.

hands placed on her knees, sliding his callused hands down the front of her thighs to rest at the point on her waist the top of her shorts rested. firmly grasping handfuls of the flesh of her hips, he tugged her body sharply against his.

unfortunately for her, his hands left her side - which she objected to - for merely five seconds to slip his blue shirt from his torso.

“calme,” (quiet) his tone was firm, yet a smirk etched its way onto his face as he saw the way her face changed as his toned torso was now in full view for her to marble at.

he let her as her fingertips barely reached his skin. she returned the smirk as she saw the rising goosebumps from the sensation of her nails down his abs before reaching where his v-line was interrupted by the tops of his sweatpants.

he shook his head at her actions, catching her wrists with both his hands and pushing them into the pillows above her head. “it's your turn now, belle,” his voice was raspy as he whispered in her ear. fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank as he waited for her permission.

instead of giving it to him, she’d rather try to turn the teasing back on him, but unlike her, he loved the show she gave as she peeled her top from her body slowly.

on contact with the cold air, her nipples hardened again and charles could swear he salivated at the sight of her bare chest, as if he hadn't seen it plenty of times in the past.

“tu es trop jolie pour moi, ma chérie,” (you are too pretty for me, my dear) he muttered under his breath, hands full of her breasts as he couldn't resist himself.

okay, maybe her slow strip-tease did work on him a little bit. a little too well because now he wanted to see all of her.

shuffling his way till he stood at the foot of the bed, hastily slipping off his sweatpants without breaking his gaze on her body. the rise and fall of her bare chest, her hands returned to their spot on the pillows, her legs now crossed and hips moving to find friction against the cotton of her clothes to give her something to go off of. biting her lip as she tried, all while he watched.

the sound of his sweatpants hitting the floor as he disregarded them across the room, his attention on her never faltering as she watched him crawl across the bed back to her.

his toned shoulders and biceps, veiny forearms and hands, eyes locked on hers, disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. the heat of his gaze made her squirm as he crawled back up to her, bodies pressed together as his head once again dipped into the crevice of her neck.

kissing down her body, he went further, and further, and further till he stopped at her stomach, hands on her hips to her thighs to unknot them just enough. hands back to her hips to lift her just slightly and with his fingers around the hem of her shorts and panties, slowly slid them down.

he's so pretty when he goes down on her, green eyes watching as he dipped lower, and lower, and lower. gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry now across the room.

his warm breath against her stomach as he watched her carefully, analyzing every little movement and subtle reaction. every brow crease, mouth twitched, nose flare, every swallow and gulp that traveled down her throat, small fly-aways from her hair starting to matte down to her skin.

biting her lip as he lowered down her body, dangerously close to the spot between her thighs. close enough to feel his breath against her thighs, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

anticipation building in her stomach, hips rolling to close the gap from his face to her cunt, but his hands holding her down firmly stopped her. a whine in desperation slipping past her lips, pushing her head further back into the pillow in anguish.

“regarde-moi, chérie.” (look at me, darling) he spoke so sweetly, yet so tauntingly, like he'd never give in to what she wanted if she didn't do what he needed her to.

“charles, please…” she begged because she wasn't entirely paying attention to what he was asking of her, especially when he spoke another language. she didn't have time for translation.

he shook his head, pressing his face into her inner thigh as he chuckled at her tone, so needy and only for him.

“look at me, amour,” he repeated in english after kissing her thigh.

now propped up on her forearms, watching her beloved monégasque boyfriend looking back at her with a smug smirk on his face.

she scowled back at his expression, opening to make a snarky comment about it. her jaw hung open after he finally closed the gap after waiting too long, his tongue licking a single stripe up her cunt.

she rolled her eyes in annoyance, falling back down into her pillows as she groaned in annoyance, “fuck you, charles.”

“i’m sure you'd love to, darling,” he teased before tasting her again, humming into her cunt which incited a hand through his hair, pushing him closer and a whine to slip past her lips.

when he'd done enough teasing for his own enjoyment, he indulged further into her core. his hands snaking around to the crevice where her thigh met her hip to pull her further into him.

squeaked moans barely making it out of her mouth as he worked away at her clit, her hand in his dark hair to push him closer in fear he would stop.

nips at her folds and whines whenever he would do so, tugging a little harder on his hair causing groans from him. vibrations of his groans through her clit, stimulating her more and more.

legs trembling as her thighs clamped tightly around him, and he didn't dare stop her. he was in heaven. she was sweet, perfect in contrast to her bitter attitude only seconds ago. he nearly broke eye contact when he was first reminded of how she tasted.

caressing her hips, he refused to part with her cunt, his lips coated with her slick as he heard the pattern of her moans falter.

she was so easy to tie in knots, and so easy to untangle too, shuddering harshly as she barely let out a moan. tugging tighter at his hair, pulling him closer as if he would leave her unsatisfied as she came undone on his tongue.

he didn't stop after the first, or the second. it wasn't until she was close to her third that he even considered a break. after the second, his pace slowed to small movements from his tongue, lightly teasing her now sensitive clit.

soft tears ran down her cheeks at the overstimulation between her legs, but she didn't stop him. it felt too damn good.

the third came the slowest, but hardest as he managed to coax it out of her patiently.

by the time he had pulled away, his hair was even more messy than before, her slick covered his lips and chin, his tongue licking away the remnants of her on his face. his shoulder slightly red at her barely clawing away at his skin.

by the time he had pulled away, tears streamed down her cheeks, hair matted to her forehead, her arched back dropping down the sheets, and her hands that were previously in his hair now gripped tightly at the pillows by her head. her eyes, hazy and tired, her chest rising and falling with hastened breaths as he crawled up to her, running a hand through her equally-matched messy hair and wiping stray tears that he caused, even though he knew it wasn't a bad thing.

without a word, he got up, leaving to slip into their bathroom. she heard the faucet run from her position on the bed and she rolled to the edge, peeking at his actions.

she knew he would take tender care of her, no different to how he did so every time.

—

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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itaipava · 3 months ago

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— charles leclerc being a simp for you.

he quietly learns your routine and tastes: your coffee orders, your favorite comfort food, and even the little things that brighten your day. when you’re too busy or stressed, he’s there with your favorite things, making your day easier without needing to be asked.

he follows the release dates of your favorite authors or artists, always surprising you with a new book, song, or art. sometimes he leaves it on your doorstep with a little note, so it feels magical when you find it.

he makes a physical or digital “map” of places you’ve mentioned you’d like to visit or things you want to do, like hike a specific trail, try a new restaurant, or visit a certain country. little by little, he plans little trips to check off items on your list and make your dreams come true, surprising you with spontaneous and memorable adventures.

whenever you say something funny, inspiring, or deeply personal, he writes it down. over time, he creates a little book of “quotes of you” that he can look back on, remembering all the unique things that made him fall in love even more with you.

every week, he sends you flowers or with a handwritten note. he never signs his name, leaving it as a “secret admirer” gesture, which adds mystery. even though you know he’s the one sending them, he never admits it. sometimes even joking around like, “what beautiful flowers! who gave them to you? a secret admirer?”

he creates different spotify playlists based on your mood — one for when you’re happy, one for when you’re sad, one for when you’re feeling nostalgic. each playlist is filled with songs that resonate with your emotions, showing that he really pays attention to you and uses music to demonstrate his love and care for you.

whether it’s a specific recipe you love or a new hobby you’re interested in, he dives into learning to surprise you. one day, he’ll show up with a homemade version of your favorite dish or casually mention that he tried that new hobby you’re obsessed with. he loves to participate in your hobbies and share the same emotions and ideas with you.

he has a scrapbook of all your best memories together, including date night tickets, photos, and little memories. it’s a visual journey of your relationship that he updates with new pages as you continue to make memories.

one night, he’ll take you stargazing, showing you a custom star map he commissioned that shows the exact sky from the night you met, your first kiss, or another significant event. it’s a physical reminder of your history together and how the stars have witnessed your love.

he notices what makes you feel better when you’re feeling down or stressed, whether it’s a specific movie, hot chocolate, or a fluffy blanket. when you need a pick-me-up, he’ll quietly set up your favorite “comfort zone” with everything you love to help you relax.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles fluff #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic

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sunsetchicane · 6 months ago

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first kisses [CL16]

charles leclerc x childhood best friend!fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

summary: The one where you have to go back to your hometown for business and your past finally catches up with you.

warnings: kisses, angst, grief, homesickness (in the Noah Kahan way), friends to lovers; burning, pining, perishing! fluff at the end :)

author's note: Friends to lovers was on my mind, and this is what came out. Feedback is appreciated, so please share your thoughts/comments/questions!! Sending love! [xoxo elle]

^edit: Thank you all sooooo much for the love this has received! No one does it better than the f1 babes. Thanks again!!

*Flashback*

She sat at the end of an abandoned dock. The towering ships were the only thing around her, a pleasant, quiet company. Monaco was set ablaze with a burning orange glow from the setting sun over the hills that hemmed the city in. The water sparkled in front of her, shimmering and dancing freely. She found herself envying the ocean. When the ocean was calm, people loved it for its serenity. When the sea was charged and crashing, people adored its fierce energy. But when she was calm, she was chastised for being withdrawn. When she exposed her power, she was commanded to be quieter, gentler. So she envied the ocean for its freedom and beauty.

Footsteps padded against the sturdy dock somewhere behind her, steadily growing closer. She knew who it was before she even looked over her shoulder. Wiping away salty tears, she sniffed her nose hard. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

Charles studied her from behind, not entirely understanding why she was reduced to tears at her father’s venomous comment. He’d seen her handle far worse from him time and time again over the years. He couldn’t find a way to understand why this one got to her. It had her running from her house, away from everyone, and brought her all the way out to the docks in the bay. Something carried her out here, and he wanted to know what.

Her eyes were trained unerringly on the horizon. She was dreaming about reaching out to it and dragging her finger along it. She didn’t acknowledge her looming best friend. She didn’t know what to say to him, so she opted for saying nothing.

Charles plopped down next to her, his feet dangling over the end of the dock. She rolled her eyes. He obviously didn’t pick up on the fact that she wanted to be alone. Typical.

She huffed and turned her face away from him into her shoulder. Charles rolled his eyes this time. Girls.

For some time, the two of them just sat there, toes tracing lazy circles in the water below. The ocean spray hit their warm skin, infecting their senses. Slowly, it set her at ease. Charles waited for the ocean to do what it did best: to heal.

Once the sun had gone down and dusk settled in, calamity disappeared. She was feeling hollow now, and cold. Nights down by the water often became chilly. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she shivered. Charles noticed immediately.

“Can we go back now?” He asked, thinking that she might open up on the walk home. He was also eager to get back to his warm house.

“No,” She said simply. It was the first thing she’d done to actually acknowledge his presence, save an eye roll. Charles groaned.

“You go then, you big baby.” She mumbled in response, tightening her arms around her middle. Charles’ head snapped to her with an incredulous look plastered onto his features. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and chuck her into her beloved bay. Maybe that would set her straight.

While he was seriously contemplating his plan to shove her in, she leaned into him, her head resting gently against his shoulder. Charles’ eyebrows popped up in surprise as he eyed her in his peripherals. Her mumbled ‘sorry’ was barely audible, but acceptable for now. He knew that she didn’t mean to be moody; it was just a byproduct of a bad situation.

“Your dad’s an ass,” Charles said stiffly, still a little unsure about having her head on his shoulder. The two of them had never touched like this before. It made him nervous. It made her secure.

“Yeah,” she agreed, a weak laugh shaking her frame. Charles ventured a shaky hand towards her shoulder. When she let him cup her shoulder with his hand, he pressed her closer to him with a firm tug. She suddenly felt warm, the chill of the night cut through with just a one arm hug from her best friend. Best friend. Suddenly, it seemed an improper title.

“Wanna talk about it?” Charles whispered, his quiet voice floating over the dark sea like a ghost.

“No,” was all she could manage. A new flush of emotions welled in her chest. Her eyes rose to look at Charles through her lashes. He was the one looking out at the water now. This was her Charles.

“What do you want to talk about then?” he said, desperate to get her talking because this silence was getting heavy. He didn’t like the feelings that were stirring in his stomach. He was becoming painfully aware of how he was sitting, the way he smelled, the way his fingers rested against his best friend’s shoulder. Best friend.

She pulled away from him then so she could look him in the eye. His brown hair was swept off to the side, looking messy and charming. Charming? Had he always looked like this? Or was it just tonight’s high emotions that set her hormones into overdrive? Charles’ eyes fell on her, too. Her lips were puffy and pink, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. He swallowed hard.

“Charlie?” She whispered his name like a secret, folded up into a night they would never talk about again.

“Yeah?” He said, his voice low and reverent. He was waiting for whatever she was going to say. He found himself hanging off every word that fell from those pink lips. He would never stop.

“I have a proposition for you,” she said carefully. She didn’t want him to read between the lines and end up ruining the beautiful friendship they shared. “Don’t get…weird.”

“Alright,” he said skeptically. She already knew that he was weird enough as it is.

“I think we should be each other’s first kiss. Just get it out of the way so we don’t have to worry about it,” she said quickly, firmly. She forced herself to believe that there was no ulterior motive behind her proposition. This was purely clinical, a normal thing. She didn’t want anything from Charles other than one simple kiss. Charles reared back a little, slightly dumbfounded. He was unsure. What did this mean for them? Did this mean she liked him? He wouldn’t mind that. The thought was a new one and it made him nervous.

“Come on, Charlie. I don’t want my first kiss to happen with some random guy. Please?” Her voice was light on his ears, unreal almost. He shared her sentiment; he didn’t really want to kiss a girl that didn’t know him the way she did. But the thought of another boy kissing her finalized his decision. He hated that mental picture.

All he did was nod.

With shaking fingers, she laid her hand over his on the dock between them. Biting down on her lip harshly, she stared at him. Charles gulped while returning her gaze. Time stilled around the two teenagers as they each leaned into their best friend. The kiss was simple, just lips against lips, but something about it sent up fireworks into the dead night. She was soft; he was nervous. Colors and light rippled across closed eyes. Chills ran rampant over skin.

When they broke apart, they were both breathless. Their eyes locked for only a split second before they snapped their attention back to the inky horizon. After a few seconds of complete, nervous silence, a giggle tore from her. Charles found himself laughing with her.

Their hands stayed intertwined between them on the last board of the dock.

*Present Day*

As you stroll down the streets that you once ran through as a little girl, you can’t help the nostalgia that warms your heart and brings a flush to your cheeks. It’s been too long since you’ve returned to your hometown. Something has always held you back. First it was school, then traveling, and now work. Since you moved away to college, you’ve gotten very good at avoiding this place and the histories that it holds. Even simply walking along the sidewalks, glancing at the shops and people, you find yourself becoming lost in the overwhelming weight of familiarity. There’s a complicated relationship between you and this small nation you once called home. As dearly as you love it, you nearly choke on all of the memories and emotions that rise helplessly to the surface. Joy is always accompanied with sorrow, gain with loss. Quietly, you contemplate exactly how you’re going to walk in the precarious balance of it all.

The soothing summer air and the simple caress of a cool ocean breeze does wonders to help ease your burden. Monaco’s bay has always been a place of rest for you. So, as you approach your destination, you try to mimic the sea’s power and adopt its peace. Rounding the stone gate, your feet automatically walk you down a path that you’ve followed countless times. Trees and grass and stones are scattered on both sides of the paved walk. Slowly, your eyes track over the names, names you’ve read so many times that you can nearly count them off by memory. These names you know so well, but never the people they belonged to. No, it was too late for that.

Your footsteps automatically slow as you reach the far corner of the grave yard. Sunshine spills through a nearby tree, casting sunspots over her stone. Your mother’s name is carved gracefully into the marker. Shaky legs guide you next to her, kneeling before her. With reverent fingers, you trace the letters of her name.

“Bonjour maman,” You whisper. Tears well in your eyes as you rest your hands in your lap, cradling the lilies you brought to leave for her. A far too familiar feeling flutters in your chest, rising into your throat. It’s the sort of darkness that makes you cold even when you can feel the sun on your skin. Loss does funny things to you– things that never go away. It’s something that you live with forever, but it grows smaller and smaller until you don’t notice it as often. Or until you come home and are reminded of everything that once was and never will be again.

Wiping at your eyes, you find yourself looking at another grave just across the path. The name fills you with the same feeling as your own mother’s. Hervé Leclerc.

You remember attending his funeral. Charles clung to your hand for the entire service. He was a mess. As he was lowered into the ground, Charles turned his head into your shoulder and sobbed. Everyone left, even his mother and brothers. They had to return to the house, but Charles couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. It was just the two of you standing there on the path between his father and your mother. You clutched onto each other and made a promise to never let go. And you never did.

Parts of you still clung onto Charles as if you were still those kids who played footie in the streets or ran around karting events like you owned the place. Even more, you lingered in the kiss you shared as teenagers. There was a bond that was formed that night that you’ve never fully understood. Your soul reached out to his and fused to it. You suppose that’s why you miss him so dearly, even after all of these years. Your friends say that you should hate him, despise him for not being the friend he said he would be. But you couldn’t. Mistakes and misjudgments and idiotic errors meant nothing compared to what you’ve both endured and shared with each other. Maybe you weren’t the best friends you used to be, or even friends at all, but those parts of you were still reserved for him. There was nothing you could do about that, even if you tried.

Sniffing and drying your eyes, you decided that you’ve wept enough. There are things to do and people to see. Pressing a kiss to your fingers and then pressing your hand to your mother’s headstone, you say a quick goodbye. You pull a single lily from the bouquet before gently leaving the rest at the grave. With sure steps, you cross the path towards the other grave.

“Monsieur Leclerc,” You say with a small smile as you reach down and leave the lily at the foot of his stone. Your fingers rest and drag across the rough stone as you stand to leave.

Walking out of the graveyard, you feel your grief sling itself across your shoulders. But, instead of weighing you down, it holds you tight. You can’t help but imagine the hands of your mother and the hands of your best friend’s father reaching out to you, spurring you on. There’s always joy where there is sorrow.

The walk back to your car is quick. The summer morning in Monaco is already bursting with life. People are racing around, elegant outfits thrown over elegant frames. Cars that are worth more than houses lazily strut about the curving streets. Towering buildings bustle with life at the beginning of a work day. The city is alive.

There’s a slow smile that creeps onto your face as you pull your sunglasses down to watch the scene unfold before you. So many lives happening all at once. You wonder what they’re all doing today, what stresses they hold or what excitements they harbor. Late summer in Monaco is a dreamscape. Sometimes, in moments like these, you wonder how you left for so long.

While staring out at the business that’s swallowed you up, you’ve forgotten to watch where you’re going. A shoulder knocks into yours harshly, sending you reeling backward. Your heel catches on a loose stone, sweeping your feet out from under you. But, before you find yourself crashing to the ground, someone’s hands wrap tightly around your waist, catching you. Your hands latch onto their arms, trying to steady yourself. The person who both nearly threw you against the pavement and saved you from doing so, returns you to an upright position.

“Sorry, I wasn’t-” he starts while pulling his sunglasses from his face.

“I’m so sorry, I-” you begin at the same time.

The two of you freeze mid-sentence. Slowly, you reach up and pull your sunglasses off your nose to really take him in. He’s grown so much since you saw him last. He was just a little boy then, still navigating the tail end of puberty. His hair used to be longer, his face pudgier. Long gone is that little boy you once knew. He’s a man now.

“Arthur?” His name slips from your lips as you stare at him. His eyes sparkle in the sun while a smile tears across his face. At least there are some things that don’t change.

Your name bubbles from his throat as he reaches out and pulls you into a crushing hug. Lifting you from the ground, he spins the two of you in a circle. Being in Monaco was already hard to adjust to, but seeing Arthur Leclerc is a whole new level of surreal.

When he finally sets you down, your hands don’t drop from his shoulders. It feels so good to see him. Your heart beams, painting your face with a smile so large it burns your cheeks.

“Look at you! You’re so…” you say, your hand reaching up to touch his face.

“Handsome?” he interjects with a wink.

“I was going to say old,” you answer, shaking your head at him. Same old Arthur. For another second, you just stare at each other. It’s been five years since you’ve seen each other last. Five years since you last saw any of them.

“Come on,” Arthur says suddenly, taking your hand in his. He’s pulling you after him firmly while he weaves through the foot traffic that’s overtaken the walkways. Your objections fall on deaf ears as he hauls you after him.

“I’m out to the shops with maman, she’ll want to see you,” Arthur says excitedly while leading you a few more doors down. He stops you in front of a small flower shop that you know well. It was always Pascale and your mother’s favorite. It doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that Pascale still shops here.

Wasting no time, Arthur pulls you through the door and across the shop floor to where Pascale is. Her head is bent over an array of bouquets, a basket tucked around her arm. She’s dressed in light pastels, her hair done expertly. The sight of her makes your chest ache with memory. Watching her this way, without her knowing you’re there, feels like a scene in a movie made from your past. How many times have you watched her shop or cook or care for everyone? This moment plays on a loop in your mind but with different settings, scenery, clothes, jobs, people.

“Maman,” Arthur says, his hand leaving yours. He approaches his mother, resting a hand on her shoulder. She wraps her arm around his middle, flashing him a smile you can’t see. Arthur leans down to whisper in her ear before glancing back at you. Pascale’s gaze follows his, confusion evident on her face.

It lasts only a fraction of a moment until her graceful eyes meet yours. Time stills and everything becomes just as it’s supposed to be. You can hear the soft in and out of your own breathing, the thrum of your heart in your chest. Her basket tumbles to the ground, discarded so she can throw her arms around you. It’s the second hug you’ve received today that you never expected. There’s something endlessly warm and comforting about Pascale’s arms being wrapped around you. The familiarity of it makes you want to sob into her shoulder.

“Oh, my girl, my sweet girl,” she hums into your hair, her hands rubbing up and down your back. The hug lasts however long she decides, her grip unerring and relentless. When she finally pulls away, she gives you two kisses on each cheek.

“Let me look at you,” she says warmly, clutching your hands in hers while staring you down. Pascale’s eyes travel from your head to your toes and then back up. Twice.

“You’ve always been beautiful, like your mother,” she says with a tsk. But you can hear the slight quiver in her voice. Your mom was her best friend. It isn’t easy to lose a best friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper back, afraid that if you speak any louder, your voice would break. Staring at your mother’s best friend and the mother of your childhood best friend, there’s a special type of love you feel blossoming in your chest. No one could replace your mother, but Pascale did a damn fine job filling in where she could.

Pascale invites you to join her and Arthur shopping for the rest of the morning. As you travel from shop to shop, feeling 12 years old again, you chat amongst yourselves. The Leclerc's grill you with questions to which you answer as best you can. In return, they answer all of your questions.

However, there’s one subject neither of you dare to bring up: Charles.

“Have you seen your father recently?” Pascale asks while inspecting a tomato, disdain clear in her voice.

“No, I haven’t heard from him since he moved,” you answer honestly, while tying off a bag of lemons to place in her basket. Your father was never that involved, always gone on business. When he was around, he was brutal and full of hate. When your mother died, he became so distant, you barely considered him your father anymore. The end of your relationship occurred when you finally left for college. You haven’t heard from him since, spare one time bothered to call to let you know he was moving to London.

Pascale lets out a string of curses under her breath. It brings a small smile to your face. Pascale will always have your back. There’s never been a time where the Leclercs haven’t been there for you. They’ve supported you through thick and thin, and always made you promise to look to them for help whenever you needed it. You feel so grateful to be loved so fully by a family, especially when you didn’t really have one of your own.

“You’ll come for lunch,” Pascale says as she finishes up her shopping. Your eyes dart over to Arthur’s. An amused look passes over his face, a classic, crooked smile lighting up his features. Sighing and shaking your head, you both know there’s no way you’re getting out of this.

“No sense in fighting it.” Arthur says while slinging an arm around your shoulders. You just nod in agreement while following Pascale to checkout. After hauling all of the shopping to the car, Arthur drives the three of you home.

The Leclerc house is just as you remember it. As you walk into the foyer and take off your shoes, peace falls over you. It’s as if you’ve stepped into a time capsule. The walls haven’t been painted since you were ten and were forced to help. The bright decorations and life that they preserve call to your childhood. As Pascale and Arthur disappear deeper into the house, you find yourself lingering behind. Eyes taking in every sight, fingers reveling in every touch, nose breathing deep the smells of the past, and between it all strings of history hang. Everything is a reminder of what once was.

A chill cascades down your back as you round into the dining room and watch from a distance as the youngest Leclerc and his mother dance about the kitchen to put away the groceries. Their soft chatter draws a lump into your throat. How long has it been since you were in a place filled with words like theirs spoken from the mouths of people you love like them? As much as your heart aches, it also swells with profound comfort.

Pascale whips some delicious sandwiches up for the three of you to snack on while you continue to jabber on about the last five years. Apparently, your frequent calls and letters were not enough to tide this woman over. She wants every last detail about where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing there.

By the time you’re long done eating, you’ve laughed so hard you’ve nearly cried, and fought tears back so desperately, a headache is coming on.

“I’ve got to go,” Arthur says after checking his watch. Your eyes fall to your phone to check the time. It’s well past four in the afternoon. Your eyes widen in surprise, not realizing how long you’ve been with the two of them. Your carefully planned out day has gone horribly askew. But, you couldn’t be happier. You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to see the Leclercs or not while you were here. Fate intervened and decided for you.

Arthur says his goodbyes, kissing both you and his mother on the cheek before clearing the plates and disappearing into the kitchen. Pascale shifts in her seat to get more comfortable, signaling that she isn’t quite done with you yet. Smiling at her, you follow suit, trying to get comfy in your chair. Just as she opens her mouth to ask you another question, the sound of the front door opening steals away your attention.

“Arthur? Did you forget something?” Pascale calls out, a frown coming over her face. It was odd that he would come through the front door. When Arthur doesn’t answer, Pascale calls out to him again. Soft footsteps coming toward you through the hallway is the only answer the two of you receive.

Silently, you watch as Pascale watches the doorway to the foyer. As the footsteps draw closer and then stop, Pascale’s face twists into a hundred different emotions. Her eyes flick over to yours once, then bounce back to the doorway. Confused, you start to turn around in your chair.

“Maman, I’m…” A familiar voice dances into your ears. Surprise turns you the rest of the way around, finding him standing there in the doorway. A rush of emotions bursts from your chest, making your fingers go numb and your head go fuzzy. The sunlight bounces around the room and splashes him in warm tones. His tousled brown hair, warmly tanned skin, and wide eyes look achingly similar to when you saw him last. Of course you’ve seen pictures of him over the years– it was unavoidable when he was the Charles Leclerc. But, nothing compares to seeing him standing right in front of you. Nothing compares to him seeing you too.

“Charles!” Pascale says, bounding out of her chair to wrap her son up in a long overdue hug. Your presence has thrown this whole encounter off its axis. Shamefully, you remember that you, in fact, are not actually part of this family. Charles wasn’t expecting you and now you’ve ruined his surprise.

You let your eyes fall from his, taking a keen interest in a specific crack found in the floorboards. Listening silently to the small chatter that passes between the mother and son, you feel suddenly out of place. It makes your heart ache that you don’t feel like you fit here with Charles now. Suddenly the house that was just full of life and memories feels cold and foreign.

Urged out of your seat by this sudden revelation, you stand quietly so as not to disturb the two people in front of you. Quickly, you go about collecting your things. All you can think about is how to get out of here as quickly as possible. There’s a part of you that wishes someone would stop you, hold you by the arm and keep you from running away. But that’s the wish of a fool, of a lovesick teenager. This is real life, and you know better than anyone that things rarely turn out the way you hoped they would. Hope is a dangerous game that you played for far too long.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” You say quickly, placing a hand on Pascale’s shoulder. She turns toward you with wide eyes. There’s a tenderness and worry there that makes you nearly stop in your tracks. There’s a question poised on her lips, the one that would make you stay here like you so desperately want to. But you can’t, you won’t.

“But I really have to get going. It’s been lovely to see you again. I’ll make sure to pop in and say goodbye before I leave.” The words roll easily off your tongue, but you know that you won’t be stopping by again. The looming presence beside you makes sure of that. You’ve barely looked him in the eye, let alone spoken to him, and you can hardly handle it. Coming here to say goodbye to all of them again isn’t something you could handle.

Wrapping Pascale up in a warm hug, you hold her for an extra second or two. You’re not sure when you’ll be able to do it again, so you savor every moment. Kissing her on either cheek, you whisper one last goodbye.

Finally, you turn around and are face to face with your past. His eyes are trained on you, relentless and green. There’s a small frown that paints deep lines between his eyebrows. His pink lips are down turned on a freshly shaven face. From this distance, you can smell his cologne and see the uneven rise and fall of his chest. You haven’t seen him in years– felt his presence like this in years. How can it feel like centuries ago, but nearly like it was yesterday as well? So much has changed and yet everything has stayed the same.

“Charles,” you say curtly, your lips coming to rest in a strained line. He blinks once and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something. However, he never gets the chance. You’re slipping between the two of them, all but sprinting to the front door. Quickly, you yank on your shoes, tear open the front door, and jog down towards the road. A thousand and one thoughts take over your mind as you begin your walk towards your hotel.

Seeing Charles was the last thing you thought you’d be doing on this trip. He was always traveling for his job. Formula One took him all over the globe. But, in some cruel turn of fate, he ended up here, your home, at the same time as you. All of the warmth that had been swirling around you all day, slowly accumulating and healing you, dissipated in the blink of an eye. Even in the heat of the day, you felt frostbitten.

Wandering around, you didn’t feel up to returning to your hotel room yet. Isolating yourself in that cookie-cutter, dimly lit room seemed like torture. Instead, you decided to walk the town once more. Walking always helps you sort things out. Whenever you were mad or frustrated or sad, you always went on a walk.

The bustle in the streets allowed you to slip away for a while, unnoticed by everyone around you. For now, you were simply a cog in the machine. There’s nothing more freeing than being no one for a little while. You can let all of your cares and concerns slide away as you’re swallowed up by life.

As you walk, you find yourself passing by a young boy holding the hand of his mother. You wouldn’t have cast them another glance if your eye hadn’t been caught by the bright red hat the boy donned. The yellow Ferrari crest sat atop the hat and the perfect ‘16’ etched into the brim let you know that this boy was sporting his favorite racing driver’s merch. He stumbled along with his mother’s hand in one of his and a toy formula car in the other.

While they pass you by, you can’t help but paint the features of a young Charles over that little boy’s features. He looked a lot like him. Shaggy brown hair, big eyes, and happy smirk constant on his lips.

It was a little silly how much you thought of your past. You used to spend hours going over every detail, every happy memory, and every sad one too. Sometimes, you even thought that you might live in your past to hide from your future. But it stopped a while ago. You somehow started to turn it off, to not think about him or this place.

But it’s impossible to do when you’re literally standing in the heart of your hometown. Reminders of your past are at every corner. It’s inescapable. Memories are attached to everything here. Your past is intertwined with this place, these people.

If you can’t escape it, you might as well embrace it.

You decide to head for the one place you haven’t yet dared to go. By the time you get down to the bay, the crowds have lessened. People are returning to their houses to eat supper and prepare for another work day. That means that the docks will be quieter tonight.

The sun is slipping towards the horizon as you meander about the maze of ships and yachts. Soft splashing sounds and the glittering of pearly white boats surrounds you. This was the world that you were born into, of castles on water and seas and skies that glitter like champagne. However, you couldn’t feel more detached. You belonged here once, amongst these starlets and superheroes, but not anymore. Charles’ return made that all too clear. This was his world, his domain. Treading here was dangerous, a promise to slip back into the past.

Slipping further down the dock, you make your way toward the place you’d always come to sit. Just as you’re about to turn down the row, your eyes catch on a figure already sitting at the very end. His arms are out behind him, his head leaned back while his legs dangle off the edge of the dock. He’s off to the right side. He always sat on the right side.

It’s undoubtedly Charles. You could tell from a mile away. It’s the way he holds himself, the way he slouches, the way his hair tosses in the wind. Your heart constricts in your chest as you see him sitting there in a spot that was only ever meant for the two of you.

Slowly, you make your way down the dock. He’s been waiting for you here. What that means, you have no idea. But one thing is certain, he wants to see you, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

Without a word, you sit down next to him, letting your feet hang over the water. He doesn’t look at you, nor you at him. Instead, you both just look out over the water in silence. This is what you were both practiced at. When there was something to be said, but no one knew how to say it, this is what you did. There’s something about the sea that always helped figure things out, it always healed the hurt. Maybe it will do the same today as it did in the past.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in the smell of the bay. You’ve always loved the ocean, it’s power and beauty. When you were just a girl, you were jealous of it. You remember those feelings well. A little girl’s jealousy. But still, there was truth to it. You wish desperately for the power of the ocean now, as you sit here with the embodiment of your past. You hope endlessly for its serenity as you battle the emotions inside of you.

Cracking your eyes open again, you dare to turn your head towards your old best friend. Surprise ripples through you when you find him already looking at you. Your eyes lock and it’s finally time to face him.

For the first time in five years, you really let yourself study him. His hair is long, but styled well. It suits him. His eyes are bright, but not entirely joyful. There are new lines and spots on his face, showing that he’s growing up. There’s a pleasant amount of stubble on his jaw. His lips are still pink and lovely. His neck has grown large due to his occupation, along with all of his other muscles.

Your mind flicks back to that night on the dock where you shared your first kiss. That little teenage boy you used to know has grown into this gorgeous man that sits in front of you. He’s not just physically fuller, he’s larger than life. It feels nearly impossible that this is the Charles that you once knew, the Charles that you once loved.

“I knew you’d come out here eventually,” Charles says, his lips tilting up into a half-hearted smile. One of his dimples pops for just a second before falling away again. The sight is so familiar it makes your heart race.

Clenching your jaw, you just nod. What are you supposed to say to him? There are a million things poised on your lips, but you can’t bring yourself to voice any of them. Fear of the answers to your questions holds you back.

“Want to talk about it?” Charles says coyly, a shy smile playing across his mouth as he tilts his head to the side. This pulls a small laugh from you. He’s quoting himself from all those years ago when you sat here together. You’d stormed out of your house when your dad did something or other and ended up here. It was the night that you kissed. It was the night you fell in love with my best friend.

“No,” You answer with a small smile, now quoting yourself. Charles sighs while shaking his head. Your name rolls off his tongue and it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re both teenagers with both parents still alive and big dreams waiting out on the horizon. Enamored as ever, you look him deep in the eyes.

With one last deep breath of ocean air, you take the plunge.

“You never gave me a reason.” A simple sentence that means everything.

When his father died, he was still working on getting an F1 contract. He had lied to his father on his deathbed about signing with Ferrari. He was so torn up about it that his entrance into F1 was tainted. He became obsessed and threw himself into the sport with everything he had. For a while, there was nothing but racing for him. Charles wasn’t Charles for a long time.

When he started racing in F1 for Alfa Romeo, you were left behind. Contact fizzled out until one day he was just completely gone. He never called, never responded to any of your texts or voicemails. After a few months, you got the message and stopped trying. Nearly five years of radio silence and now here he is, sitting in front of you.

“You never even bothered to say goodbye.” Your voice is just a broken whisper. The breeze floating over the water whips at your hair and cheeks. Quiet sloshing of waves is all you hear for a while. Charles stares at you with glossy eyes. His mouth is slightly ajar, waiting for a suitable answer to come to him.

“I’m sorry,” He says, that frown coming back onto his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was lost and young and stupid.”

You hum in concurrence.

“By the time I realized what I did, you were long gone. I didn’t know if you’d even want to hear from me,” he admits.

You think about all the times in the last five years that you longed for his call. How many times have you yearned to hear his voice? To see him again? Countless. Even in the several short-lived relationships you’ve had over the years, you’ve shamefully compared them all to Charles. There was never a day that you didn’t want to hear from your best friend. In all the hiding and avoiding that you do, there’s no way to skew the truth.

“I missed you,” Charles goes on when you don’t answer him. You can feel him staring at you, but your eyes have strayed once more to the horizon. His admission to missing you makes you feel like you might fall over. The one thing that’s always torn you up time and time again was not knowing what he was feeling like going through all of this. There were nights in the very beginning where you stared at your ceiling thinking of him and wondering if he was doing the same. Your soul longed for him then, just as it does now.

“All of those letters you wrote to maman? She sent them to me when she was finished with them. I keep them in my journal that I take with me everywhere,” Charles says while leaning toward you. “I read them over and over when I miss you so much I can’t breathe.”

He’s read your letters? You think about all the things you’ve ever said in those letters to Pascale. You bore your soul to her in some, explaining your battle with grief or what shitty guy you’d been seeing. You explained your schooling ups and downs, as well as your careers. Your life over the last five years could be easily traced through those letters. And Charles had read every single one. He’s known you more than you’ve known him in these years spent apart. Maybe you should be mad at Pascale for giving them to Charles, or at Charles for reading them, but you’re not. You’d never hidden anything from Charles before, why would that stop?

A warm hand finds a home on the side of your jaw, guiding your face away from the horizon and toward him. His eyes lock onto yours. Silently, you wonder when he got this close. His fingers hold onto your jaw, not letting you turn away from him again.

“I miss you so much I can’t breathe,” He says again, his voice just a whisper. It catches on the breeze and floats out to sea, never to be heard again. Your heart is hammering in your chest while your mind goes blank. Your body doesn’t register this as reality. Charles is here, holding you in his hand at the end of your dock in Monaco. This scenario has played out in your dreams time and time again. The love you’d hidden away breaches the surface, pouring from you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

“I miss you, too,” you admit freely for the first time in years. Your Charles finally gives you a smile that makes him look like himself.

Now, as he looks at you, there’s clarity in his eyes. Those green eyes that you watched grow and leave and now return are calling you to him. You understand now that you’ve both suffered enough. There’s been too much loss for there to be no gain. Finally, finally, here it is. The moment you’ve waited for since the last time you sat on this dock so close together. It’s your time.

“Charlie,” you whisper into the evening air. He perks up at his name on your lips, his eyes falling there. Every inch of you yearns to press into his touch, to never let go of it. But you’re still unsure. There’s always been more than best friends for you with Charles. You have to tell him that. It’s been hidden away inside of you for too long. If nothing else comes of this, even if you two fade into oblivion, at least you’ll have said it.

“I loved you,” you say earnestly. “I love you.”

Silence greets you. His face searches yours for a minute, his eyes wide and unreadable. Terror squeezes your chest, an ache of admitting a secret kept hidden away for too long. Desperately, you wish you could look away from him, towards your beloved horizon. Maybe you could hide yourself there. But Charles’ fingers on your jaw keep you held steadfast in place.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says finally, his face inching closer. You nearly fall over at his words. It’s a tease at what you once said to him right here, all those years ago. He remembers everything. Just like you.

“But don’t get weird,” he quips, a smile coming across his face just before he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips to yours. You return his smile and accept his kiss. His fingers are strong on your jaw as he pulls you in deeper. The caress of his lips on yours and the rub of his stubble feels heavenly. As many times as you can imagine a moment, it never compares to the real thing. Wild dreams and fantasies don’t even touch having Charles’ skin on yours.

His free hand drifts down to your waist, bringing you in closer. His touch is needy, his kiss ravenous. It conveys years of desperation from both of you. Not only does it light up this moment, but it brings new life to your intertwined past. Years upon years of spending days and nights together all come down to this moment. This is where two pasts that danced around each other merge into one new life.

The sparks that fly off of the two of you bound over the water, reaching the horizon and further. The city that you were born in, the boy you were born for, and the life you were destined to discover, all wrap their arms around you at once. Finally, for the first time in years, you feel at home.

Charles hauls you onto his lap, his hands strong against your waist. Pulling away from the second kiss you’ve ever shared, you’re sure it won’t be the last. No, there’s a lifetime of moments like these ahead of you.

Charles rests his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged mimicking your own. His eyes are shut as he runs his hands up and down your back. Sighing, you lean into his touch.

“I love you, too,” He says after a few minutes of silence. “Always have.”

A lump rises in your throat as tears rush to your closed eyes. Even after five years of suffering, you can’t help but forgive him. These five years that you’ve spent apart have grown you both into the people you are today. Call it fate, destiny, divine intervention, whatever it may be, but something tore you apart so one day you could be together again. There was healing that needed to happen in both of you while you were separated. But now there was healing to be done together.

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” you can’t help but tease, your voice watery. Charles’ laugh vibrates against your hands that are pressed to his chest. He opens his eyes to look at you. His eyes are tearlined but finally filled with that joy that you’ve been desperate to see. He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted. You’re his biggest dream.

He pulls you into another searing kiss. Fireworks dance behind your eyelids as he clutches onto you. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open in a gasp. He tightens his arms around your waist, so you think he’s pulling you closer. But instead, he’s grabbing onto you as tightly as possible so you can’t fight him as he leans forward off the dock. The two of you roll off the front of the dock, splashing into the summertime sea.

When you bob up to the surface, you find Charles treading water. He’s laughing so hard that he’s barely staying afloat. For a split second, you allow yourself to enjoy the view. He’s completely doused, his light colored shirt plastered onto his skin. There’s a childlike joy radiating off of him.

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” he admits while swimming over to you. Shaking your head, you splash him in the face as he draws in close. In retaliation, he wraps you up in his arms and kisses you so hard you fear it might bruise. Nonetheless, you kiss him right back, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Come on, let’s go back,” you say just as the pair of you are about to slip under water. Charles presses a chaste last kiss to your lips before swimming off towards the dock.

As you turn to swim after him, you cast one last look over your shoulder to the watery horizon. The sea really did what it does best: it healed.

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jaeeyaaasworld · 10 months ago

Text

Single Mother Next Door - CL16

Featuring: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: reader is a single mother, mention of an awful ex, reader was in an abusive relationship, Charles is literally so sweet that it makes my own teeth rot, GLASSES CHARLES (of course it's a warning)

Requested: Yes/No

"OH MY GOD, LANDO"

Charles yelled without even realizing, his headphones blocking even his own voice.

it was one in the morning and his loud laugh was resonating in the whole apartment.

what he didn't know was that, on the other side of his wall, there was a little eleven months old baby trying to sleep, with little success because of his loud yells.

the baby started crying right on the spot, making his mom run to him from the kitchen, where she was still cleaning.

"oh I know, baby"

you whispered, picking your baby up and trying to calm him down as possible, but as soon as the kid seemed to close his eyes for a little longer another yell came from the apartment next to yours.

you couldn't take it anymore, you had to do your stuff and quickly go to sleep to at least have a few hours of sleep before you had to get up and get your baby in daycare to go to work.

so, with the baby in your arms, you walked out of your apartment and knocked on your neighbor's door a few times.

Charles was turning off his stream and taking his headphones off when he heard someone knocking on his door, making him frown his eyebrows.

he looked at the time and it was 1 AM, who could be knocking on his door at 1 AM?

Charles got up from his seat and walked out of the room to go answer the door.

as soon as he opened the door he was met with a pretty young woman with a toddler in her arms, she was almost panicking as the baby in her arms was crying while hugging her neck tightly.

"hi, I'm the girl that lives next door. I'm really, really sorry to spoil your fun, but my toddler can't sleep and he keeps crying so can I ask you to, please, maybe, keep your voice slightly lower?"

you started rambling, rocking up and down with the baby in your arms to try and soothe him to sleep.

Charles slightly widened his eyes at the sight, gulping the lump that had formed in his throat.

"yeah, of course. I'm really sorry, I didn't know you had a toddler, I never heard him cry so..."

he started, as the toddler got up from your shoulder as he heard Charles' new voice.

his eyes were a bit puffy and his nose was a bit red from crying, he was watching Charles couriosly, making Charles smile at him while bending down slightly to see eye to eye with the sleepy toddler.

"hi, baby. I'm really sorry if I woke you up, I promise I will try to keep it down in the future for you and your momma"

Charles smiled at the toddler, making you smile at the interaction between the two.

"well, I'm sorry if I bothered you. I'm gonna go back to my apartment, see you around maybe..."

you said in an interrogative way.

"oh- Charles, nice to meet you"

he said with a smile.

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you as well. oh- and thank you for understanding"

you replied with the same smile.

a smile that made Charles realize actually how beautiful you were.

you were tired, slight bags under your eyes as your tired smile stretched yours lips.

"i-it's nothing, really"

he stuttered out a bit and his cheeks turned slightly red as you entered back into your apartment, your toddler collapsing back on your shoulder as he tried to sleep again.

Charles closed his apartment door behind his back, his eyes still widened as he scrambled to search for his phone and dialing Lando's phone number.

Lando was the closest one to him, as he lived in the same apartment building in Monaco just two floors above him.

"what is it? we just got off the stream, Charles"

his friend asked, as soon as he picked up the call.

"is there a chance that you know a mother that lives in this building?"

Charles whispered to his phone, he now knew that his walls were thin as paper.

"I don- I don't think there's a mother in our apartment building, at least in my floor"

he said, thinking about the people that he saw enter or exit the hall while he was in there for any reason, but then he frowned his eyebrows.

"why are you whispering, mate?"

Lando asked his friend, confused on why his friend would whisper like that while he should be alone in his house.

"well, my walls are thin as shit and my neighbor can hear basically everything I say"

Charles whispered again, making Lando burst out laughing at his comment.

"are you serious, mate?"

he asked, still laughing as hard as Charles as ever heard and making the man sigh as he closed his eyes and started rubbing his fingers on his closed eyelids.

"yes, she is a mother and I've been keeping her toddler awake the whole night"

Charles said, making Lando laugh even harder at him and his situation.

"oh my god, mate. I would never want to be in your shoes. did she lash out at you or did she send her husband for you?"

Lando asked Charles, still giggling.

"no, actually she came to my door really calmly and asked politely if I could keep my voice down a bit"

Charles told his friend, throwing his own body on the couch while still keeping his phone to his ear to still hear his friend talk.

"and how was she? hot?"

asked Lando.

"Lando, you only think about this stuff... yeah, she's hot"

he whispered back to his friend and getting another laugh in return, but this time Lando's laugh made Charles smile and let out a small chuckle.

"go to sleep now, mate"

Lando said, a big yawn came from his side of his phonecall, which made Charles yawn with him.

"yeah, I better go to sleep now. goodnight, Lando"

Charles greeted, getting an hum from Lando as he hung up the phone, and he got up from his place on the couch to walk into his bedroom to get dressed in his pyjamas and go to sleep.

a toddler's cry could be heard from the other side of the wall, making him stop in his track and look towards the wall where the cry was coming from.

he knew it wasn't his fault this time, but he couldn't help but feel guilty for waking him up the first time.

so he felt in the right and a little in dept to try and make the baby calm down as soon as possible so that you could go to sleep and finally get the rest you needed.

Charles walked towards the piano in his apartment, sitting in the little seat that was in front of the black and white tiles.

he placed his hands on the tiles delicately and started playing one of his songs slowly and lowly, he was sure that the sound of the music could be heard from the other side of the wall, reaching his neighbor's apartment.

Charles slowly stopped hearing the sound of the toddler's cry, a smile showing up on his face as he kept playing softly for your kid.

after a few minutes he stopped playing, the sound of silence was so good, and just the thought that he was able to make your toddler stop crying fumbled with his heart.

he reluctantly got up from the seat and walked back to his bedroom, laying on his bed with his arm under his head, staring at his ceiling and still thinking about you and your cute little baby.

time skip: a week later

"mate- how is it going with the neighbor?"

Lando asked Charles as they walked into the hall of their apartment building, going towards the elevator while taking their home keys out of their pockets.

"I didn't see her since that day, but that night her kid started crying again and I played the piano for him"

Charles replied, pressing his floor button on the little plate in the elevator, and Lando gasped lightly at what he said.

"and it worked?"

he asked as the elevator doors closed with them inside.

"of course it worked, what did you think?"

Charles chuckled.

"I did it a couple times and he always calms down really quickly"

he said as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to Charles' floor, and as soon as the doors opened a man's voice yelling could be heard.

"please- calm down, there's people sleeping"

a little female voice was heard right after the yelling, making Charles and Lando both step out of the elevator and look more into the situation.

Charles' eyes widened immediately as he saw a man in front of your door, yelling and pushing you into the wall.

"you think I care about the people sleeping on this fucking floor? everyone should know here that you're a fucking whore"

the man yelled again, grabbing your jaw harshly and pushing you into the wall aggressively.

Charles couldn't take it anymore and he decided it was time for him to step in and stop the whole altercation.

he walked up to you two and grasped the man's wrist to yank him away from you, and the two men finished eye to eye, even though the man was slightly shorter then Charles.

"what are you doing, mate?"

Charles asked the man, putting himself between the man and you, as the man scoffed.

"and who are you, huh? her new play thing?"

he asked while gesturing his hands around, making Charles furrow his eyebrows and reach behind himself to flush your body to his back, your hands grabbing his shirt at his sides tightly.

"what if? who even are you?"

Charles asked, nodding his chin towards him and making a step forwards in almost a threatening way.

"you know, the father of the kid you are probably acting like a father to?"

the man said, making Charles realize that he was probably your ex and the father of your kid.

Charles stayed silent, deciding that it was time to end this whole thing right now before it escalated any further.

"when are you gonna let me see my kid, Y/n?"

the man asked, bending his body to the side to look at you, but Charles body blocked his whole sight and he couldn't even get a glimpse of you.

"when he is able to tell me what happens"

you say, getting into your house quickly and closing the door behind your back with a loud sound.

"this bitch-"

the man tried to get close to the door of your apartment, but Charles stopped him, basically getting in his face.

"if you don't get out of this building as soon as I can even think about it, I will get to know where you work, where you live and take everything down real soon"

he said, making the man take a few steps back, his face a little paler than earlier but still trying to be big and bad.

"and how would you do that, huh? who even are you?"

the man asked, making Charles scoff.

"you don't need to know, the only thing you need to know is that here you will probably see my face everywhere in Monaco and you will never be able to forget about what I did to your life"

the man started taking slow steps back, walking towards the end of the corridor, where the elevator was still open and waiting for him.

as this all happened, Charles realized that Lando was still standing there a bit shocked and staring at him like he was crazy.

"can you check that he really gets out? I need to check on her"

he said, turning towards your door as soon as Lando nodded his head at his request and walked to the elevator right after the man.

Charles softly knocked on your door.

"go away"

you said from the inside, making Charles' heart clench.

"it's Charles, can you open the door, please?"

he asked as softly and lowly as possible.

you slowly opened the door, letting him walk inside, careful not to step onto some toys that your kid had left around.

a little sniffle came from you that were behind him and Charles turned towards you to pull you into a tight hug.

"you wanna talk about it?"

he asked you softly, getting a shake of your head in return.

"it's okay, I don't need to-"

his words were cut off by a baby's cry that made you get out of the hug, but Charles stopped you while putting his hands on your upper arms.

"can I go?"

Charles asked, getting an hesitant nod from you and going towards the little bed that was in the living room to get the baby in his arms.

he started swaying side to side, humming lowly the melody of his song that he usually played on the piano to calm him down, while Y/n sat on the small couch that was on the side of the small bed.

the baby slowly started calming down, getting back to sleep pretty quickly so that Charles could place the baby back down onto the bed and sit on the couch next to you.

"he was abusive"

you started, making Charles look at you sweetly.

"you don't have to-"

Charles got cut off by you.

"no, I have to"

you said, taking in a deep breath and continuining on what you were saying.

"he was abusive, but when I got pregnant with Joe I decided that it was time for us to go. I couldn't bare loose my kid because of him, I lost already too much because of him. so I went away but he soon found out where I was working and where I was living and I had to change again. I was able to do eleven months living here, but now he found out and I don't know what to do. I mean- you were here now but you will not be here all the time and I would never expect you to and-"

you started rambling really quickly, making Charles stop you with an hand.

"you can trust me that he will not bother you anymore around here"

he said, drawing a low giggle from you that made his eyebrows furrow.

"did you threaten him or something?"

you asked jokingly as Charles smiled at your soft giggle.

"yeah, something like that"

he replied jokingly, with another low chuckle.

"thank you, anyway"

you suddenly said as Charles smiled at you.

"for what?"

he asked, even though he could imagine what it was for, he still wanted to hear you say that.

"for playing the piano for my son and for protecting me today"

you said, looking at him with a soft smile that made Charles' heart skip a beat.

"that's really nothing"

he said, returning the same smile back at you.

"hey, uhm... I know, maybe it isn't the best time to ask something like that but, would you go on a date with me sometime? nothing soon, I mean- if you're ready soon would be lovely but if you're not it's okay- I'll stop talking, yeah"

Charles rambled in embarrassment, getting a small chuckle from you on his side.

"I would love to, but Joe-"

you didn't even get to say anything that Charles already found the solution to any problem that could have popped up, as he probably had already thought about these type of problems.

"you could both come to my house and I could even play the piano for him so that he could fall asleep while you rest a bit with me"

he tried, making you chuckle and nod your head.

"then... tomorrow at 7 PM?"

Charles asked for confirmation, getting a nod in return as you both got up from the couch and walked towards your apartment door.

"well, goodnight, Charles. see you tomorrow"

you said, opening your arms to give him an hug.

"goodnight, Y/n"

he replied, tightening the hug just a tiny bit before letting go and exiting your apartment to enter his own.

time skip: the day after at 7 PM

a soft knock on Charles' door stopped his attempts at cooking to dry his hands on his apron to go open his door.

the sight of you dressed up in a cute dress with a big bag on your shoulder and Joe on your hip made Charles gasp slightly.

"you look so good"

Charles said, placing an hand on your upper arm to lean over and kiss your cheek, then turning towards Joe and taking him from your arms to throw him in the air playfully.

"and aren't you handsome all dressed up like a true gentleman"

he complimented the little kid, that was dressed up in a toddler sized tux, placing him on his hip and taking the big bag from your shoulder and placing it on his own shoulder.

"you look good as well, so domestic and so gentleman taking all my bags"

you complimented, smiling widely at Charles and getting on your tiptoes to place an hand on his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

"oh- I'm trying to cook you pasta, the last time I tried cooking it was kinda crunchy, but this time, I put a timer on the right time"

he said, placing the bag down on a barstool and still holding Joe on his hip while he went over to the kitchen to check on the pasta he was cooking.

you watched the whole scene from the doorstep of the kitchen, watching your date cook in his kitchen with your baby on his hip like he was his own kid.

"Joe eats the same things we do, right? I did some research yesterday and google told me that eleven months old eat the same thing adult do"

he asked, searching your face for something to confirm or deny what he was saying and getting a sure nod in return.

the timer on his phone ringed and you took Joe from Charles' arms so that he could get the pasta out of the water and into the pan with the condiment.

he plated everything as you sat down at the table with Joe on your leg, Charles placed the plates on the table and you started eating with Charles feeding Joe a few times when you were busy eating yourself.

the conversation kept flowing between you two and Joe soon got full and wanted to get down from your lap, but you tried to keep him in your lap since you didn't know if Charles was okay with your toddler snooping around in his apartment.

"oh, no. let him down, please. it's alright"

Charles said, noticing how you didn't want to let your kid down, so you finally let Joe get on the floor and roam around, you and Charles watching him as he reached a chair to slowly get up on his feet.

"he can walk?"

the man asked as you took a sip from your glass of wine.

"not yet, he's getting ready for it"

you replied, putting the wine glass down and getting up to go clean the dishes out of habit, but Charles stopped you by gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist that was grabbing the plate you used.

"oh no, I'll do it, you can chill with Joe over here"

he said, taking the dishes that you used and took them to the kitchen to place them in the sink, you smiled as he put his apron back on and you leaned on the kitchen island with your glass of wine while watching your son trying to paddle around and falling to his butt sometimes.

you watched around his living room, as Joe got closer to his piano, and the long line of big champagne bottles on his shelf caught you eye.

"what's up with all those bottles?"

you asked him, as you put your glass down to go to your kid as he started crawling towards Charles' couch.

"they're the champagne bottles from my podiums"

he explained quickly to you, since he was trying to load the dishwasher as quick as possible to get back to you and your kid.

"that's so cool"

you said, smiling up at the bottles as you sat on his couch as your son kept crawling around the coffee table in front of it.

you looked at the time and noticed that it was already 9:45 PM, looking at your son and how he started rubbing his eyes with sleep, picking him up from the ground and walking towards the kitchen to let Charles know.

"hey, Joe is really sleepy, so I think is time for me to go back"

you said, a sad smile on your face, you really didn't want to go back to your apartment yet, but you couldn't leave your son alone to get back here.

"or you could let Joe sleep on my bed and you could come back here with me- I mean, if you want to and if your comfortable of course"

he said, rubbing his neck shyly, his cheeks slightly red from embarrassment, making you chuckle.

"are you sure? that would mean that you would have to endure me for the whole night"

you warned him, since you couldn't pick up Joe in the middle of the night to take him back to your own apartment.

but your warning made Charles chuckle and smile warmly at you as he closed the loaded dishwasher and pulled off his apron.

"I could endure your company my whole life and never get tired of it, mon ange"

he said, getting closer to you and placing his hand on your upper arm with a loving smile.

"oh- that's so cheesy of you"

you teased him with a roll of your eyes and a smile.

"I'm gonna play the piano for Joe as you put him to sleep, is that good?"

Charles asked, getting a nod from you as you walked towards his room with the lights turned off as Joe already slumped on your shoulder.

the first notes of Charles song started playing and Joe was already starting to relax on your shoulder as you started rocking your body to slowly pull him to sleep.

as the song was done for the second time you were getting out of Charles' room, pulling the door almost closed behind your back.

Charles noticed you really quickly, turning around in his piano's seat with a smile as you smiled back at him.

he placed one of his legs on the other side of the seat, so that you could sit on front of him.

he patted the seat in front of him to call you over and you sat with both your legs to the outer side of the seat, sitting between his legs as his right hand went on your lower back and his left hand rested on your thigh.

"you look so pretty tonight, have I told you already?"

he whispered in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his words and his breath on your neck made you giggle softly.

"yes, a few times already"

you said, turning your face towards him and smiling at him, your noses almost touching from how close you were to each other faces.

a small giggle came from him as your noses touched, left to right and then back right to left.

"I wanna kiss you so bad, right now. can I do it? can I kiss you?"

he asked in a whisper, making you smile and nod at his words.

your lips finally touched and the kiss was soft and slow, a soft smile stretching your lips as his hands pulled you closer by your waist and you placed your hand on his jaw, pulling him closer and closer.

he smiled as he felt your lips stretch in a smile, slightly pulling away to look at you and smile widely.

"why are you smiling?"

Charles whispered on your lips, making you chuckle and using your hand to fix some of his hair that didn't want to stay in their place.

"cause you make me feel good..."

you said, pecking his lips just to pull back again and leave him leaning forward slightly to chase your lips.

"... and safe"

you added in a whisper, making him smile widely and turn you around so that you were leaning your back on his chest as he moved your hair to one side to expose your bare neck and shoulder because of your dress.

"I will treat you and Joe better then him, you can count on that"

Charles whispered, placing soft pecks to the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and making you giggle as his breath slightly tickled you.

"I'm gonna trust you on that"

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x you #f1 fluff #charles leclerc #charles x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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imraespace · 28 days ago

Note

hey um so i cank get ova da ganglish esp da chigiri wan 🥶🙏🙏 min for pt 2???

mor if der r that karasu and ninja gay, it wud be mo fn 🥶🙏🙏💯💯

AGAIN.. WHAT ARE YOU SAYING..

- you're speaking ganglish again!

THIS includes : texts genre: crack NOTE: LMAO THE REBLOGS UNDER THE FIRST ONE WITH PPL WHO DOESNT UNDERSTAND IT BUT STILL LOVE IT IS KILLING ME PART 1

PAIRINGS: KARASU, OTOYA, CHARLES, WC! KUNIGAMI, KAISER, NESS, YUKIMIYA, BAROU

IMRAESPACE masterlist

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mariclerc · 2 months ago

Text

Farm love | cl16

Summary: where your family farm serves as a set to film a Ferrari challenge.

Warning: fluff, shy reader, Charles being such a curious person, farm girl!reader.

The Tuscan sun beat down on the rolling hills, a vibrant canvas of gold and green stretching as far as the eye could see, the air hummed with the low drone of a helicopter circling overhead, a stark contrast to the usual peaceful quietude of your family farm. Today, however, was anything but usual, because your father, ever the pragmatist, had secured a filming opportunity with the Ferrari team, it was a challenge for their YouTube channel and social media, a decision that had initially filled you with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

You loved the farm, loved the rhythm of rural life, loved the animals. It was your sanctuary, your refuge from the noise and chaos of the outside world. The thought of a horde of camera crews and high-profile racing drivers invading your peaceful haven had made you somewhat anxious, so you decided to stay away from the filming and just watch from afar.

You found a quiet spot near the old stone barn, a vantage point that offered a clear view of the activity without requiring any direct interaction. You were perfectly content observing the chaos from afar, you were comfortable being alone.

The filming was in full swing, a chaotic ballet of camera crews, technicians, and the Ferrari drivers themselves. They moved with an almost otherworldly grace and precision on the track, but here, in the rustic setting of your family farm, their usual poise seemed to falter, they looked much less comfortable, less composed, but it was funny to see their reactions.

You're gently brushing a horse's mane, a bucket of apples nearby while Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz are struggling with some farm task—let's say milking a goat. Your father, a jovial man, is giving them instructions in rapid-fire Italian.

“Mamma mia... they look so lost.” you say quietly to yourself.

Charles, wiping sweat from his brow, accidentally bumps into a nearby hay bale, sending it tumbling.

“Charles! Careful!” Carlos says.

Charles laughs nervously. “Sorry, Carlos! This goat... she's... feisty!”

Your father, in rapid Italian, gestures wildly with his hands, Charles and Carlos look utterly bewildered. “Ma che state facendo?! Così non si fa! Prendete la cosa giusta!” (What are you doing?! That's not how you do it! Grab the right thing!)

You hesitantly approach, clutching a bucket of apples, you're still quite shy. “Scusi...” you say softly in Italian. (Excuse me...)

Charles and Carlos turn, surprised. Charles is particularly captivated by your presence.

“Ah, buongiorno!” he says a little awkwardly in Italian. (Good morning!)

“Buongiorno...” (Good morning...) “My father... he’s just...” you gesture vaguely towards your father. “Perhaps I could help?”

Carlos sighed. “Oh, grazie! To be honest, we're completely lost!”

Your Father grins. “Ah, finalmente!” (Finally!) he explains the task in simple Italian. “This is how you milk a goat properly! See? Gently and steady…”

You demonstrate the process calmly and efficiently. Charles and Carlos watch, mouths slightly agape.

“Wow… that was... so elegant.” Charles says in a whisper.

You blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing special. I’ve been doing this since I was little.”

“We’ve been trying for ages! It's like we have two left hands.” Carlos said and you giggled.

You continue to guide them gently, your touch light and assured. Charles is particularly attentive, watching your every move.

“You're so… graceful.” says Charles quietly and you blush even deeper, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, it’s just... I like animals… it’s just...” you say stammering a little.

Carlos nodded at your words. “It's clear you love them. They seem to love you back!”

After a while, they finally manage to milk the goat successfully, mostly thanks to your guidance.

Your father beams. “Bravi!” (Well done!) he claps Charles and Carlos on the back. “You were hopeless until she showed you the way!” he gestures towards you.

Charles smiles at you. “She's a natural. A true miracle worker.”

Later, after filming wraps up, your father offers them some homemade limoncello.

Charles sighs contently. “This has been...an amazing experience! I didn’t expect to learn so much about goat milking today.” he giggled.

You smiled shyly. “It was my pleasure to help with your challenge video!”

“I'm Charles, by the way. And this is Carlos.” he says while smiling softly.

“I'm y/n. It was nice to meet you both!” Charles extends his hand, you shake it gently, feeling a spark of connection.

After a while, the Ferrari team and Carlos have left, and Charles is lingering, showing genuine interest in your family farm, you're cleaning out a rabbit hutch while Charles is leaning against the fence, watching intently. The sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows across the fields.

You smile slightly. “Everything's cleaned up now.” you whispered softly.

“That's amazing how organized you are! And so gentle with the animals! I've never seen anything quite like it.” Charles said.

You shuggered. “It's just… habit I guess.”

Suddenly Charles approaches you. “Tell me more about the farm. Your family has been here for generations, right? Your father mentioned it earlier.” he said softly.

You nodded. “Yes, for over three hundred years. Each generation has done its part to maintain the farm. My grandfather taught my father, and my father taught me... It's a long history.”

Charles point to a small stone structure. “What is that?”

“Oh, that’s our old well. My great-grandfather used to draw water from it... It’s still working but we use a pump now.”

“That sounds amazing! Could I see it closer?” he says, somewhat intrigued.

You nod and you lead him to the well, explaining its history and the stories associated with it. He listens intently, asking insightful questions, remembering details.

“This farm is more than just a place, it’s in my blood, it's who I am. The land speaks to me, so to say... Every stone, every tree, every animal, it’s a living history.” you say thoughtful.

He nods. “I can feel it, there's a tranquility here, a peace... It's a world away from the noise and pressure of Formula 1.” you giggled.

You both walk towards the sheep pen. Charles watches you interact with the sheep, his gaze is soft and admiring.

“You have such a special gift, y/n. A connection with nature... A lot of people just don’t have that.” he says in a soft whisper.

You blush lightly, looking away. “It’s just…” you murmured quite embarrassed. “It's just normal for me, you know?” you say softly.

He cuts you gently. “No, no, it’s special... Truly, it's something so beautiful to witness.”

He stays for a long time, helping you feed the animals, asking questions about the various breeds, the farming techniques, the challenges of maintaining the land, and the history of your family. He shows a genuine interest, far beyond simple politeness.

Charles smiles as he watches the sunset. “The light is so beautiful here, I've never seen a sunset quite like this.”

You both stand in silence for a few moments, admiring the view.

He turns towards you, a wistful look in his eyes. “I could stay here forever.” he says softly, he gently touches your arm, a hesitant touch that speaks volumes, but you don't pull away.

“Me too.” you say softly.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of the countryside filling his lungs. “Thank you for sharing this with me, y/n. It's… more than I could have ever imagined.”

You smile warmly at him. “Anytime you want, Charles.”

He stays until the last sliver of sun disappears below the horizon, he's completely enchanted by your world, your family's history, and you.

“I should go back to the city. But... I'll see you again, right?”

You smile again. “Of course.”

He leaves the farm, but it feels different. It's not just a goodbye; it's a promise of something more.

***

A couple of months later, you're tending your vegetable garden, your four kittens playfully weaving between your legs. The sun is warm, the air fragrant with the scent of ripe tomatoes and basil. It's been like two months since the visit of the Ferrari drivers to the farm, in particular, since Charles' interest in you and your family.

You chuckled, as a kitten bats at a juicy-looking tomato. “Oh be careful, you little bandit! Those are for dinner!” you giggled at their antics.

You're humming a gentle tune, your movements fluid and practiced as you weed between the rows of lettuce. Suddenly, the familiar hum of a powerful engine breaks the quiet. You look up to see a sleek, dark car approaching the farm, your heart quickens as you recognize the car...

A moment later, Charles emerges, looking relaxed and happy. He's dressed casually—jeans, and a simple white shirt—but his smile is as bright as ever. The little kittens, sensing a new presence, start to cautiously approach, their tails held high.

“Charles! What a surprise! What brings you here?” you say slightly surprised.

He grins. “Hi y/n! I thought I'd surprise you, I had a few days off, and… well, I couldn't resist coming to see you, and the farm... And the little kittens, of course!” he giggles.

He kneels down, gently stroking one of the kittens, the kitten purrs contentedly. Charles spends a considerable amount of time helping you in the garden, his presence as comfortable and natural as if he'd been a regular visitor for years.

“This one's a tough customer, huh?” he says while carefully pulling a weed.

“These weeds are tenacious! We've been battling them for weeks!” you say while sighing.

You and Charles work side-by-side, chatting easily about the garden, the animals, and the challenges of farming. He asks about the different plants, showing a genuine curiosity and understanding of the intricacies of gardening. His questions are detailed and insightful, not just polite inquiries.

“I'm still amazed at the amount of precision and planning this requires. It’s like a strategic race—nurturing the land and your plants to be perfectly timed!” he says amazed.

You share a laugh, recognizing the parallel between his world of precision racing and the meticulous care needed for a thriving garden.

As the afternoon wears on, the sun begins to dip lower in the sky. The light softens, turning the garden into a picture-perfect scene. You gather the harvest, Charles assisting with a natural grace and skill. He’s become comfortable with this simple work, a welcome change from the pressure of his racing career.

“Look at this! A true champion of the garden!” he says while holding up a particularly plump tomato. “What a beauty!” he smiled so widely.

You both laugh, sharing a moment of easy camaraderie and understanding. At one point, while you were tending to the little goats, you can see how he walks towards you and brought you flowers, a simple bouquet of wildflowers gathered from a nearby field, a sweet and thoughtful gesture that speaks volumes, your cheeks blush a bit too much.

Later that afternoon, your father returns from the fields. He sees Charles sitting with you on the porch, chatting amiably and sees the little bouquet of wildflowers on your lap. He stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slightly agape. His usual jovial expression is replaced by a mixture of surprise and, you suspect, slight apprehension.

“Charles? Ma che…? (But what…?) What in the world are you doing here?” your father says in a slightly incredulous tone.

Charles stands up, he smiles brightly. “Oh, buongiorno, Signor! I hope I'm not intruding, I'm just spending some time helping y/n in the garden.”

Your father is visibly taken aback, he wasn't expecting to see the famous Formula 1 driver, a global superstar, on your humble family farm, again. He stares at Charles for a long moment, a mixture of disbelief and suspicion clear on his face.

“I… I mean, it's certainly… unexpected.” he gestures vaguely towards the garden. “You're… helping with the vegetables?”

Charles smiles. “Yes, I am! It's fascinating work, i've learned so much from y/n. I know it's a different kind of challenge, but equally rewarding. It requires a different kind of precision and, well, I’m surprisingly good at weeding.” he giggled softly.

Your father looks from you to Charles, his expression slowly softening. He's observing your easy interaction, noting the genuine connection and mutual respect between you two. He's seeing a side of you daughter he hasn't seen before—a confident, independent woman who's clearly capturing the attention of someone far above her social standing.

“Well... It’s... good to see you.” he says a little less stiff. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner? My wife made her special lasagna.”

Charles readily accepts the invitation, his smile widening. Your father, still somewhat flustered but visibly thawing, gestures towards the farmhouse. As the three of you head towards the house, your father glances back at the garden. He sees you and Charles talking, your laughter echoing softly in the evening air. A look of understanding, perhaps even pride, appears on his face, he accepts that this seemingly unlikely connection may be stronger than he initially thought.

The farmhouse is warm and inviting, filled with the delicious aroma of your mother's lasagna. Charles is seated at the table, chatting animatedly with your father, who’s surprisingly relaxed and friendly. Your mother is bustling about, her face beaming with pride and hospitality.

“…and then, the tractor broke down just as we were harvesting the wheat! It took three hours to fix it!” your father gestures with a flourish and Charles laughed soundly.

“That sounds like a real challenge! A very different kind of race against time!”

Your mother places a steaming dish of lasagna in front of Charles, a generous portion. He compliments her cooking in Italian, his words sincere and heartfelt, your mother beams, clearly pleased.

“Thank you, Charles. I’m so glad you could join us for dinner. We rarely have guests, especially guests as… distinguished as you.”

You and Charles exchange a knowing smile, the atmosphere is warm and convivial. The initial surprise and apprehension have given way to a comfortable, relaxed feeling. The conversations flows easily between you, your parents, and Charles. He displays a genuine interest in your family’s history, asking questions about the farm's evolution, the challenges faced over generations, and the traditions that have been passed down.

“I’ve never been on a farm before, I’ve always been in big cities. But this… this is incredible! The sense of history, the connection to the land… it's truly remarkable.” he says while he drinks a little bit of wine.

Your father, proud and slightly boastful, launches into a detailed account of the farm’s history, tracing its lineage back centuries. He speaks passionately, sharing stories of his ancestors, their struggles and triumphs, the changes they've witnessed in the land and in the world.

“…and my grandfather, he always said the land tells its own stories. You just have to listen carefully.” you father said.

Charles nodded. “I can see that, It's like reading a book, but the chapters are written in the seasons, the growth of the plants, the changing landscape.”

The conversation shifts to the current challenges facing the farm – climate change, fluctuating market prices, the difficulty of attracting younger generations to farming. Charles listens attentively, offering thoughtful insights and questions, demonstrating his intelligence and empathy goes beyond the racetrack.

“It’s remarkable how many parallels there are between farming and Formula 1. Both require meticulous planning, adaptability to changing circumstances, and an understanding of the systems involved. And both, ultimately, depend on teamwork.”

Your mother adds to the conversation, sharing stories of her own childhood on the farm and the challenges of balancing family life with the demands of farm work. Charles listens with genuine interest, showing his respect for her resilience and the traditional values she represents.

The meal extends into a long, leisurely affair, the initial tension between Charles, a global superstar, and your family, rooted in their simple, traditional life, gradually dissipates, Charles effortlessly integrates into the family dynamic, engaging in lighthearted banter with your father and sharing stories from his life that reveal a depth and vulnerability rarely seen in public. He speaks of his close-knit family, his childhood in Monaco, and the demanding but rewarding world of Formula 1, offering candid reflections on his career.

You find yourself observing Charles with renewed appreciation, his genuine interest in your family and their lives goes far beyond simple politeness. You see a different side of him here, away from the pressure and scrutiny of the public eye, a side that is warm, humble, and deeply thoughtful. He listens intently when your mother speaks, his eyes reflecting sincere interest.

As the evening draws to a close, a sense of warmth and connection pervades the room. The meal has transcended its function; it's become a sharing of lives, a bridging of worlds. You and your family are captivated by Charles, not just by his fame, but by his humility, intelligence, and genuine kindness.

***

Several months have passed, and Charles' visits to the farm after race weeks have become a regular part of your life, his presence is as familiar and comforting as the scent of hay and blooming wildflowers. Today, however, your family has gone to the local market, leaving you, Charles, and the menagerie of farm animals – including the four playful kittens and a fluffy family of bunnies – entirely alone.

You and Charles are working in the barn, a symphony of gentle sounds filling the air: the soft bleating of sheep, the contented mooing of cows, the chirping of crickets, and the playful mewing of the kittens as they chase a particularly plump bunny.

Charles is expertly tending to a newborn lamb, his touch gentle and assured. You are cleaning the goat pens, your movements fluid and practiced. The atmosphere is calm, intimate, and filled with a comfortable silence that speaks volumes about the connection that has grown between you.

As you finish your work, you notice Charles watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips, he sets down the lamb, carefully tucking it back with its mother. He walks towards you, his gaze warm and tender.

“You're amazing with these animals, you have a gift.” he says softly.

You smile. “You always say that, but yeah, they’re pretty easy to work with. They respond to kindness and patience, just like people.”

He steps closer, his hand gently brushing yours, the touch sparks a warmth that spreads through you, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that have blossomed between you. The playful energy of earlier months has given way to a deeper, more intimate connection. The playful sounds of the animals seem to fade into the background, replaced by a palpable tension that hums in the air.

“I love being here with you. With all of this scenery… It feels… so right.” he says with a soft voice, his eyes filled with a tenderness you've come to cherish.

He gently takes your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. His gaze is intense, filled with a longing that mirrors your own. The barn, usually a space of bustling activity, is still and quiet, your connection the only thing that matters.

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow, tender, and deeply felt... It's a kiss that is as soft and gentle as the caress of a summer breeze, a kiss that speaks volumes about the trust, intimacy, and affection that has grown between you over the months. The animals seem to sense the intimacy of the moment, their movements softening, their sounds mellowing.

The kiss deepens, a culmination of shared moments, quiet conversations, and a growing bond that has blossomed amidst the simple beauty of farm life. It is a kiss that is as natural and unhurried as the rising and setting of the sun.

After the kiss, you and Charles continue to work together, your movements effortless and harmonious. You share quiet moments of laughter and conversation, interspersed with periods of peaceful silence. The animals seem to sense your happiness, their presence adding to the idyllic atmosphere.

As the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the barn, you and Charles find yourselves sharing a quiet meal—rustic bread, cheese, and fresh fruit—in the hayloft. The setting sun paints the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the intimate moment.

The meal ends, and a comfortable silence settles between you. The scent of hay, earth, the gentle breeze and the soft sounds of the sleeping animals lull them into a state of quiet contentment. Exhausted but content, you two fall asleep nestled together amidst the soft hay, your bodies close, your breathing synchronized. Your shared connection is palpable, a quiet harmony that transcends words.

The next morning, your parents enter the barn to complete their early morning chores. They stumble upon you and Charles, fast asleep in the hayloft, your bodies intertwined in a gentle embrace. The scene is idyllic, innocent, and undeniably romantic. Your parents share a knowing smile, a mixture of surprise and quiet happiness in their eyes. They carefully tiptoe out, leaving you undisturbed, understanding the unspoken language of love and happiness.

You stir, feeling the warmth of Charles's arm around you. The scent of hay and earth is comforting, a familiar fragrance that speaks of peaceful mornings on the farm. You open your eyes slowly, your gaze falling upon Charles's sleeping face.

He looks peaceful, his features softened by sleep, the usual intensity in his eyes replaced by a gentle calmness. A faint smile plays on his lips. You gently brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your touch light and tender. The simple gesture speaks volumes about the intimacy that has quietly blossomed between you.

You study his face, your heart swelling with a quiet affection. The shared laughter, quiet conversations, and unspoken understanding of the past months have led to this intimate moment, a testament to the bond that has grown between you. The world outside the barn fades away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Charles stirs, his eyelids fluttering open. He gazes at you, his eyes slowly focusing, recognition dawning in their depths. A gentle smile spreads across his face, a silent acknowledgment of the tenderness of the moment.

“Morning.” he says with his voice husky with sleep.

You smile softly at him. “Morning.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the awakening farm—the gentle bleating of sheep, the contented mooing of cows, and the chirping of crickets. These familiar sounds create a tranquil backdrop to your intimate moment.

Charles gently pulls you closer, his arm encircling you. You snuggle against him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. The hayloft, usually a space of hard work and practicality, has become a sanctuary, a private haven where your connection can flourish without pressure or expectation.

You spend several moments in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence. The simplicity of the moment is profoundly moving, a testament to the deep bond that has grown between you. You feel utterly content, safe, and loved.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice low and intimate. “You know? I didn't want to wake up.”

You laugh softly. “Me neither.”

He gently strokes your hair, his touch lingering on your cheek. The gesture is simple, yet speaks volumes about the affection and tenderness he feels for you. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, a shared understanding that transcends words.

Charles continues, his voice laced with a vulnerability you've rarely seen in him. “This… this is something special. Being here, with you, away from… everything else.”

You nodded. “I know. It’s… different here. It’s just us, the animals, the farm. No pressure, no expectations… just peace.”

He kisses your forehead gently, his touch lingering. His eyes reflect a deep love and affection that is both reassuring and profoundly moving.

As the sun rises higher, casting a warm glow through the barn, you and Charles begin to move, your movements tentative yet intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you share. You help each other out of the hayloft, your laughter echoing softly in the quiet barn.

As you descend from the hayloft, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of the barn, the sun now fully illuminates the space, showcasing the dust motes dancing in the golden light beams. The familiar scents of hay and earth create a comforting atmosphere that embodies the simplicity and tranquility of farm life. The sounds of the farm, once merely a background hum, are now more distinct—the gentle bleating of lambs, the quiet mooing of cows, and the occasional chirping of birds—all harmonizing in a symphony of nature's gentle rhythm.

You and Charles walk hand-in-hand towards the farmhouse, the morning light illuminating the path. The familiar surroundings create a sense of peace and belonging, the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps on the dirt path and the comfortable silence between you create a tranquil and intimate atmosphere.

As you enter the farmhouse, you are enveloped in a wave of warmth and familiar scents. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baking bread fills the air, creating a welcoming and comforting atmosphere. Your mother is humming softly, busily preparing breakfast in the kitchen. The sight of her warm smile and the inviting atmosphere instantly dispel any lingering awkwardness from the previous night’s events.

“Good morning, you two sleepyheads! I was wondering when you’d finally appear! Breakfast is almost ready.” you mother says kindly.

Your mother’s welcoming smile puts you at ease, her warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace. There’s no judgment, only a quiet understanding in her eyes. This unspoken acceptance reinforces the sense of belonging and peace that permeates the atmosphere of your family home.

You and Charles join your mother in the kitchen, engaging in lighthearted conversation. The breakfast is simple but delicious—freshly baked bread, homemade jam, strong coffee, and a bowl of fresh fruit. The conversation is easy, flowing naturally from farm gossip to Charles's racing career, to your dreams and plans for the future, the atmosphere is relaxed, intimate, and filled with love.

Charles engages with your mother, effortlessly sharing anecdotes from his life while listening intently to her stories of farm life. His genuine interest and respectful demeanor are endearing, further solidifying his place within your family's circle.

As you eat breakfast, the conversation turns to more intimate topics, exploring your hopes and dreams for the future, your shared desire to build a life together. Charles' candidness and vulnerability showcase a depth of feeling that surpasses his usually reserved public persona.

***

A couple of days after that, you and Charles are together, feeding the farm animals, working together, gently handing hay to a group of sheep. You're laughing softly, a comfortable silence between you punctuated by the sounds of bleating sheep and clucking chickens. As the days and months have passed, you have seen how Charles has become accustomed to farm work, which is a huge difference from racing,

He smiles as he chases the chickens that come towards you. “They seem to like you! They’re usually a bit more… skittish.”

You blushed. “Oh, I think it’s just that I’m gentle. You know, my parents always taught me to be kind to animals.”

He watches you as you interact with the animals, a tender look in his eyes. “I love that about you, so kind, sweet and gentle.” he whispered, he paused a bit, then speaks, his voice slightly hesitant. “I was thinking… about something... Something important.”

You look at him, a little surprised. You’ve been having a wonderful time at the farm with him, but this shift in tone has you slightly apprehensive.

“Oh, what is it?” you say slightly nervous.

He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, my family… they’re very important to me. My mum, Pascale, and my brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur... They mean the world to me.” he says softly.

You nod, understanding dawning on you. “Yes, I know. You've told me about them, they sound wonderful.”

He nodded back. ”They are... And... I want you to meet them.” he whispered.

You pause, your heart fluttering. The thought of meeting his family is both exciting and terrifying, a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

“Oh… wow. That’s…” you pause, searching for the right words, slightly overwhelmed. “That's quite a big step, isn’t it?”

He takes your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It is, I know it is, but I really want you to. I… I really like you, y/n. A lot, more than a lot if I'm honest.”

You blush deeply, looking down at your hands which are now clasped with his. “I like you too, Charles. A lot! But… I’m so shy, I’m worried I’ll make a fool of myself.” you whispered.

He smiles, his expression filled with warmth and affection. “You won’t, my little bird. They’ll love you, I know, I’ve told them all about you, of course... I mean, who wouldn't want to meet the amazing girl who can handle sheep better than I can?” he laughed.

You giggle, feeling your nerves ease slightly under his reassuring words. “That’s sweet of you to say. But still... it's a lot.”

He kisses your hand lightly. “I know, but it’s important to me. They’re a big part of my life, and... I want you to be, too.”

Later that evening, after dinner at the farmhouse, Charles approaches your father in the garden. He looks very nervous, even has shaking hands.

“Buonasera, signor. It’s… it's lovely to see you.” he says softly. (good night sir)

Your father smiles warmly. “Oh Charles, good to see you too. Cosa ti viene offerto, figliolo?” he says. (what can I do for you, son?)

“Thank you, sir. Ehm... Actually… that’s why I’m here, there’s… something I wanted to ask you.” Charles said softly, while fidgets with his hands, his nervousness evident. “It's about y/n and I…” he sighed. “You know that we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now. And… things are going very well between us, and I… I really care for her. More than words can say.”

Your father listens attentively, a thoughtful expression on his face. He’s a wise man who sees his daughter’s happiness is important.

Your father nods slowly. “Oh yes! I’ve noticed that, she seems so happy and carefree when you're around her.” he says.

Charles smiled and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “And well... I was wondering… if you would…” he scratches the back of his neck. “If you would give me permission to… to take her out on a date? A proper one! You know... To officially ask her out... And maybe get your blessing first?” he finally finished saying.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, as your father contemplates Charles's proposal.

Your father chuckled softly. “That's a very old-fashioned approach, Charles, but charming all the same. I appreciate that.”

He looks down, slightly embarrassed but relieved he’s managed to say what needed saying.

Your father looks at Charles kindly. “You know, y/n is a special girl. She deserves someone good, and from what I've seen, you're a good kid, Charles. You seem genuine, and she seems happy and bubbly with you. So… yes, you have my blessing. Just don't break her heart, okay?” your father finally says.

Charles visibly relaxes, a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He beams with relief and happiness.

“Oh grazie, signor! Thank you so much. I won't disappoint you. I promise.” he says smiling. (thank you, sir)

Your father smiles, satisfied with Charles’ sincerity and his daughter's happiness. “I appreciate your respect, Charles. Just be kind to my little girl.”

“I promise you sir.”

Charles walks away with a lightness in his step, he has successfully navigated a significant hurdle, a blend of tradition and modern romance. His feelings for you are genuine and deep, and now he can openly share them with your family and move to the next chapter.

The farmhouse door clicked shut behind him, the sound muffled by the thick stone walls. The scent of sun-baked earth and woodsmoke hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort... But tonight, the usual quiet of the farmhouse felt different; charged with a quiet anticipation that hummed beneath the surface. He’d done it, he'd asked your father, and the answer had been a resounding yes, laced with a paternal warmth that had eased his nerves and filled his heart.

He found you in your bedroom – your shared bedroom, a space that now felt intrinsically yours and his, a shared sanctuary. You were sprawled on the floor amidst a whirlwind of fur and tiny paws. Your four kittens, a fluffy, wriggling mass of playful energy, tumbled around you, batting at your hands, their miniature claws playfully raking your skin.

You were laughing, a light, melodic sound that resonated through the room, a pure, unfiltered joy that lifted his spirits. Your hair was slightly disheveled, escaping the loose braid you'd worn earlier. Your cheeks were flushed with a healthy pink, and your eyes shone with an infectious happiness that mirrored his own. The sight stole his breath away; it was a scene of pure domestic bliss, a picture of contentment he hadn’t even dared to dream of just months before.

He watched you for a long moment, mesmerized. He’d seen you in countless glamorous settings, especially when you want to look a little more put together, but this... this raw, unfiltered joy, this intimate moment, was far more captivating than any red carpet event. The casual way you were dressed – in one of his oversized t-shirts – added to your charm. You looked incredibly beautiful, even more beautiful than he'd ever imagined.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the spell. You looked up, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. A moment of pure, shared intimacy hung in the air before a slow, warm smile spread across your face, erasing any trace of surprise.

“Hey darling.” he said, his voice slightly hoarse with the residue of his earlier anxiety.

You looked up and smiled at him. “Hi.” you replied, your voice soft and a little breathless. One of the kittens, bolder than the others, launched itself onto your lap, settling contentedly amidst the chaos.

“They seem to have adopted you.” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the tiny creature knead its paws into your shirt.

“They're incredibly cuddly.” you responded, your laughter echoing through the room, you gently stroked the kitten, its tiny purr rumbling against your hand.

He joined you on the floor, careful not to disturb the furry tornado. One of the kittens, emboldened by his presence, attempted to climb onto his lap. He chuckled, allowing the tiny creature to settle comfortably, its weight incredibly light yet strangely comforting.

The next hour passed in a blur of shared laughter and playful chaos. You told him stories about each kitten – their unique personalities, their mischievous habits. He listened intently, captivated not just by the anecdotes but by the way your eyes shone with affection as you spoke about them, their names and quirks rolling off your tongue like a familiar lullaby. It was a moment of pure connection, of sharing a simple joy that transcended words.

He found himself picking up a kitten, its tiny body surprisingly warm in his hands. He felt a peculiar sense of calm wash over him; a sensation he hadn't felt before. The kitten purred contentedly against his chest, its soft fur brushing against his skin.

“They’re… surprisingly comforting.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yup, they are.” you agreed, your voice soft and tender. “They’re little bundles of pure joy.” You reached out and gently stroked his cheek, the gesture felt intimate, sealing the moment with a warmth that resonated deeply within him.

The kittens continued their playful antics, their energy seemingly boundless. But amidst the chaos, a quiet intimacy had settled between you two, a profound connection that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. The playful fur, the soft purrs, the shared laughter – they formed a soundtrack to the quiet contentment that filled the room.

He looked at you and cleared his throat. “Oh, peachy... I spoke to your father.” he said timidly.

“Oh, really? About what? If I may know...” you said softly.

He blushed. “Well, um... I asked him for his permission, let's say... To, you know, take you on a date.” he said softly with a big smile. “A proper date, in the city...” he whispered.

You were speechless, you didn't expect him to say that. “Charles, wow... That sounds amazing!” you giggled. “And you asked my father for permission, quite a gentleman.” you smiled.

He smiled and chuckled. “Hey, I had to ask for his blessing, he's going to annihilate me if anything happens to his little princess.” he said and you blushed so hard. “So... What do you think?”

“Well... I think it's a great idea!” you said and you give him a little peck on the lips.

“So, it's sealed! We'll have a date!” he gives you a little peck on your lips and you giggled.

The success of his conversation with your father was undoubtedly a victory, but this... this intimate moment of shared joy, the simple pleasure of playing with kittens on the floor, was the perfect epilogue. It was the beginning of your own shared sanctuary, a haven of love and laughter on the edge of the farm and the enjoyment of country life. He knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful life together, a journey filled with unexpected joys and profound connections, a life that already felt perfectly, wonderfully complete.

#f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #charles x you #farm girl #farm girl!reader #charles x shy reader #charles x farmgirl!reader #charles leclerc x farm girl reader #mariclerc fics

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f1daydreamer · 21 days ago

Text

Little Steps to Forever

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of animal abuse, fluff, comfort

Summary: Charles and you find a stray dog who’s been through too much. With love, patience, and Leo’s help, you give him a new life filled with warmth and safety.

---

It was supposed to be a simple evening walk with Leo through the quiet streets of Monaco. The little dog happily trotted along, sniffing every lamppost and bush, his tail wagging in the crisp night air. You held the leash loosely, chatting with Charles, who was animatedly recounting something about his last race.

And then you heard it—a faint whimper coming from the shadows of an alley.

“Did you hear that?” you asked, stopping mid-step.

Charles nodded, already scanning the dimly lit area. Leo tilted his head, ears perking up at the sound.

You both followed the soft cries, your heart clenching at the sight before you. A small, trembling dog huddled against a dumpster, his thin frame barely holding him up. His fur was matted, patches missing, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Oh, mon cœur,” Charles whispered, crouching down slowly.

You gently tugged Leo’s leash, keeping him at a distance to avoid overwhelming the terrified animal. Charles extended a hand, but the dog flinched and let out a weak growl.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Charles cooed, his voice soft and soothing. “We won’t hurt you.”

You crouched beside him, your voice equally tender. “He’s so scared, Charles. What do we do?”

“We can’t leave him here,” he said, determination flashing in his green eyes.

---

It took nearly an hour of patient coaxing, a few pieces of Charles’ leftover croissant, and Leo’s calm presence for the dog to inch closer. When he finally let Charles touch him, your heart swelled with a mixture of relief and sadness.

“He’s coming home with us,” Charles said firmly, wrapping the trembling dog in his jacket.

You didn’t argue.

---

The first few days were tough. The dog—who you decided to name Buddy after Charles joked he needed a “buddy system” to feel safe—wouldn’t eat if either of you were in the room. He flinched at sudden movements and cowered in corners when voices got too loud.

But slowly, little by little, Buddy began to trust.

Charles was endlessly patient, spending hours sitting quietly on the floor, letting Buddy approach on his own terms. You cried the first time Buddy nudged Charles’ hand, seeking comfort.

Leo, ever the gentle one, became Buddy’s anchor. The two dogs were inseparable, with Leo often lying beside Buddy during naps or bringing him toys as if to say, “It’s okay here.”

---

One night, you found Charles in the living room, stretched out on the rug with both dogs. Buddy’s head rested on his chest while Leo snored softly at his side.

“You’re a natural,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, your heart full.

Charles grinned up at you, his hand running through Buddy’s now soft fur. “I just want him to feel safe, amour. He deserves that.”

You joined them, curling up next to Charles. Buddy’s tail wagged slightly—a small victory that brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re safe now, Buddy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “We promise.”

Charles squeezed your hand. “And we never break our promises.”

---

Months later, Buddy was a completely different dog. His fur shone, his eyes sparkled, and his tail wagged freely. He and Leo were the best of friends, often seen chasing each other around the garden or curling up together on the couch.

And every time you looked at Buddy, now brimming with life and love, you knew you had made the best decision.

“Ready for our walk?” Charles asked one evening, clipping the leashes onto Leo and Buddy.

You smiled, watching as Buddy happily barked, his tail wagging excitedly. “Let’s go.”

As you strolled through the streets, Buddy trotted confidently beside Leo, no longer the scared, broken dog you had found that night. He was home.

And he always would be.

---

A/N

This story holds a special place in my heart because it was inspired by my own dog, Buddy. When I found Buddy, he was scared, broken, and unsure if he could trust anyone. I’ll never forget the first time he wagged his tail or rested his head on my lap—it was such a small gesture, but it meant the world to me.

Buddy taught me that love, patience, and a safe home can heal even the deepest wounds. Writing this was my way of honoring his journey and sharing the hope that every animal, no matter their past, deserves a second chance.

If you feel moved by this story, I encourage you to consider adopting or supporting your local animal shelters. There’s nothing more rewarding than giving an animal a fresh start and a place to call home.

With love,

Buddy & Me 🐾❤

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rosyblooom · 10 months ago

Text

chicken shop date | cl16 smau

pairing: charles leclerc x fem youtuber!reader

summary: y/n hosts a popular youtube channel where she invites various celebrities to have a 'chicken shop date'. in this upcoming episode, she welcomes famous formula 1 driver, charles leclerc.

a/n: all my love to amelia, i love her vids🫶🫶 also, pls lmk what u think :)

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading! thank uu!! :)

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▯

21st of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: red 4 🏎️🏎️🏎️ ]

[ caption: chicken shop date out on saturday!!! xx ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: aussie aussie aussie 🦘 ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 137,923 others

yourusername i love you australia xx

view all 4,831 comments

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charles_leclerc ❤️

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(liked by author)

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22nd of March, 2024

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username, and 8,239 others

f1gossipofficial After arriving in Australia last night and posting a picture hugging who fans believe to be Charles Leclerc, Y/N L/N made her F1 debut this morning during the practice sessions.

She and Charles appeared to be very close, only further fuelling the dating rumours that have been circulating the internet for the past month. As of yet, however, neither of the pair has confirmed nor denied the ongoing rumours.

view all 273 comments

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23rd of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: this is more like it 😌 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Lucky charm secured ❤️ ]

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbfusername, landonorris and 277,004 others

yourusername chicken shop date with @charles_leclerc OUT NOW!! hope it's an uncomfortable watch xx

view all 4,992 comments

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2:35 ───ㅇ───────── 7:55

The YouTube video begins with a series of clips showing Y/N and Charles laughing, with intermittent shots of Y/N looking directly at the screen. The familiar tune of Y/N's 'chicken shop date' videos begins as stop-motion hearts flutter across the screen, transitioning smoothly to a scene featuring two dolls seated in a miniature chicken shop date setting, seamlessly leading into the main content of the video.

"Charles Leclerc," Y/N warmly greets, resting her elbows on the table. "Welcome to our date."

Charles responds with a smile, settling back in his seat and gesturing around. "Y/N Y/LN, thank you. I'm very happy to be on our first date... here... with all these cameras," he remarks jokingly.

Y/N narrows her eyes slightly, briefly glancing around before refocusing on Charles with a hum. "I'm not sure what you're implying. This location is a solid 10 out of 10," she says, gesturing to their surroundings. "Besides, do you see the chicken?" she adds, plucking a single fry from her meal box and waving it in the air, awaiting his response.

"You mean the fry?" Charles chuckles, pointing. "That's not chicken."

Y/N takes a bite of the fry, pausing to swallow before clearing her throat. "I'm aware," she says with a dramatic tilt of her head and a tight-lipped smile. "I just grabbed it because I fancied a fry."

"But anyway," she continues, circling back to the initial question, "do... you... see... the... chicken?" Sensing his hesitation, she places her hands firmly on the table. "Look at me. It's a simple yes or no, Charles."

"Well, actually, it's yes or yes," she corrects herself with two affirmative nods, before redirecting her attention back to him.

Charles responds with a smile, though his expression betrays his confusion, evident in the different angles of his raised eyebrows. "Yes, I see it, Y/N."

"And do you taste it?" Y/N asks slowly.

"I haven't yet..."

"So, what are you waiting for?" she claps her hands together, motioning towards the untouched box of food in front of him. "Don't be shy now."

Charles chuckles as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, rummaging through the food before pulling out a chicken nugget. As he dips the piece in some ketchup, his eyes meet Y/N's once more, her wide-eyed nod urging him on.

"Go on."

"Okay, okay," he says, taking a bite. "Mmm," he nods, almost as if someone were holding a gun to his head, compelling him to do so.

"Oh," Y/N purses her lips and shakes her head, "I don't like it when people make noises while eating."

"Uh," Charles swallows and chuckles, "sorry?"

Y/N shrugs. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Anyway," she inhales deeply, "what do you think? That's some good chicken, right?"

"Yeah, actually, it is really good," Charles nods as he speaks.

Suddenly, the video cuts to a staff member in chicken shop attire standing behind the counter, wearing a smile while staring at the camera, unmoving.

Then, the video returns to Charles and Y/N.

As Charles takes another bite of his chicken nugget, Y/N casually asks, "Do you think our children will like chicken?"

Coughing sounds interrupt as Charles drops his chicken into the box, knocking his fist against his chest until the sound clears. His voice croaks as he speaks, his brows furrowing, "Our children? We're talking about children already?"

Y/N's composure cracks slightly as she chuckles, clearly amused by his reaction, and observes him reaching for a glass of water, taking large gulps. However, she quickly regains control, shrugging nonchalantly before continuing, "Well, yeah. I don't know about you, but I date for marriage—I want a little family of my own someday. Don't you?"

Charles rubs his eyebrows and places the glass back on the table. "Yes, I do want to have a family one day. But this feels like it's moving very fast, don't you think?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Not at all. To be honest, I want one boy and one girl. What about you?"

At Y/N's continued forwardness, Charles releases a laugh, visibly bewildered, before scratching at his beard in deep thought. Propping up his elbows on the table, he finally responds, "I think I want a boy."

"—And a girl," Y/N interjects, smiling expectantly.

Charles blurts out a laugh, clearly taken aback, before nodding. "Yeah, a girl too. I don't really mind."

"Great, so we're on the same page then."

The video cuts off again, this time to the entrance of the chicken shop, slowly panning into the empty and bright interior with multiple tables and chairs. The camera stops on the large menu, featuring pictures of chicken and fries, lingering for a few moments before cutting back to Charles and Y/N.

However, this time Y/N is holding a piece of paper in front of her.

"So, I hear you're French?" Y/N glances up at Charles, noticing the grimace on his face. Quickly realising her mistake, she corrects herself, "Oh, hold on, no wait, don't kill me please. You speak French, but you're from Monaco—you don't claim France at all."

Charles laughs and nods in agreement. "Correct. I am Monegasque. Those are separate countries, yes."

Y/N purses her lips, her eyes flickering from side to side. "I know, I literally just said that." Clicking her tongue, she exhales a long breath and continues, "Anyway, what a coincidence. I'm actually trying to learn French."

Something flashes in Charles' eyes as he suddenly leans forward in his chair, his expression filled with keen interest. "Oh wow, tu l'es ? Comment vas-tu ?" (translation: "Oh wow, you are? How are you?")

Y/N freezes, her mouth parted slightly in a half-smile. For a moment, she just stares, clearly startled, before scratching the back of her neck and humming deep in thought. "Oh, okay, straight into the deep end, huh?" she chuckles and then blurts out, "Oui, oui?"

Charles tosses his head back, laughing, while Y/N folds her hands together, waiting expressionless for his laughter to subside. When he finally regains his composure, his eyes back on Y/N, she says, "Great, thanks."

"I'm sorry," Charles waves his hand in the air, "I just thought you'd know the basics already. My mistake."

Y/N narrows her gaze at him for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Well, that's what I've got you here for." Clearing her throat, she tilts her gaze down at the paper and asks, "Let's start easy, shall we? I'm going to give you a few sentences in French, and you translate them back to me in English."

Charles furrows his brows. "Wouldn't it make more sense the other way around?"

"What can I say, I'm special," she shrugs, "I actually learn better this way."

"Ah, of course you are."

"Alright. Je t'aime."

"I love you," says Charles.

Y/N places her hand across her chest. "Aw, Charles. Dropping the L-bomb already, are we?"

Charles drags his teeth across his lower lip while shaking his head. "Next one, please."

“Veux-tu m'épouser?" (translation: "Will you marry me?")

Charles tilts his head sideways, an amused expression spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

Y/N clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “No, that doesn’t quite sound right. I think you might need to brush up on your French, Charles, because I’m pretty sure ‘Veux-tu m'épouser’ does not mean ‘seriously.’”

Exhaling a long breath, she rotates in her seat and straightens up. “Don’t worry though, I’ll give you another chance.”

Charles rolls his eyes playfully before releasing a whistle. Rubbing his hands together, he begins, “Will you marry me. That’s what it mea—”

“Charles!” Y/N's jaw drops as she interrupts him. “Well, I’m a hot commodity, you know? But I want to know, how would our marriage work? I mean, how long are you planning on racing, anyway?”

Charles smiles, slumping into his seat as he reaches for a fry and tosses it into his mouth. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I love racing and I want to be a world champion, so we’ll just have to see how long that takes.”

“You want to be a world champion, yet you extended your contract with Ferrari?” Y/N's brows furrow inquisitively. “That’s an interesting choice.”

A couple of chuckles escape Charles as he runs his hand up and down his neck, his gaze fixed on the half-empty box of food before him. After a moment's pause, he replies with a casual shrug, “They're like family to me. And honestly, when I see myself winning, it’s always with the Ferrari team by my side.”

“Fair enough,” Y/N exhales, her eyes widening as she claps her hands together. “I suppose I'll have to stock up on red outfits.”

Noticing Charles’ puzzled expression, Y/N theatrically rolls her eyes before explaining, “For our next date, silly. I’ll be your lucky charm, and then you can finally start winning and have a real shot at the World Championship.”

“Wow, how nice of you, Y/N,” Charles responds with a lazy smile. “Merci.”

“Oooh,” Y/N points at him, nodding in satisfaction, “I know that one. You’re welcome…”

“…Boyfriend?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at him. “What—what are we?”

He ponders for a moment, swaying slightly from side to side, then relents, “Okay, sure… girlfriend.”

The video cuts to the outro, displaying various polaroids of Y/N flashing by, accompanied by a text reading, ‘If you enjoyed the video, please don’t forget to like and subscribe for more! xx’.

24th of March, 2024

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: early day😴😴 ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 4,723 others

f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc have been spotted entering the Paddock together. Numerous sources have also confirmed seeing them exchange a few kisses.

As always, wishing the drivers all the best for today's race!

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liked by yourusername, carlossaiz55, username and 324,076 others

f1 Carlando back on the podium together! Congrats to Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc on their wins! Huge accomplishments!

#F1 #Formula1 #AusGP

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yourusername

liked by yourbfusername, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 263,014 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

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7:35 ───────────ㅇ─ 7:55

hope u enjoyed! thoughts are appreciated! <3

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