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oh-saints · 2 years ago

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hi ! would you be down to do a fluffy and funny social media au or an oneshot for a ødegaard!reader dating charles leclerc in secret because they're scared of martin's reaction, but martin tries to set one of his teammates up with reader and charles gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship ?

matchmaker

charles leclerc x odegaard&model!reader (ft. martin odegaard the big bro)

word count: 1k

notes: as a pain relief from my angsty works...? teheee but i can totally imagine protectivebro!martin towards his sister irl tbh and i hope you like this bcs this is my 1st time doing something related to socmed au! but as usual, i wrote this at dawn so this is yet to be beta-read.

ig pics taken from aimeesong's instagram; others taken from pinterest and tumblr.

yn.odegaard ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 57,980 others

yn.odegaard only the best for your partner. @/tiffanyandco #tiffanypartner #ad

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odegaard.98 please get a real boyfriend

yourbff lucky bastard he is 👀

→ yn.odegaard girl don't spill anything here...

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“ah, the honorary son of our family is here!”

martin didn’t waste his chance as soon as emilie opened the door, only to reveal a particular monegasque racing driver standing before his youngest sister.

charles, being sweet as ever, hugged the giggling girl—it’d become odegaard family’s joke that emilie had been secretly harbouring a crush on the handsome lad—before giving her a small box of signature chocolate from whatever country charles had just arrived from due to the nature of his job. the playful jab martin threw at charles was ringing truer than ever before as the mother of the household walked out of the kitchen, leaving whatever dish she was making to engulf him in a bear hug, whispering silent grace to god that charles had survived another deadly week of racing without a scathe.

which she’d never done to any of her other children, by the way. not even when martin was bleeding from the scraps he’d gotten due to the gruesome nature of football, week in and out. in her defence, martin hadn’t been anywhere near death—not even life-threatening injury—whereas charles grazed the door of hell every time he was working, should his reflex fail him for a mere second difference on that asphalt.

you might be wondering how charles, a monegasque royalty at this point, was subtly adopted by the odegaards, a norwegian footballer family. it was a wonder that never ceased, too, to be honest.

except for you, who’d been the one who opened the gate to this crazy crossover.

you’d shot to stardom because of your social media activities, back when martin was still a madrid player. long story short, your follower count was what sealed your ticket to the catalunya grand prix as a guest for a famous spanish fashion brand, which resulted you being ushered to the ferrari paddock for the brand’s main ambassador, carlos sainz, who introduced you to his teammate, namely charles leclerc.

did it answer your question as to why charles could be found ever so often around the odegaard’s residence? probably not, and the odegaards felt the same way, too, in all honesty. one day, you brought him home for dinner and the boys had been so excited to have another boy at their close proximity to play football with that they even skipped the whole interrogation thing.

thus, them thinking charles was your best friend.

when in fact, he had been anything but.

it was actually within your purest intention to introduce charles as your boyfriend that night. partly because for the first time, you’d managed to snatch a fine specimen of a gentleman as your boyfriend instead of adding another male to your pile of boy/friend. but mostly because you and charles had every intention to be serious about your relationship—like marriage serious.

you had actually prepared both charles and yourself for a long investigating query from your brothers—in their name of being protective and all, and despite your exterior of despising them for that, you couldn’t help but love them all the same. but it seemed like those two older siblings of yours just thought charles was another boy/friend you met due to the nature of your job, or probably due to your extrovert trait.

did you ever bother to correct them?

lots of times, you wanted to break the label kristoff and martin was giving charles. but it was your boyfriend who held you back, grasping your hand in his in a gentle pressure under the table. when asked afterwards, he’d always answer with, “in due time, we will. for now, I’m focused on gaining their favours.”

so you stayed put. after all, you had been a firm believer that only a man knows other men best.

but it seemed like it’d change after tonight.

“you really should look for a boyfriend,” martin slipped in the thoughts he’d already put on her instagram’s comment section in the midst of the table going around her newest campaign. “you’re glowing when you have a partner.”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “what do you know from a picture?”

“we’re saying that you look so good in your last campaign, probably because you found a perfect partner for the shoot. now imagine if you have a real boyfriend…” kristoff added and you rolled your eyes at your oldest brother. the guy in the picture was actually the one sitting beside you, your boyfriend of almost a year now, so of course you glowed like you’re in a relationship.

“do you need my help to set you up with someone?”

kristoff’s eyes widened at martin’s so-called brilliant idea. “you’re a genius! or maybe charles can—”

“nope, no one’s good enough for her.”

charles’ statement left the entire table speechless, including yourself. you’d never heard charles spoken up so fast, with a tone so angry and facial expression so full of distaste, despite his blue eyes focused on the dish he was playing with.

“well, there’s kieran who just broke up—”

��can’t you just let your sister choose her own partner?” charles looked up and chose to shoot lasers to the head of the table, even it scared you a bit.

this side of charles was new, for he would always be seen exasperated when it involved things around racing, but it was probably because the topic was new. your idiotic brothers had never—ever—had a problem with your romantic life. tonight was the first time the duo ever sold the idea of matchmaking you since puberty waves hit the family.

charles let out a sigh so deep, you knew he regretted his outburst. “she’s all grown up, for god’s sake.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

charles_leclerc ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 952,767 others

charles_leclerc Sorry not sorry I snatched her first

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yn.odegaard wrong account?

→ pierregasly wrong account

→ landonorris wrong account

→ carlossainz55 wrong account

→ georgerussell63 wrong account

→ charles_leclerc maybe not?

odegaard.98 charles, just an fyi: this is not how you impress your future bro-in-law

kristodegaard you guys really shouldn't have hid anything from us, not cool @yn.odegaard @charles_leclerc

emilie.odegaard i love you for letting my brothers think the otherwise all this time

yourmomig i smell this from the first time i met you. welcome to the family, son!

→ yn.odegaard YOU DIDN'T????

→ odegaard.98 are we the only one left in the dark? @kristodegaard

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spideyanakin · 3 years ago

Text

hymne à l'amour - verse (c.l)

summary -monegasque princess!reader, princess falls in love with the people’s prince, but it’s not as easy as fairy tale bliss

charles leclerc masterlist

series masterlist

Listen to Hymne a l'amour by Edith Piaf

In all truths, you hated high society.

The constant reminder that every single little thing you did was looked by the media, watched by another force you had no control over.

You couldn't dress a certain way, put your hair like you wanted, you could barely go out with your friends. Relationships were hard enough, imagine being royalty. It meant commitment. Boyfriends couldn’t come and go, and if they did they had to be hidden.

But even if you did, truly love someone for everything they were—found the connection that made tingles through your spine, and make you feel like yourself, you knew you that you would have make them go through the pressure of becoming a royal.

And in a hypothetical situation, where you did find the love of your life; didn’t know if you had the heart to put them through it.

In a nutshell you felt trapped in a box.

A box where Formula one seemed to be—actually was, the only escape. The one thing you could allow yourself to love, that your royal life wouldn't tear away from you.

It was part of the culture, part of the Monégasque life.

You vividly remembered the first time you watched a race. You might have been 6 or 7 - all dressed in your pretty perfect little princess outfit.

You watched with admiration as all the cool, fast cars flashed before your eyes. As your people all stood at their balcony, cheering and screaming for each of them. You admired the multitude of different colored caps, shirts and banners - the sight making you smile.

You tugged at your father’s pants, big eyes peering to him, "who are you cheering for dad?" He smiled, eyes crinkling as he grabbed you, holding you in his arms to reply. He looked at the track, carefully awaiting something before answering you.

"Do you see this red one?" He pointed to Schumacher's Ferrari who passed so fast you barely caught sight of it.

"Yes," you nodded, eyes growing bright as the red car disappeared at the end of the road.

"That's who I'm cheering for," he bopped your nose, making you giggle.

The next thing you remembered is standing as still as you possibly could in between your parents. Watching in admiration as your father grabbed a beautiful trophy from a big Louis Vuitton case and handed it to the driver all in red who was standing before you.

Schumacher, your father had told you his name seconds before, and you watched as he smiled to you, which you mirrored all the same.

A sudden feeling, envy maybe, of wishing to become formula 1 driver flooding you.

But those dreams were quickly crushed.

A princess couldn't be a formula 1 driver—what would people say?

If you couldn't become one, you were glad you were at least allowed to like it.

As you grew up, you bugged your father to let you hand the trophies to the drivers, and year after year, it had even become tradition. The yearly headlines of how cute little you was holding the big trophy to hand it to the race winner only stopped when you became a teenager.

The headlines had changed into

'Tradition stays, Y/n of Monaco hands the trophies once again'

And every time it was the best weekend. The highlight of your year.

On the other hand, Charles always had an eye on you. Whether it was seeing you when you made public appearances, or when you handed formula 1 trophies.

He always seemed to spot you—from the streets of his beloved city, from his friends’s apartment window when he was still a kid watching the race and getting a view of the podium. Spotting you at the cinema with your dad. Or more recently, from the bright red Ferrari paddock.

The first year Charles joined the team, he was jumping on his heels at the thought of meeting you. It wasn’t hidden that you had a soft spot for Ferrari, and that you insisted on visiting the paddock before every race.

So that day, you waltzed into the red themed paddock, greeting the team you had so much hope for.

"How are you?" You cheered at Sebastian Vettle, the driver smiled at your sight, quickly meeting you to greet you with two kisses on the cheek.

"Amazing! How are you?"

"Great as ever," you smiled before smoothing the fabric of your designer outfit. One you actually liked this time.

"Y/n!" Binotto cheered and you handed him a smile.

You got into a small conversation, talking about the hope that Ferrari had with their car, and how he had hopes with his new driver.

Talking about the new Ferrari driver—as if on cue Charles stepped into the paddock, the top of his racing overalls still hanging low on his hips as he walked to ask Binotto a question.

What he didn't see was you.

"I had a questio-" He stopped in his steps the second he met your eyes.

Fuck. You were even prettier up close.

The girl he had spent years crushing on was standing right in front of him, a bright smile plastered on her face.

The worst part was that she wasn't even only his childhood fantasy crush. She was the freaking princess of Monaco.

Sebastian chuckled when he saw the way Charles froze mid sentence.

"Charles, meet our number one fan, Y/n." Sebastian placed a hand on your shoulder, and you matched his smile.

Charles was still frozen. Not really knowing if he had to curtsy or say something special upon meeting you. You seemed to spot his confusion and giggled.

"You don't need to bow or anything, Charles," you smiled. "Can I call you Charles?" You asked for confirmation with your eyes and he nodded, too scared of stuttering if he replied with words.

You knew his name

"Well it's nice to meet you, Charles." He thought he was going to die at how his name sounded on your lips.

You took a step forward to greet him with the usual two cheek kisses, his entire self screaming as he realized who was kissing his cheeks.

"It's so amazing having a Monegasque driver," you smiled, Charles feeling instant longing after your hand slipped off his shoulder. "I was so happy when you signed with Ferrari."

"Y- Yeah. Thank you," he blurted—cheeks reddening at your compliment.

"I'll be cheering for you," you winked, confidence suddenly flowing through your veins.

You thanked the years of training to stay still for events. Because you were internally screaming. You had been following Charles's career for years, as he was one of the rare successful Monegasque drivers. You had always wanted to meet him, but what you didn't know was how more handsome he would be in person.

On the other hand Charles became even more desperate to win this race. Not just because he would be the first Monegasque driver to win a home race in the history of F1. But suddenly, a feeling of wanting to impress you and receive a trophy that your beautiful hands had touched seemed to flow in him.

The rest of the day went to go well. As per usual, you stayed around in the paddock, greeting the other teams and answering questions from the media.

But your gaze was always drawn towards the young Ferrari driver. Your heart skipping a beat when ever you'd find him already staring at you.

But qualifying didn't go well.

After a problem with his car he had to retire and he was left fuming in the paddock.

He grabbed his water bottle, chewing at the straw in stress. Every year in Monaco was a disaster, and he was so mad it took everything in him not to scream or take his rage onto his car.

"Hey," your voice brought him out of his daze, "I'm sure the race will go well tomorrow," you smiled when you spotted him, removing your soundproof headset.

"You think?" He looked at you and you gulped at the beauty of his stare.

"I'm sure of it."

But the race did not go well.

Your heart shattered at the sight of him. He dropped his helmet and unzipped the top of his suit. Crashing on the first seat he saw.

This was his home race, and he never seemed to be able to finish one.

This wasn't fair.

"You know Monaco is not the only race of the season," and just like yesterday your soft voice seemed to bring him back to his senses. Opening his eyes to met your glance, sudden warmth rising in his chest at your sight.

"But you don't hand the trophies of the other races."

"You've got a point," you smirked, taking a seat next to him. "But don't bring yourself down. I'm sure you'll win a race in Monaco soon, there's always next season." Your hand traveled to his shoulder and he instantly melted under your touch.

"Will you be handing the trophies then?"

"Of course!" You chuckled. "Every year."

"Then I'll look forward to winning."

You didn't know how or why, but for a few seconds the world went silent. An indescribable bond sealing between the two of you. Eyes set on each other--and none dared look away.

Your breath hitched at the thought of him being so close to you, and you could feel your heart beating up to your ears.

Then you had a thought.

"I heard there were a few parties tonight," your eyes twinkled as the words left your lips, and Charles wasn't blind to it, "I'd love to meet you at one."

"That- that would be nice," Charles thought his brain was going to glitch.

“What’s your number?” You asked, grabbing your phone from your purse, and quickly opening the contacts. You placed your opened phone in Charles's hand.

Charles’s blinked, brain glitching before his finger flew faster than they ever had, rereading his number at least ten times to make sure he had it right.

You nodded when he handed you your phone back, smiling when you saw the emoji he added next to his name. You quickly sent him a message; “here, so you have my number.”

“I have to go,” you looked at your watch. “Get ready to hand the trophies and all,” your smile reflected the fact that you hated leaving him. “See you tonight,” you winked, leaving a dumbfounded Charles behind you.

After that night of partying, you and Charles became inseparable.

And in such a small amount of time you had become best friends.

Best friends who were deep in love with each other.

December had approached, and the cold, harsh, dry winds of Monaco brought a shiver to your shoulders, making you tighten your coat closer to your shoulders.

You smiled as you checked your phone; a text from Charles wishing you a happy flight to Paris. You thought about what to reply as you walked the small steps that led to your jet, sending him some goofy gif before putting your phone in airplane mode and back in your bag.

Sitting down on the comfortable seats, you let your head rest near the window, eyes closing as your thoughts traveled back to Charles.

In the little time that you knew him, he had seemed to consume you whole. You'd find yourself dreaming about those green eyes, that smile, and cute grins. The way you felt around him, how comfortable you felt around him.

Most people out there seemed to forget the human behind the mask of royalty, but in a way, Charles made you forget all that. He made you feel normal again, but special in his own special way all the same.

Somewhere deep inside you, you wanted nothing but to tell him that you maybe, just maybe, you wanted more than friendship. Tell him how in love with him you were, and kiss his lips until your lungs were out of air.

But you weren’t even sure if he liked you back. And even if he did, you couldn’t bring him into the swirl of royalty. You knew Charles and you knew that he didn’t mind living life in bling, but you also knew all the things that came with being a royal, and joining the royal family. All the expectations and codes. Even if Monaco was a small place, you loved Charles too much to put him through this.

You loved him too much to put him through the pressure of getting married and having heirs. Always expecting him to behave his best, make no mistakes.

The package that came with the relationship wasn’t something you could bring yourself to put on his shoulders.

You realized you had fallen asleep when your bodyguard woke you up telling you you had safely landed in Paris.

Mumbling a thanks and checking the clock, you quickly shook sleep out of you and got ready to leave the plane. Checking yourself in the mirror you got ready for the mass amount of paparazzi who would be waiting for you at the airport.

The classic Parisian gray sky made you smile a little. It changed from Monaco and you liked it. Paris was always an escape from royal life. An escape where you felt a little freer from the crown’s clutches.

Arriving to your hotel you were greeted with a stylist and a make-up artist. They had already settled in the room and laid out what you would wear - it just made you feel a little more like their barbie doll rather than you - but you pushed that thought away.

You smiled a little as you dropped your coat and sat on the vanity chair, and before you knew you were ready and all set to go to the FIA ceremony. You had no clue why they wanted you to hand out some of the prizes, you didn’t even know which prize you’d hand - but won’t one last look at yourself in the mirror, you took a shaky breath trying to get the speed of your heart to slow down.

Charles was going to be there, all handsome and you’d have to hand him an award.

Arriving there you had managed to calm yourself down.

Maybe it was the way Charles couldn’t stop staring at you, or the familiar faces and bright smiles that danced across the room.

You stood on the large stage, giving your most charming smile as you held the trophy in your hand, trying to remember the lines you had rehearsed before coming here.

It was something simple, something to reward Charles for this year’s performance.

The whole room clapped and you watched as your new favorite person walked up the stage, the eye contact between you too never breaking.

You embraced him, grinning from ear to ear as you did.

“i know it’s not the grand prix trophy, but hopefully this is the first trophy of many i give to you,” you whispered.

“God, I love you so much" he smiled as you handed him the trophy, you felt your cheeks burn up, leaving you wonder if he meant it as a friend or something else.

But the night went on, leaving you with this thought.

People smiled, talked and went on about how great this season had been for motor sports in general.

Max had passed by and you had chatted with him, but somehow Charles was always by your side. Being exactly where he should be when the whole after party turned into a dance floor.

Asking if you wanted to dance with him, the answer was too quick to leave your lips.

And before you knew it, his hands were on your waist, and yours around his neck. The upbeat music making you chuckle as you weirdly danced, making goofy faces at each other.

Maybe it was the champagne or the way his eyes were making you go dizzy, but you felt so much courage, you felt like it would be impossible for you to let go of him.

But after a few songs the whole vibe of the room changed. The bright music came to a stop, and of course how could you forget where you were.

Paris.

City of love, city of lights.

City of Edith Piaf.

There wasn’t one Parisien event where she wouldn’t be given an homage.

And well you didnt expect the DJ to choose her second most famous love song after la vie en rose, especially play it while you were in Charles’s arms.

You especially didn’t expect the lyrics to be hitting so hard.

When the first few notes started playing you gulped. Raising your stare to face his green eyes. The fact that he was already looking at you took your breath away for the millionth time that night.

You thought you were going to collapse right there, but then the thought of his hand on you was too hard to pull away from.

You tried to read his eyes, you both knew what this song was about.

Hymne a L’amour

A hymn to love

Somehow, you didn’t need to speak a single word, because the moment spoke for itself.

‘Le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer’

The blue sky can fall onto us

‘Et la Terre peut bien s'écrouler’

And the earth can crumble

Your head fell on Charles’s shoulder, and your eyes closed by themselves.

‘Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes, je me fous du monde entier’

If you love me, I won’t care

No words were shared between the two of you, but somehow, you knew that these lyrics applied to you’re relationship.

You knew this song, you had heard it a million times. But being there, dancing in Charles’s arms. It was like rediscovering the song all over again. The words held their own personal meaning now.

It made you think back to your own feelings.

Maybe if you were sure that he loved you back. That he loved you just as much as you did he wouldn’t care for the whole package deal that came with being with you.

‘Tant qu'l'amour innondera mes matins’

As long as love drowns my mornings

That sentence made you slip into an imaginary life you could have with him.

‘Tant qu'mon corps frémira sous tes mains’

As long as my body will shudder under your touch

This brought you back to the way his hands freely sat on your waist. Thinking about how much you’d love for them to roam even more freely.

You stopped yourself right there.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t add more wood to this fire. You were already falling for him and hard, you couldn’t make this more complicated than it already was.

But that damm song.

‘Peu m'importe les problèmes, Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes’

No matter the problems, my love, at least we love each other.

That sentence seem to click something in Charles, because he suddenly changed his movement and grabbed your hand, walking you away from the main room.

The sudden movements took you aback, and you had to take a long second to snap back out of your trans.

Charles looked at you with a look you couldn’t recognise. It was like he had been holding back a world of thoughts and they all came rising through at the same time.

But by the way he looked at you, your eyes probably showed the same crazy spark.

"Y/n, I’m tired of pretending." He huffed.

"What do you mean?" Your voice was so quiet you wondered if he had heard you.

"You know what I mean." before you could reply, he was cupping your cheek and leaned to press his lips on yours.

It was like an explosion in you.

You had dreamed about this for so long and now that it was actually happening your mind had a hard time comprehending what was going on.

But the music from the ball room could be faintly heard. The lyrics barely audible but the rhythm was enough to make you kiss him back with everything in you.

part 2

#first mate leclerc 🫧#charles leclerc one shot #Charles leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc x you #Charles leclerc x y/n #Charles leclerc #Charles leclerc imagine #f1 #monaco #monegasque #monegasque royalty!reader #f1 imagine #f1 driver #f1 fan fiction #formula 1

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spideyanakin · 3 years ago

Text

hymne a l'amour, chorus (c.l)

summary -monegasque princess!reader, princess falls in love with the people’s prince, but it’s not as easy as fairy tale bliss

charles leclerc masterlist

series masterlist

Hymne a l'amour by Edith Piaf

"Charles, people are going to notice our absence." A laugh escaped your lips as he caught your lips in a new kiss. Both his hands rested on your waist, making it impossible for you to slip away.

"I don't care." He mumbled as he kissed you again. Somehow you let yourself get caught in the moment again instead of battling with him.

You were sat on a desk, Charles standing in between your knees with his hand gripping your waist a little tighter as the kisses escalated.

You had been invited to a motorsports event that HAAS had organized at the White House. You didn't know why the White House - apparently something about the president wanting to encourage the USA to watch more motorsports? You didn't know. All you did know was that you were invited, and so was most of the formula 1 staff.

But what you didn't expect was to sneak out of the party and be making out with Charles in what you maybe thought was the red room - your back resting against a painting of Alexander Hamilton.

"I'm sick of hiding because I can't hold your hand in public." He mumbled. "or kiss you."

"And so it's an excuse to make-out in the White House? Against Alexander Hamilton may I add."

"Yes. I’m sure he doesn’t mind - he wasn’t able to sayy noo to thisss anyways. He understands."

“Did you just make a Hamilton reference?” You gasped.

“Yes.” he grinned before gluing his lips back to yours.

"I hate to say this, but can we please get back to the party?" You pouted. "I don't want to accidentally break something."

With a sigh he kissed you again, more gentle this time. Taking a step back and handing you his hand. You kissed his cheek before lacing your fingers through his and giving his knuckles a kiss too. Lastly you fixed his shirt and he fixed the strap of your dress before sneakily walking out of the room.

The whole party was a change of mood. You ended up slipping apart as you were both pulled into different conversations. It wasn't until Lando walked close to you that Charles brought his full attention back on you.

"You know, I've always wondered what it was like to be born and raised in Monaco." Lando leaned in a little bit, you could tell he probably had a drink too much and smiled a little before replying.

"Why don't you ask Charles?" You raised an eyebrow and looked at Charles who might have been talking with Carlos but was frantically looking to the side as he noticed Lando's flirting.

"Oh." That seemed to throw him off and he didn't really know what to reply. "Well um, I guess I just never thought to ask."

You giggled when you spotted Charles glaring daggers at Lando. Lando seemed to catch up on the fact that you were laughing and looked all confused.

"Sorry- just I overheard a funny thing Carlos said."

"Oh, yeah. Carlos can be quite funny." He smirked and took another sip of his drink. "You want to know a joke?"

"Sure."

"What do you call a Mexican who has lost his car?"

"You stole that joke from Pierre."

"I did." He mumbled, making you laugh - and obviously making Charles 3 times more jealous than he already was.

Your eyes were kept on Charles as you saw him leave Carlos and come towards the two of you.

"Hey, Charles!" Lando beamed and you could see that your boyfriend wouldn't reply in the same cheery tone. In fact he didn't even reply, just hummed as stood closer to you. Lando seemed to have his attention caught somewhere else and left.

"I can see you're jealous."

"I am" He replied without hesitation, making you laugh a little. "Which is why we need to make out in the red room again." That made a new fit of giggles fall from your lips.

"No"

The more you and Charles hid your relationship, the more it got harder to hide. Charles was desperately falling in love with you more every day, so much that tearing his eyes away from you for a second was too hard for him.

"Oh my god, look who is staring at you, again." Lewis pointed out and you turned your head to find Charles's gaze fixed on you, again.

Smiling to him, he gave you a short nod before walking away and back to a conversation he was having with one of his engineers about the race.

"He's the monegasque driver, right?" Prince Harry asked and you nodded.

"Yeah- we're good friends." You nodded as you continued your way through the paddocks, just the usual when you were at Silverstone. The same old path you would take just to pretend to be polite and say hi to the teams, where in all truths you were catching up with the princes and Lewis.

"I would say more than friends but whatever." Lewis chimned in, making you roll your eyes.

"So you're not denying it." Harry smirked.

"No, it's not like that." You lied.

"It's very much like that." Lewis went on. "Don't try to hide it from me, Y/n. Charles can never stop staring at you and somehow you're also always staring back."

"That doesn't mean we're together."

"Only a matter of time." He rolled his eyes again. "You should see them in Monaco." He turned towards Harry. "She's always glued to him in the Ferrari garage."

"Would make so much sense if you were with him tho. The f1 driver and the Monegasque princess." Prince Harry continued.

"You're right, it does sound good." Hamilton went with it and you decided not to answer.

"See, she's not answering."

"We're definitely onto something"

"Whatever" You rolled your eyes as you kept your act up.

What you didn't expect was to get seriously pissed at Lewis by the end of the race. Charles had been first for more than half of it, and no matter how proud you were that he had a podium - you were fuming.

But it was only when you found yourself back in Charles's motor home, away from all the sneaky eyes and cameras that you let yourself word it.

Wrapping your arms tight around Charles, and melting into his embrace as he closed you in the hug. You didn't even care for the fact that your clothes would be soaked in champagne. All that mattered was that you were proud of him, and he needed to know that.

"I'm so mad at Lewis." You mumbled into his neck.

"It's alright." He chuckled and he felt you shaking your head no.

"You deserved that win."

“Maybe I did.” He mumbled back.

For a second you stayed in each other's arms, appreciating the moment. Charles was drained, sweaty and the champagne was getting sticky - even he didn’t know how you could stand being his arms for so long when he was in this state.

"Didn't know you were friends with the royals." He mumbled after a while.

"Love, I've known them all my life." You chuckled. "William and Harry have known me before I could even talk"

"Didn't know." He smiled.

"Yeah. And well, Lewis had the audacity to mention that I had a crush on you." You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Indeed. Now Lewis and Harry won't stop bugging me about it."

"Ah, if only they knew."

Two weeks later, Charles was back in Monaco, enjoying the little time he got with his family. His mind wandered to you as he was cooking something.

He heard his phone ring from the living room, but in between the bacon on the stove and the potatoes who were about to burn, he couldn't go and answer.

"Arthur! Can you pick up the phone?" He yelled.

"Sure!"

"Who is it?" He yelled again.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he just saw a red heart emoji. "I don't know!" He replied before answering the phone, and slowly strutting towards the kitchen.

"Hello." His voice chimed.

"Hey, love." You smiled over the phone and Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I was wondering what time you're picking me up tomorrow? I miss you." Arthur choked on air and couldn't answer. "Hello? Charles?"

"Sorry, this isn't Charles, I'm his brother."

"Oh sorry, your voices sound identical." You suddenly felt embarrassed for not recognizing that this wasn't your boyfriend.

Arthur stayed frozen in the middle of the kitchen doorway and Charles mouthed 'who is it?', but Arthur didn't reply to him, he continued talking to you.

"And you are?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Arthur squeaked and he stared at Charles.

"Arthur give me the phone." instead of giving it to him, he put his hand out and told Charles;

"No, no I want to know more." he turned around and Charles let out an annoyed huff as he watched his brother gush over the phone.

"I didn't know Charles had a girlfriend." He told you, making you chuckle a little bit.

"Well he does."

"How long have you been together?"

"5 months"

"FIVE MONTHS?"

"Yeah. Can you pass me my boyfriend now?" You giggled.

"Alright, yeah." He frowned as he turned back to Charles. "Why does your voice sound so familiar? Have we met or something?"

"We might have seen each other once or twice."

Later at the diner table, the thought of Charles having a secret girlfriend didn't leave his mind. He served himself some more potatoes before speaking up.

"Mom, did you know Charles has a girlfriend?"

"A girlfriend?" Lorenzo raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he told me about her. I don't know much, though - he keeps her pretty secret."

"Yeah, I can see that." Lorenzo squinted his eyes towards Charles.

"Yeah - I only figured it out because I answered Charles's phone. Her voice sounded awfully familiar though" Arthur continued.

"Yeah, well I'm sure we will meet her when your brother is ready to introduce her."

"Thanks mom."

And they seemed to drop the subject. Pascale got back to her dish and got into a new conversation with Lozenro, but Arthur's ears caught the radio that was still on in the kitchen, it was an interview of you. Some lady was asking if you were still going to hand the trophies for the race this year. Of course you would.

Realization struck Arthur like a race car that crashed. He looked at Charles like a deer in headlights and Charles knew exactly what had happened - he was listening to your voice himself.

Arthur dropped his fork and blankly stared at Charles, the poor guy looked terrified - he knew his brother and what this look meant.

"You son of a bitch."

"Arthur!"

Before another word could be shared Charles and Arthur got out of their chairs and Charles sprinted upstairs, while Arthur was chasing him around.

Arthur was calling Charles's name like a madman while Charles just wanted to get away from his brother. When he hit a dead end, they had to stop. Charles raised his hand in the air so his brother wouldn't hurt him.

They both tried to catch their breath and Arthur spoke first.

"What the fuck."

"Don't tell mom."

"Don't tell mom?"

"Or Lorenzo." That confused Arthur even more. "If they find out they would flip out."

"WELL WHO WOULDN'T!"

"Arthur." Charles folded his eyes as he tried to think of the right words to calm his brother down. "Please"

"Hmm."

"Please." He pleaded again.

"You're going to have to tell them someday." He frowned.

"Yeah, but when that happens we have to get ready to tell the whole world." That seemed to make Arthur understand. "Everything will just escalate and go crazy from there."

"I get it... I guess."

Silence fell between the two and Charles could see the wheels going in Arthur's brain.

"So does that make you a prince of something?"

Charles face palmed.

"No."

"AH HA!" your dad walked in the living room and you looked up from your book with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?"

You watched him as he was smiling like an idiot, all happy and bright. You knew that look - it was when he made a new discovery about something he either really liked or that made a lot of sense, or even when he was right about something.

"I've made a pretty interesting discovery" See - you knew him too well.

"Go ahead"

"I know who you're boyfriend is."

You made a questionable face. "Dad, with the amount of time you've said that and got it wrong I-" He lowered his phone down to your face to see a video of you and Charles laughing. You gulped and the fact that he was right was impossible to hide.

By your silence he knew he was right too.

"See, I'm a genius."

"Well it did take you ten tries." You grumbled and fully closed your book, shifting to face him. You waited for him to speak again, a silent way of saying 'so, do you approve?'

"Good pick to be honest. I knew you had good taste" You folded your eyes and groaned, grabbing a pillow to throw it at him.

"So you approve?" You said a little hopefully after a second of silence.

"Of course I do, darling. I've always liked Charles." He nodded and you sighed of relief, standing to hug your dad.

"Thank you."

"But I think the entire world is suspicious now."

"What?" You pulled away.

"Yeah, how do you think I figured it out?" He showed you the articles.

Your jaw dropped when you saw a picture of you walking alone in Monaco in one of Charles's Ferrari shirts. It was a few days ago at a moment where you never thought you'd be seen. You had just left Charles’s apartment from an afternoon of playing video games with him and his brother; Arthur (who obviously wanted to meet you after he discovered who Charles was dating). You even had sunglasses and a hairstyle you never usually wore in public. You had no clue how some paparazzi spotted you. People were going insane because they recognized this as not just being a Ferrari shirt but being Charles's Ferrari shirt. The rip on the side gave it away - because on an instagram picture Charles had the same rip on the same shirt.

You scrolled through more headlines

IS Y/N OF MONACO DATING FORMULA 1 DRIVER CHARLES LECLERC?

CHARLES LECLERC, FUTURE PRINCE OF MONACO?

INSIGHTS ON HOW THE PRINCESS OF MONACO MIGHT BE DATING F1 DRIVER CHARLES LECLERC

"I mean people don't know for sure?" You winced. "They said this about me with other guys a bunch of times." It sounded more of a question than facts.

"I think you can keep hiding a little longer." You didn't know if that reassured you or not.

"Yeah, A little while longer."

After Charles's last race, he was back in Monaco just for a few days, and you were doing your best to take advantage of the little time you had with him. You both pushed away the rumors as just rumors - no one could know for sure, and it wasn't these rumors who would ruin your little bubble of love.

"Yeah, I'm soon launching my fashion brand." Charles beamed as he replied to a twitch comment. "I'm going to make a whole line of bandanas which is something I'm looking forward to"

You on the other hand completely forgot that he was live, you freely walked behind him to go and grab a book.

Suddenly the comments bursted out with -

'Omg there's a girl behind Charles!'

'CHARLES IS THAT YOUR GF?'

He looked at the comments and realized they could see half of your body walking across the camera. His cheeks went bright red and he started stuttering on his words. You realized as Charles started talking back to his twitch and gave him a 'Im sorry, I forgot' look

The good thing was that, at least they didn't see your face. You were wearing a sundress and it was almost impossible to put a face or a name on you by just your dress.

"Hey um- that was my girlfriend in the background." And the whole chat exploded, making Charles chuckle instead of being mad.

'So you're not dating the princess of Monaco???'

'omg no I shipped them :('

Charles smirked a little as he saw those comments pass and decided not to address them.

And finally when Charles ended his live, the two of you snuggled on his couch, Drag Race playing in the background.

“Well that was a close one.” Charles melted a little deeper into his couch.

“Yeah.” Somehow you didn’t joke about it like you usually would, and he found it suspicous.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered as he snuggled a little closer to you.

You sighed, looking back to your TV - watching as Ru Paul announced the winner of that episode.

“Gottmik”

“Huh?”

“Gottmik won that challenge - I watched that episode when it came out.”

“Y/n, please don’t change the subject.” He sighed.

"Alright, well I've been thinking." You played with his fingers.

That doesn’t sound good - Charles thought.

His mind went into all the multiple different versions of how this conversation would go. 50% wouldn’t end in his favor and he suddenly felt like a drag race contestant about to be told if he had to ‘sashay away’ or ‘shantay you stay’

"Maybe it's time we tell the world about us?" the breath that was stuck inside him released in relief. "I- I don't want to rush you. We both know the expectations that will be coming- but I mean. I think we've hidden long enough. I barely checked instagram and Tik Tok and the fans are already going mad since you revealed you had a girlfriend 30min ago." That made him smile a little. “Rumors are going around, my dad knows. I-”

“Yes” His answer took you a little bit by surprise.

"Really?

"Yeah." He brought your knuckles to his lips, dropping a kiss there. "I have an idea though."

"What’s your idea" You leaned a little closer.

"You know how I asked you and Pierre to pose for my brand?" You nodded. "How about we also pose together as well? For my website. The launch is in a month so that leaves us a month to tell the world. And maybe we could tell people by posting a picture together, right before the Monaco grand prix."

"And if you win I get to kiss you while handing you the trophy?" That made Charles's heart race in his chest.

"Yes."

And so you did.

Charles posted one of your favorites photos together, one where his arm was securely wrapped around your waist and he was leaning in to kiss your cheek from the side. You were smiling at the camera, one hand on Charles’s shoulder.

You smiled as you read the caption.

‘Because everyone seemed to wonder, here is the love of my life’

His caption made heat rise to your cheek, and you turned your head towards him - watching him as he slipped on his race suit. Keeping it hanging from his hips, something you always found extremely attractive for some reason.

He grinned before stealing a kiss from you, tangling his hand in yours before walking out of his motor home.

As expected the instagram post had made a small crowd of paparazzi gather in front of Charles’s door, they all gasped when they saw you step out and the clicks only increased.

You cracked a joke about how unexpected this was - Charles’s bright laugh being captured by more than one camera. If people wanted to know more about the two of you, all they would see were two people very in love that couldn’t stop making jokes, and that seemed like a good plan.

Carlos whistled once you arrived in the garage. The crowd that was surrounding you was long gone, left behind security.

“I knew something was going on.” The Spaniard cheered, making you crack a smile.

“Indeed.”

Charles kissed you before leaving to get ready - you weren’t blind to the clicks of sneaky cameras that had caught the kiss. But you didn’t care, you didn’t need to hide anymore.

You were on your toes the whole race. Because for once - in all the years of Charles racing on the monegasque circuit, he seemed to do well.

He climbed up to second, and you crossed your fingers - hoping that somehow the curse was finally broken and he would not only make a podium, but hopefully win the race and make history.

And win he did.

You had never seen so many cheers at a Monegasque race. Everyone was screaming, going absolutely wild as Charles got out of the car - lifting his fists in the hair like a madman. Your heart was madly beating in your chest as you watched from your spot on the podium, you were trying your best to blink happy tears away.

You were going to hand the trophy to the first Monegasque driver to ever win a home race - and not only that but he was your boyfriend. He was your Charles, forever your favorite driver.

Life couldn’t get any better.

You spotted him removing his helmet, he made eye contact with you and gave you a big wink, but you could even see in his eyes that he was on the verge of tears.

He climbed the steps after Carlos and Max. Once he was up on the podium area, he reached his hand to you. You grazed his hand before letting him walk up to the N1. Everyone was going wild, you had never heard the fans cheer so loud and it made your smile even wider.

You waited as the ladies all dressed in white handed you the N1 trophy, your heart racing father than his Ferrari as you walked closer to him. Meeting his teary eyes you felt a tear of your own slip down your cheek. You both smiled to each other as you gave him the trophy. He raised it in the air and you stayed there to watch - your chest warming up with pride.

Once he lowered his trophy and saw you were still there. He pulled you onto the podium, making you giggle a little. He caught your lips into a kiss that made everyone cheer even more.

“Are you crying?” He whispered.

“No, you are.” You wiped a tear, and as much as you wanted to stay right there with him, you had other trophies to hand.

You jumped off the podium, his hand only leaving yours when you were too far. Carlos joked when you handed him his trophy, and Max did the same. Something about being jealous they didn't get a kiss too, making Charles playfully roll his eyes at his friends.

You were going to get back behind them, but Charles wouldn’t have it. Instead he took your hand and made you climb again, securely wrapping his arm around your waist so you wouldn't leave his side.

For a second you dug your face in his neck, squeezing him a little tighter and whispering congratulations. As much as you were trying to hold back your happy tears it seemed almost impossible. You were a wreck of joy once you were in his arms.

You stayed for as long as you could, hidden in his shoulder as a few tears passed. Even Charles was trying his best to hide his own.

When the Monegasque anthem started playing, you wiped your eyes and looked at the crowd, your head still resting on his shoulder.

To say this was unforgettable week end would be an understatement.

Fin.

#first mate leclerc 🫧#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x you #Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x y/n #Charles Leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #monaco grand prix #f1 #formula 1 #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver #monegasque royalty!reader #monaco

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spideyanakin · 3 years ago

Text

hymne a l'amour, pre-chorus (c.l)

summary -monegasque princess!reader, princess falls in love with the people’s prince, but it’s not as easy as fairy tale bliss

charles leclerc masterlist

series masterlist

Listen to Hymne a l'amour by Edith Piaf

You woke up to the dim light coming in from the lazily drapped curtains. Blinking sleep out of your eyes, you tried to stretch but something was blocking the way.

More like someone.

Fuck.

What in the world happened last night?

The more your eyes adjusted to the light, the more you realized that you were in a hotel room similar to yours. You thought it was probably the same hotel, but different room.

But the real question was who had their arms securely placed around you?

That's when the memories of the night flashed before you.

The ceremony, the dance.

The song.

Charles's lips on yours, his hands freely roaming your body as the kisses escalated. The whispers of love. The way the two of you got into the first cab back to the hotel when you couldn’t hold back the force that pulled you together.

The way you had forgotten every thing that came with your name and threw It out the window just to be with Charles - to get to wake up in his arms, even if it was just for one night.

Just for one night.

That's what you told yourself.

Between the music, the champagne and the way his eyes looked at you with so much love - you told yourself you would let It happen for one night only.

For one night you would get to experience what it was like to be his.

But this morning you cursed yourself for doing so, and you blamed alcohol for the poor judgment.

You hadn't calculated the way his arm would settle around your body. How you would slowly wake up to the sound of his breathing. Something about it felt so comfortable, so natural. You could almost stay like this forever, like you were meant to spend the rest of your life right there, nestled in his arms.

But you had to get a grip.

As much as you wanted to be with him - you loved him too much to bring him through the curse of royalty. Even if he had whispered words of love the other night, and no matter how much your heart was telling you too, you couldn't bring yourself to stay.

As quietly as you could, you slipped out of his embrace - gathered your clothes and grabbed your phone.

You thanked your tipsy self for texting your body guards that you were staying at a friends for the night - or else you would have woken up to a missing princess disaster.

You sighed once you were all dressed up and ready to go. Looking at the man you were so in love with one more time, something in you wanting nothing but to snuggle in his arms and tell him you were his.

But your mind was telling you other wise. Forgetting the classic ‘always listen to your heart’, your hand wrapped around the door handle.

A single tear falling as you realized this might be the turning point in your life. Where you decided if you truly wanted to marry for love and keep Charles. Live the life you wanted. Or leave now and see your entire world turn gray, crumbling to bits. You knew won't be able to see Charles any other way now, that was too late. Your friendship was broken - and it could have either been turned to something more, or in this case something way worse. Something you’d never thought you’d live.

You didn’t know how you were strong enough to choose the second option.

Maybe it was because you loved. That force of wanting to keep him safe.

With one last look, you disappeared into the maze of the hotel halls.

Charles was confused enough to find you missing when he woke up, he was even more confused when you ignored his messages.

Somehow - in his mind, he thought he would been able to wake up by your side, and see how pretty your eyes were in the morning. Giggle your way around what had happened and maybe even express your love for each other.

Wrap his arms around you and kiss every inch of your face until you’d force him to stop. He would have ordered you room service and you would have laid in bed while probably watching old seasons of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Making sassy comments at the outfits and arguing about who should have won and why.

Maybe even make out some more in between all that, and maybe, just maybe he could even have called you his after.

But that didn't seem to be his luck.

His luck was to wake up to a half empty bed, with no notes and no traces of you but the faint smell of your perfume in the sheets and the ghost of your touch.

Charles ended up going back to Monaco with a brick stuck in his stomach and a hole in his heart. His mind frantically going back through ever thing that had happened.

Was it something he said? Did you just think of him as a one night stand? Was he stupid to think you loved him back? Stupid enough to think he could have a future with you?

Of course he was. You were the freaking princess of Monaco. You didn't deserve him. You were probably going to spend the rest of your life with some fancy monarch like you deserved.

Someone born and raised the same way as you.

Charles's apartment felt somehow more empty when he got back, but maybe it was because of the way your kiss was still ghosting his lips and he knew he could probably never feel them again. Maybe the loss that he felt on the inside was reflecting in his space.

Even the Monegasque sun didn't feel as bright when he hadn't heard your voice on the phone for a while.

You couldn’t say you had a better day.

The storm of messages and missed calls from Charles didn't help the gut wrenching feeling that was munching at you.

With that in mind the second you landed in Monaco you were pushed back into the responsibilities of the crown. The paper work, learning with your dad, weird governing business you somehow had to do.

For a week you were drowned in royal business, and for a little while it made you forget the pain.

It wasn't until you had lunch with your friends at one of your favorites restaurants that you caught his gaze.

The one you had ignored for a week now.

These sharp green eyes that brought chills down your spine as you watched him walk into that same restaurant. When he spotted you, he froze for a second before he handed you a small sad smile. It made you feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and squeezed.

You tried a nod as he passed by and sat beside his brother a few tables further.

You had never been like that with Charles. So cold, so distant. It made you want to throw up.

You missed him so much you wanted to leave your friends - forget royalty and sit by him, hold his hand and maybe mend everything that had been broken.

But you didn't.

You stayed sat with your friends, your back towards Charles. And just like that another week that passed by.

The buzz of pictures of him in Cancun or what ever exotic last minute trip he had planned for himself were passing by your socials. And somehow seeing him happy didn't make you feel better.

But that hole in your heart had to be masked. You had a ball tonight, and you had to look your best as always.

Standing there by your parents, a beautiful blue ball gown with your favorite pearl and diamond crown somehow made you feel a little better. People were dancing and chatting, and at some point you even let yourself smile. Putting you out of your misery for a short while.

The food was also a comfort. The ensemble of cream puffs and sweets seemed to make you forget your self loathing.

You had danced with an old friend, some prince from another European country. And even though it was nice he wasn’t the one whose arms you wanted to be in.

He quickly got a new dance partner, and you found yourself drifting towards the larges opened doors that led to the gardens. Warm winter nights were rare but somehow the weather had been kind, and the air was just perfect enough to cool down the ball room.

You leaned against a wall as you eyed everyone in the room.

From princesses to dukes, it was filled with royals and people of the court.

The pretty dresses and hairstyles warmed your heart, but watching the couples dance or lovingly chat quickly made you fall back down into your spiral.

You tried to find anything to get Charles away from your mind - trying to bring back your cheery front for the guests. But the night wouldn’t have it.

And it only got worst when the band decided it was time to toy with your feelings even more.

When you heard the first few notes, you wanted to fall, scream, cry, punch the hell out of the guy who made the set list.

But instead you were stoic. As still as a tree.

Your eyes hand landed somewhere on the floor and you were stuck in deep thought - the song faintly playing in the background.

You had to close your eyes when the lyrics started.

The fact that they had decided to play Hymne a l’amour, when this song had somehow become linked to you and Charles, and when at the same time you had been mentally torturing yourself over the relationship had to be a joke, somehow. Or maybe the universe just decided to punch you in the gut again.

The more the song went on the more you had to hold back your tears.

"J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde, si tu me le demandais"

I would go to the other ends of the world, If you asked me so

You felt a tear slip by itself, wiping it as quickly as it came.

You would truly do anything for Charles, and this song wasn't helping your internal conflict.

You had to stop denying that you could live your life in a lie. You had to stop lying to yourself about being able to live a life without him.

"Je renierais ma patrie, Si tu me le demandais"

I would renounce my country, if you asked me so

At this point you were silently cursing at Edith Piaf. How dare she right so accurate lyrics? Because in a heartbeat you would renounce the throne, in a heartbeat you would run away with Charles and leave all this behind.

But you couldn’t.

As an only child you were the only heir to the throne. Unfortunately your dad was only child as well. Which meant that if you were to give up your duties, you would strip Monaco from heirs and it would be turned over to France. You were truly stuck.

"Si un jour, la vie t'arrache à moi, Si tu meurs, que tu sois loin de moi. Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes, car moi je mourrais aussi"

If one day, life would tear you away. If you die, or if your far away. Little matters if you love me, because I would die with you.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Because the tears were now freely falling. You stepped out of the ball room and into the gardens, the cool air barely making you flinch.

You tried to wipe away the tears, but the more you did the more they were falling.

Finding the nearest bench, you decided to make your stop here. Digging your face in your hands as soft sobs escaped you.

The song was right.

If something were to happen to Charles, you wouldn’t survive a single second.

If this wasn’t proving to you that you were meant to be with him, then you didn’t know what did. With this trail of thought, nothing seemed to matter anymore, nothing but spending the rest of your life with him.

You didn’t care anymore, because if you’d let yourself tell him - give him the choice to choose between being a royal or not being with you. At least you would have tried, at least you would have told him. At least you would have done what you could to be with him, because life was too short to live over what ifs.

But it hit you again.

You had been so mean to him. Ignoring him and leaving him to wake up alone back in Paris.

Maybe things couldn’t be mended? Maybe it was too late.

That made a new sob leave your lips.

"It seems like you don’t really like Edith Piaf” a voice made you jump and put a hand over your heart.

Turning your head and lifting your gaze you realized it was just your dad. He walked towards you with a frown, and sat next to you.

"What’s wrong?" He put a hand on your knee, and you leaned on his shoulder. "You’ve been acting depressed ever since you got back from Paris. And now you left crying. I thought you loved balls?" He frowned

You sniffed instead of answering. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to word your feelings. Like you felt embarrassed even.

"Darling, please." Your dad continued. He shifted so you’d stop leaning on him and look at him instead. "What is it?" All you could see was his sympathic eyes, the ones that were trying to comfort you and it was somehow working. "Heartache?" He hit it right in the first try.

You closed your eyes and bit your lower lip when you felt more tears trying to make their way out. You looked down to your lap, to ashamed to meet his eyes.

"I messed up, dad." You sniffed. "I pushed him away because I was scared. Scared he would leave me the second he realizes what it means to be with me."

He seemed to understand your problem because instead of bringing judgment on the table, he sighed and closed you in a hug.

"Have you told him how you felt?"

"No." You mumbled.

He waited a second before pushing you away from the hug again and putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Here, I want you to ask yourself something."

"What?" You wiped your cheek.

"Do you love him?" He seemed to see through your soul as he asked that question, and you felt your stomach flip before answering.

"Yes." You didn't need to think twice.

"Do you think he feels the same?"

Something in that question made you think. He had told you he loved you back in Paris, but did he really? or was it just the champagne talking?

It made you think back to all those little things. Like the way he brushed your hand in a crowded room to tell you he was here for you. Or the way he would catch your glance when you were anxious. How he would always make sure he would be there for you. Be here if you needed to call him at 3 am.

How his eyes would light up every time you'd enter a room. How his hugs would linger, and how he would make sure you always had enough to eat on days where you were extra anxious. How he asked for consent before taking any further steps in Paris.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then if he really does, I'm sure you can fix what ever happened."

"You think?"

"Yes. And if he loves you, really loves you, I'm sure he will accept every side of you. Even the one that's full of royal responsibilities."

"Maybe." You played with your fingers before looking up to your dad.

"Worst case scenario we can play bachelorette with the list of monarchs that would love to marry you" that made you chuckle through the tears.

"It's true though." He smiled. "Promise me you'll try to talk to him?"

"Yeah."

Toying with the rims of your jacket, you munched at your bottom lip in stress. Lifting your gaze to look at the elevators number go up, up, up.

Ding.

The doors opened in front of you and you had to hold your breath to be able to step out.

You looked back to your phone, and heard Charles say goodbye to his twitch followers before turning the live off.

Good. He was home and he was free.

You blankly stared at his front door. The dark green door you loved so much. The one where every time you stepped through it you felt just you, rather than the Princess of Monaco. It was one of the rare places in the entire of Monaco you felt human rather than a creation of the media.

It took all your courage to raise your fist and gently knock on the door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t just rang the bell - maybe it was because you were so use to knocking on doors in the castle rather than ringing a bell to enter.

You heard as he shuffled in his apartment. Your heart matching his footsteps as he walked to the door and opened it.

The second it was opened to reveal your form his eyes went wide.

You on the other hand, had to hold your breath. He was looking really handsome. All tanned from his week in the sun, wearing a yellow bandana you had gifted him, his hair going wild behind it. He was wearing one of these white t-shirts you thought he looked amazing in, and his eyes looked a little tired but for you he was still the most handsome man in the world.

"Hey." His traits softened a little and he forced a small smile. But you could see a sad glim behind his eyes that made your heart shatter.

"Hi, Charles." His stomach filled with butterflies when you said his name.

You didn’t share a word. It was like a silent staring contest. Who would crack first? Who would be the first one to burst into tears and declare their burning love for the other?

It had to be you.

You dropped your small bag, or more like let it slip away from your arm. Taking a large step to wrap your arms around Charles.

You felt like it was a miracle that he didn’t flinch away, and instead wrapped his strong arms around you. The door somehow closed by itself, luckily your bag had dropped a cm inside his home.

Charles took a step back into his apartment, with you still wrapped in his arms, trying not to bump into furniture as he did.

"Im sorry." You whispered as a cry fell from your lips. The tears staining his shoulder as they uncontrollably fell. "I’m so sorry." You apologized again, and instead of replying he rubbed comforting circles on your back, putting his chin onto of your head.

It felt so good to be in his arms again. Almost like coming home. And between the overwhelming feeling of guilt that you had broken his heart and the way your two bodies fitted like two pieces of a puzzle, your grip tightened around him and you sniffed again.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours. Just you and him, holding onto one another.

"Hey." He finally broke the silence, pushing you a little away so he could see your face.

"Hi." You sniffed, opening your eyes to see his teary red ones.

"I don’t want to loose you, Charles." You said after another moment of silence. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying again.

"You won’t loose me, Y/n/n. You will never be able too." He somehow managed to give you a sad chuckle. "I understand if you want to stay friends." his voice got quiet.

"I don’t want to stay just friends." That took him aback.

"You don’t?" He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head.

"I don’t" you repeated, more sure of yourself this time.

He looked at you with confusion written all over his eyes. The hands around you held a little tighter, as if you wouldn’t disappear before him and slip away again. Leave him alone to wake up from a crazy dream.

"I want to be with you." You leaned and rested your forehead against his. "And it kills me that I left you alone that morning in Paris." You closed your eyes. "It kills me that I thought for one seconds that I could live without you in my life. That I could leave you out of the clutches of royalty, but I’m too selfish." A new tear had made his way. "Im selfish because I want you, and only you. Selfish because I love you." These three little words coming from you didn’t feel real.

"That’s not selfish." He moved his nose so he’d be touching yours. "That's just falling in love." He sighed. "Being so in love with someone you’d be ready to steal the moon for them."

"Like that Edith Piaf song." You noticed. "Si tu me le demandais, j'irais décrocher la Lune" you quoted

If you asked me so, i would steal the moon for you.

"Exactly like that."

His eyes traveled down to your lips, and without another second to spear he closed the gap between your two bodies. Your lips moving in sync with each other as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist.

At this moment the two of you were determined not to stop. After two weeks of thinking you would never get the luck to do that again. It felt like breathing after being stuck under water, or smelling an old perfume from your childhood.

It felt just right, just where you were suppose to be.

And his lips didn’t leave yours until dawn had shown itself.

This time Charles did wake up with you by his side. Your eyes were already opened and you had been laying next to him, tracing the softest touches to his chest.

His arm went to snake around you, like it should have done that morning in Paris. He moved around so he would be laying halfway ontop of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Morning." You giggled as you felt him nuzzle himself even further on your shoulder.

Instead of forming a proper word he groaned, tightening his grip on you.

You couldn’t help the smile that plastered your lips. The hand that wasn’t tangled in his tracing circles on his back.

"Is this a dream?" He asked and you smiled.

"No. This is reality, my love."

"Can you say that again?"

"Say what?" You raised an eyebrow.

"You know."

"M’y love?"

"Yes." You could feel his smile on your neck.

"You’re… i was going to say wide awake but I doubt it." You chuckled. "You’re half awake, and I’m right here, my love. You're not dreaming."

And the rest of the morning went exactly like Charles had longed for.

The two of you making out until you were fully awake and realized you had to get out of bed. He had made you breakfast and you ate it in front of the first drag race episode that popped on your tv.

You complained about how you wanted a certain Drag Queen to win because ‘she had the coolest looks’ while finishing up the pancakes.

The two of you had laughed about nothing and everything. He had even chased you around the apartment after you had sprayed him with whipped cream.

But you couldn’t hide from your duties for ever. A call from the palace’s management team asking you where the heck you were and telling you you had a meeting to get ready for in the afternoon.

It made your stomach twist and you wanted to scream. You were so well in your little bubble of love, that you never wanted to leave.

"What is it?" Charles frowned as he snuggled on your side.

"Call from the palace."

"You don’t look pleased." He noticed.

"I have to go back. I have a meeting this afternoon, apparently."

"Ah" He stood up a little and toyed with your fingers.

"It’s alright. I can come back after."

"You can?" His eyes lit up.

"Probably."

"Deal." He kissed your knuckles and sat up, making grabby hands at you so he would help you stand up.

You giggled as you landed in his arms, Charles peppering you with kisses.

You ended up taking a shower and reluctantly leaving Charles’s clothes to dress back into your less comfortable ones. But your time alone only made you think over things.

You sighed as you realised you had to talk to him. You couldn’t lead Charles into a mess he wasn’t aware of.

"Hey love." He smiled as he put the last dish in the washer, wiping his hands before leaning on his counter.

"Hey." You went to snuggled in his arms, staying like this for a few seconds before sighing and speaking again. "Charles, we have to talk."

"Oh?"

"How are we labelling this?" You lifted your head to look at him, and he looked confused and scared at the same time.

"W-well- I was thinking that I consider you as my g- girlfriend now." He stuttered, to scared of your reaction. "But if-"

"Charles." You cut him off "That's exactly the answer I was looking for." Charles breathed a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding. "But you also have to understand what it means..." He told you to go on with his eyes. "If- or I think in this case we can both say when. When this relationship goes further, it means commitment. It means that we will need to get married, and we will need to have heirs at some point. Whether we like or not. And so I want you to know this. Because if you don't want to get married- or- or have kids, I'm not the right person to be with. And in years, when you leave F1 you won't be able to do what ever you like. We might be crowned rulers which means that you'll be stuck with royal duties. And if we hate each other when we're 60 or what ever. Divorce is off the table."

For a second he went silent, assessing you. And the more he was silent, the more your heart was going faster than his Ferrari on a race week end.

"Y/n" His voice was calm. "I’ve always liked the idea of marriage." He smiled, dropping his hand from your waist to hold yours. "And kids sounds like a nice idea for the future."

"You're not saying this just because of me?" He shook his head and you wanted to cry.

"I want all those things, with you and with you only. We won't be trapped, we can travel the world when they don't need us" It was like a weight had left your shoulders. Somehow life made sense now, and somehow all your worries had gone away. "And even if we somehow find a way to despise each other which will probably be impossible, I think I'll still love to be stuck with you forever." That made you chuckle a little.

"You don't like speaking with if's, do you?"

"Not when I'm talking about my future with you."

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"As long as you love me, I won't care."

"Oh my god, we have to stop quoting Edith Piaf."

"Well you’re coming back um" Your dad paused mid sentence "latearly"

"Latearly?" You raised an eyebrow as you dropped your coat on a random chair and left your shoes next to it.

"So late that it’s become early." He looked back to his paper, and you let out a short laugh.

"You could say that. Yes, latearly"

"I take it you were with that mystery guy?”

"Maybe"

"So he lives in Monaco." He nodded in approval.

"He doesn’t just live in Monaco, dad. He’s from Monaco"

"Ok, but can we talk about how much I approve of that?"

"I knew you would." You smirked.

"You think his head is fit for the crown?"

"I think so." You smiled dreamingly.

"Fantastic, so that’s out of the way." Your dad sighed in relief and flipped another page of todays paper. "So when can I meet the future prince?"

"Dad. We just started dating."

"Ok, I'll wait." He grumbled.

"We both know how patient you are." You rolled your eyes and watched as he stopped reading his paper to think. "Isn’t there this one Monégasque formula 1 driver you’re out with all the time?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Charles."

"Is it one of his friends?" You wanted to laugh at the question.

"Im not telling you."

"Dammit."

part 3

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