#my boy charles pot

[happykeanu]

Okay but those clips of vasseur actively trying to murder Carlos during his birthday celebration are sooo on brand 😂

[theemporium]

[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.

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“When did you say he was coming?” 

“Maman.” 

“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”

“Ugh, don’t call him that.” 

“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.

And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.

The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure. 

And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.

Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.

You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either. 

You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.

You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived. 

You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.

“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.” 

“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.

“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.

“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”

Charles rolled his eyes.

Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door. 

Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door. 

He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect. 

But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life. 

“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”

“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.” 

“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”

“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”

You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”

Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something. 

But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you. 

“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.

Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”

...

...

“You’re ignoring me.”

You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.

“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.

Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”

“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”

“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned. 

Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”

“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice. 

You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things. 

And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head. 

You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this. 

His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information. 

Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 

“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.

“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”

Your chest tightened again. “Max—”

“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Max—”

“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.” 

And it hurt. 

It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”

The concern returned. “What upset you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”

Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”

You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”

...

...

...

“Can we talk?”

Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen. 

He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale. 

There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you. 

He wasn’t expecting Charles. 

“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.

“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.” 

Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response. 

“What?” 

“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke. 

“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.

“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”

And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation. 

He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.

And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger. 

It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers. 

For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan? 

The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.

“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”

“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”

Max didn’t say anything.

“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.” 

“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”

Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.

And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.

Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth. 

But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.

“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth. 

“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”

“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.

“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”

And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others

yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!

view all 17,932 comments

landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?

danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories

maxverstappen1 you both suck

user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED

user meeting the in-laws!!!

user okay but those flowers are so pretty???

pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!

charles_leclerc MAMAN???????

user this is my roman empire fr

user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max

arthur_leclerc so close

maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet

yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?

oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.

yourusername what children

logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!

yourusername grow up

user this is everything i needed and more

user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?

yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking

maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo

yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you

.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xii

part eleven - part thirteen

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ your life turns upside down when the worst thing happens. Charles takes this as his cue to make amends but lando doesn't appreciate any of it.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ sorry but not really but you have to love a little chaos <3 also, I don't like how this turned out but that's because I've had to redo it twenty times today because tumblrs a little bitch and won't let me safe stuff that's in my drafts so I hope you enjoy it 💀

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, milliexoxo and 763,679 others

y/nusername week 12. 🇬🇧

view all 1,452 comment's

oscarpastry the bracelets 😭

norrizz still not over zoë and lando their little fistbump before the race 🥺

↳ norry4 that's his lucky charm for sure

mclaren our boys! 🧡

notrell my girl is looking fire but there's no simping lando in sight :(

charles_leclerc ma princesse ❤️

↳ chilisainz I know this is probably about zoe but something tells me this is about y/n too 💀

yukisan no you're right, he's got y/n on his mind as well 🤡

chilisainz that's probably why lando has been shooting daggers at Charles the last couple of days lol

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

[youaresimplylovely]

𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳1 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 !

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff, crack, smut

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: fun fact I actually speak Spanish :>

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂: lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos Sainz, nd' max verstappen

★ 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀:

"¡¡Estoy aprendiendo español!!" (I'm learning Spanish!!)

"hola mi chico guapo perfecto" (hello my handsome perfect boy/hello my perfect handsome boy)

"Quiero además, tu mamá dijo que mi español está mejorando y le encanta" (I want to and your mom said my Spanish is improving and she loves it)

"¿¡en realidad!?" (Really!?)

"mi amor" (my love)

"dios mío" (my god)

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@pear-1206 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @inchident-jpg @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore55 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @darleneslane @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @papaya-twinks @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @thebasicbiatch @67-angelofthelordme-67 @tallrock35 @sya-skies @hockeyboysarehot @iloveyou3000morgan @sugaspawsmari @aymfsts @khaylin27 @be-your-coffee-pot @yettobedetermined7 @dhanihamidi @formula1simp @bokutos-babyowl @peachiicherries @youdontknowmeshh @nyramylove @annispamz @formulaal @scout-likes-sharks @valentine @oliviah-25 @ilovethispookie @multifandombitxh

[mssainz]

PART 7 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: Nothing just wholesome

Cael is excitedly showing Carlos his toy car collection. “I have this Volkswagen Golf GTS from Uncle Danny. And this is my Ferrari Sf90 Stradale that Mama bought me on my birthday,” Cael said, presenting his toys to his father. “You have some really impressive cars, my love. Which one is your favorite?” Carlos asked, gently stroking Cael's hair.

Quickly, Cael rummages through his bag to find his favorite car. “This one, Papa. I have many favorites. But recently, mine’s this LaFerrari. Uncle Charles gave it to me when he won a podium.” Carlos smiled at the way he pronounced LaFerrari, with an emphasis on the 'r' sound. “Wow, you also have a LaFerrari? What do you like about it?” Carlos asked, pleased that Cael was so assertive and easy to converse with.

“It's incredibly fast, Papa. And Uncle Charles said it uses electric hybrid power. I don't really know what that means, but 'hybrid' plus 'power' sounds cool to me,” Cael replied, causing Carlos to chuckle at his innocence.

From the doorway, you've been watching your boys talk about cars. They've been inseparable since the afternoon. Clearing your throat to catch their attention, you ask, “It's already time for dinner. What do you want to eat?”

Carlos turned to Cael, “Baby, what do you want to eat?”

“Anything delicious, Papa. Something without pistachios,” Cael responded, causing Carlos to laugh as he recalled Cael's reaction to pistachio ice cream. “Okay, anything delicious without pistachio coming right up,” Carlos said, lifting Cael, who giggled in response.

“Let me cook for you two,” Carlos suggested as he passed you, heading for the kitchen. “Okay. Thanks, I guess,” you replied, following them downstairs.

In the kitchen, Carlos handed Cael back to you and began to prepare the meal. “Your fridge is well-stocked for someone just on vacation here,” he commented. “Does Cael have any food allergies?” he asked you.

“No, luckily he doesn’t have any food allergies,” you replied.

“Not even strawberries?” Carlos asked, aware of your own allergy.

“No, he is not allergic to strawberries,” you confirmed.

While Carlos cooked, you and Cael played at the counter. Carlos would occasionally glance over, smiling at the domestic scene.

“Why am I getting so many kisses from you, Sebastian Cael?” you asked, amused by your son's affectionate nature.

“You did nothing, Mama. I just love you,” he replied.

“Can I get kisses too?” Carlos interjected, also wanting some affection.

“Of course, Papa,” Cael said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I love you, Mama. I love you, Papa,” he added, hugging both of you.

You enjoyed the hug but felt uncomfortable with the close proximity to Carlos. As you were about to point out the food spilling from the pot, Carlos noticed and rushed to the stove, causing both you and Cael to laugh.

After dinner, you took care of the dishes while the boys continued their playtime until well past 10 pm.

"Carlos, I think it's time for you to go. It's already past ten, and Cael needs to sleep. You should get some rest too," you said. Carlos looked at you, surprised at how time had flown.

"No, Mama," Cael instantly clung to Carlos when he heard talk of bedtime. "Baby, it's already past your bedtime. You need rest. Papa needs to rest too," you tried to convince your son.

Carlos attempted to gently remove Cael’s hand from his neck. "Papa, no! Don't leave, Papa," Cael protested, starting to cry. Tears blurred your vision as you felt a pang of sympathy for him. Carlos returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with tears.

"Papa, please stay," Cael begged. Carlos comforted his son, trying to explain the situation. "Oh baby, as much as I want to stay, Papa has to go to prepare for the upcoming race," Carlos told the still sobbing Cael.

“Aww baby,” Carlos said, wiping away his tears. You approached them, gently rubbing Cael's back. “Cael, look at Papa. I have to go tonight, but I promise I'll fetch you on Sunday and take you to the paddock to watch me race. I'll even let you ride in Papa’s Formula 1 car. Is that okay, my love?” Carlos proposed, hoping to appease his son.

Cael, still sniffing and sobbing, managed to nod. “Stop crying, baby. Papa has already agreed to let you watch his race. We'll go to the paddock, okay? You'll watch him race in the Ferrari garage, honey,” you added.

Slowly calming down, Cael agreed to come with you. “Bye, Papa. Drive safely,” he said, kissing Carlos goodbye. “Thank you, baby. Papa will see you on Sunday, okay? Be a good boy for Mama, hmm?” Carlos said, ruffling his son's hair. Cael gave a small nod in response.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Carlos said to you, receiving a nod and a smile in return. “Drive home safely, Carlos,” you reminded him before walking him to his car with your son. Carlos kissed Cael on the cheek and, without thinking, kissed your temple before entering the car. You didn't have time to react as you were holding Cael, but your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture.

Carlos arrived home, grinning as he headed to his room. He couldn't shake off his smile; the upcoming practice race didn't even cross his mind. He was merely thrilled about the day he had spent with you and Cael. Unexpectedly, he found his father standing in the corner of his room.

"Dios Mio, Papa, what are you doing there?" Carlos asked, startled.

His father replied with a raised eyebrow, "You've been humming and smiling like a teenager since you got here, Carlos. What's going on?"

Carlos continued to smile at his father, responding, "Nothing, Papa. I'm just happy."

His father squinted at him, pressing for an answer. "Are you drunk or on drugs?"

"No, Papa, I'm completely sober. I'm not on drugs either. Something really special just happened today," Carlos began.

His father interjected, "Did you sign a new contract?"

"That would be nice, Papa. But something even more special happened," Carlos said, pausing for effect. "I met my son!"

His father put his hand on his forehead, "You're on drugs. I'm sure of it."

"Papa, no. I'm telling the truth," Carlos said, showing him his phone wallpaper. It was a picture of you and Cael, smiling at each other in the kitchen.

"Wait, is that Y/N? You and Y/n have a son? When did you get back together?" his father asked, forehead furrowed in confusion.

"We're not together yet, Papa. But, we do have a son and today, I finally introduced myself to our son and spent time with him," Carlos explained.

"So you're telling me I have a grandson?" his father asked for confirmation.

"Yes, Papa. His name is Sebastian Cael Sainz. But, please don't tell Mama yet. I want to tell her myself, or maybe even surprise her with Cael," Carlos requested.

"Well, I can't tell her now. She's already asleep," his father replied. Carlos chuckled at this.

"So when can I meet our little Sainz?" his father asked.

Carlos' Wallpaper

AN: I was also sobbing while writing the part where Carlos has to go home. I hope you like this part. Let me know your thoughts or if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo

next part

[everythingne]

christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]

Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.

warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

prev | next

-

You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.

"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.

"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.

"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.

"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.

"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.

"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.

"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.

"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"

"[And how come Danny knows?]"

"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"

"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"

"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"

"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.

"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.

"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."

"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"

"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.

"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.

"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"

"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.

"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.

"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.

"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.

"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."

You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.

--

You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.

"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.

"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."

"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.

"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"

"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."

"Because you're dating?"

"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"

"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.

"I know!" You huff.

Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,

"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."

Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."

Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.

"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."

"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.

"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."

Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.

"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"

"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."

"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."

"We're lucky we were only kissing."

"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.

"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."

"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--

"What?!"

"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."

"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.

"Carlos and Danny know." You say.

"Mhm."

"And... Carlos is your best friend--"

"--Arguably--"

"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."

"Uh-huh."

"...What if we ask them for help?"

"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.

"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.

"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."

"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."

"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."

--

"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.

"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"

"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."

"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."

"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.

"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."

You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."

"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.

"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"

"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.

"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.

"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.

"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."

"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.

"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."

"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."

"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.

"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."

"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.

"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"

The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.

And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.

-

y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴

liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..

y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3

joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT

user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??

maxverstappen: i still don't know who

charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film

charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴

liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...

charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.

user2: get me someone who will do this for me.

danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.

⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes

⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.

⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse

⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no

⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do

⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???

⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??

user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?

ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward

⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.

⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.

⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward

⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!

charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴

charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.

arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.

y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.

maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?

⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow

⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh

landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.

⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.

ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴

y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently

charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature

danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL

⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles

⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(

maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?

⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!

charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy

-

And by god, it starts working.

You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.

"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."

"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.

"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.

"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.

"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."

As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.

"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"

"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.

"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.

"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.

"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.

"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,

"Be more discreet, maybe?"

And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.

Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.

-

and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.

Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.

taglist. thank you!

@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash

[leclercloml]

Enchanted to meet you | CL16

Part 1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Summary: after your relationship almost became very obvious you did a hard launch and obviously because everyone's favourite couple (little plot twist at the end)

Genre: SMAU

warnings: google translated french, grammar mistakes, incorrect time line to match the story line

Author's note; as I said before I'm still new to this and will probably do a part 3 🫶🏻

fc: Gracie Abrams

yourinstagram

📍camp nou

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 56,72,362 others

yourinstagram visca barça and forza ferrari till I die 💙❤️

view comments

carlossainz55 hala madrid 🤍💛💪🏼!

⤷yourinstagram have fun in my block list 😙👋

username mother is a football fan!!

fcbarcelona hope you enjoyed 💙❤️

⤷yourinstagram it's a childhood dream come true, Visca el BARÇA 💙❤️

scuderiaferrari red (y/n version)

⤷yourinstagram the only W you guys taking this year

⤷username lmaaao tell em queen

pablogavi cantante favorito ❤️ (favourite singer)

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landonorris istg I'm tired of yours and Carlos's very own el clasico it's so annoying

⤷yourinstagram ikr it's so annoying like what's the point barca is clearly better

⤷carlossainz55 🧢🧢🧢 14>>5

⤷yourinstagram argue with me when your team wins a treble.

⤷alex_albon what have you done

charles_leclerc

📍 camp nou

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 43,86,529 others

charles_leclerc what a match, força barça 💙❤️

view comments

carlossainz55 the betrayal is insane...

⤷yourinstagram nah he just have ball knowledge

username you all Y/N is literally the biggest barca fan ever

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⤷yourinstagram only a true champion can recognise the another champion 🐐

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⤷username we already have our iconic duo y'all

yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc , lilymhe and 45,265,236 others

yourinstagram soft launch is overrated anyways

view comments

charles_leclerc ma belle fille ❤️💙🧡💚🍀💕

⤷yourinstagram my beautiful boy ❤️🩵🩷

⤷username HELP THE EMOJIS

landonorris there are kids on this app

⤷charles_leclerc yeah...like you.

⤷carlossainz55 Lando go to sleep it's past your bedtime

⤷alex_albon I'm reporting your id only 13+ are allowed on this app

⤷landonorris blocked ALL OF YOU

⤷username this is already soooo fun 😭😭

charles_leclerc I was enchanté to meet you

⤷yourinstagram is it mother tay or danny ric reference?

⤷charles_leclerc whatever helps you sleep at night 😙☝🏼

⤷yourinstagram so mother tay it is.

⤷danielricciardo I'm deeply offended.

⤷yourinstagram you're still my fav tho (after Seb)

⤷danielricciardo okay I'll let it slide this time

username the comments from the drivers are just 😭😭☝🏼☝🏼

charles_leclerc Mon amour, ma vie, mon tout 💙 (my love, my life, my everything)

⤷yourinstagram I don't speak french but je t'aime à la folie (I love you to the moon and back)

⤷username the highway looking extra cozy today

charles_leclerc the girl on second slide single?

⤷yourusername nah she have a boyfriend who snores while he sleeps and burn the pot while cooking his iconic pasta pesto

⤷charles_leclerc I DO NOT SNORE! FALSE INFORMATION.

⤷carlossainz55 you do.

⤷pierregasly you do.

⤷alex_albon you do.

⤷username BAHAHAHA I'M LOVING THIS COUPLE ALREADY.

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram, sabrinacarpenter and 34,562,361 others

charles_leclerc Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close. 🌊💙

view comments

yourinstagram sway me more 🩷

⤷carlossainz55 tf?

⤷yourinstagram it's a lyrics to song estúpido

⤷landonorris what else can you expect from a guy who says "mAriAh cAreY"

⤷carlossainz55 in Spain it's Maria Carey!

⤷username carlos, lando and y/n a trio we didn't know we needed.

⤷username nah because y/n and Lando just bully carlos and it's hilarious 😭

yourinstagram my beautiful beautiful boy ❤️

⤷charles_leclerc yours only 🩷🩷

⤷landonorris you both make me wanna unalive myself

⤷username "unalive" lmaaoo 😭😭

yourinstagram I told the stars about you ☝🏼

⤷charles_leclerc yeah? What did they say?

⤷yourinstagram it's a secret.

lilymhe my girl is so beautiful

⤷yourinstagram my lady is more beautiful

⤷lilymhe nahh you are.

⤷yourinstagram nahh you.

⤷landonorris neither of you is, I am.

⤷username HELP

Username i love them your honour.

yourinstagram just in case you foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you 🩵.

⤷charles_leclerc just in case you foolishly forget; you're all mine and I'm not sharing you (yeah not even to Lily or Kika)

⤷lilymhe am I the only one who smells.... jealousy?

⤷francisca.cgomes me too girl, me too.

⤷username my fav wags uniting.

username IT couple.

Twitter

PS: ahhh I just wanted to make a plot twist 😭 I'll do a part 3 as soon as I can!

part 3!!

Tag: @justdreamersdream

[auggieblogs]

Sweet kisses and pasta ๋࣭ ⭑

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Author's note: Hello, lovelies. I really don't have a lot to say rn, but I hope y'all are doing good:)

P.S.- this one's for @flippingmyshit (again) and I love you Charlie boy muawh

The aroma of pasta sauce simmering on the stove filled the cozy apartment, you were in the kitchen, diligently preparing a delicious pasta dinner because, as everyone knew, Charles Leclerc was many things, but a chef was not one of them.

While you skillfully stirred the pasta, Charles sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through TikTok on his phone. He swiped through videos of funny cats and impressive dance routines and stumbled upon a particularly heartwarming TikTok. His brows furrowed in concentration as he watched a video of a couple playing a sweet prank. A boy asked his girlfriend to smell the collar of his shirt, and as she leaned in to comply, he gently kissed her forehead. Charles couldn't help but smile at the pure innocence of the gesture.

With a mischievous grin on his face, he put his phone aside and quietly made his way to you. You were engrossed in the bubbling pot of pasta sauce. Clearing his throat, he approached you, causing you to turn around with a smile.

Hey, baby," Charles greeted, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You turned to him, a loving smile lighting up your face. "Hi, love. What can I do for you?"

With a playful glint in his eye, Charles leaned a little closer to you and lifted the collar of his shirt. "Smell my shirt, would you?"

You blinked, momentarily confused by his request. But always eager to indulge him, you leaned in, your nose grazing the fabric of his shirt. Before you could process what was happening, Charles pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Charles watched as your expression transformed from shock to pure happiness. Your giggles filled the kitchen, and at that moment, he felt like the luckiest person in the world.

In a spontaneous burst of affection, you tiptoed closer to Charles, your fingers delicately holding his face, and showered him with playful kisses. Each kiss left him feeling lighter, his cheeks blushing in response.

He joined in your laughter, and his heart was so full of love that he could hardly contain it. It was a rare sight to see the Formula 1 star, giggling like a schoolgirl.

As you continued to shower him with kisses, Charles wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I love you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

"I love you too, Charles," you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

Finally, as the laughter and kisses subsided, you and Charles returned to the delicious pasta you were preparing. In that cozy kitchen, with the scent of pasta in the air and the taste of sweet kisses on your lips.

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part four

FERRARI (TAYLOR'S VERSION)

series masterlist

peter parker i'm going to miss you guys

sebastian vettel it's a week break peter. we'll be fine.

peter parker A WEEK IS TOO LONG! I SPENT THE LAST MONTH WITH YOU PEOPLE!

ollie bearman i'm happy to go home. away from peter. sometimes i worry for him.

bianca stark-potts you wouldn’t be the first ollie.

harley keener i bet oscar is happy to get away from peter

peter parker fuck off

tony stark language

bianca stark-potts pipe down steve rogers

charles leclerc i do not understand

harley keener the avengers were on a mission one time and steve accidentally said language when someone cursed.

peter parker I MISS YOU GUYS!

carlos sainz you just left???

tony stark we should spend the next break at seb’s farm

sebastian vettel ABSOLUTELY NOT! i don’t want you heathens on my farm!

charles leclerc aww come on. call it team bonding or something.

carlos sainz i’m sure you know all about that harley keener yeah you would know all about team bonding wouldn’t you?

tony stark what the hell does that mean?

harley keener nothing old man.

carlos sainz don’t worry about it.

peter parker YOU GUYS SHOULD COME TO NEW YORK SOON!!

charles leclerc i'd like to see my family, thank you for the invite though.

bianca stark-potts harley i swear to god you open your fat mouth and carlos will be down a race engineer.

harley keener well maybe someone and someone else shouldn’t have gotten drunk after bahrain and slept with each other.

charles leclerc it was a one time thing!

carlos sainz then what the hell was saudi?

harley keener IT HAPPENED TWICE??

bianca stark-potts three times actually

charles leclerc although that one doesn’t count because nothing happened. we did sleep on the same bed.

harley keener I’M TELLING NAT!

bianca stark-potts AND I’LL TELL EVERYONE YOU STARTED THAT RUMOR ABOUT CLINT LIVING IN THE VENTS!

charles leclerc it won’t happen again, i promise.

carlos sainz okay mr. 'i won't date her friend carlos. i promise.'

harley keener HOMIE HOPPER!!

charles leclerc fuck you keener.

harley keener of course you would want to, you already slept with my friend now you want to sleep with me. charles leclerc OH COME ON! harley keener it's okay, i know it was an inchident charles leclerc honestly just date arthur, you two are perfect for each other. fucking pricks

biancastark-potts has posted new stories

back home, new york how i've missed you.

mr.woofstappen is glad to be back home.

reunited with my favorite person michellejones

someone teach these boomers how to pose for pictures

AUSTRALIA 2024

scuderiaferrari posted new stories

quali day (carlos' version)

quali day (charles' version)

AND THAT'S ANOTHER POLE POSITION FOR CHARLES LECLERC HERE IN AUSTRALIA!!

THAT'S P1 AND P3 FOR OUR BOYS FOR QUALI!

taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! peter parker is a swiftie, you cannot convince me otherwise. let's get ready for whatever shitshow las vegas is going to be (i say this as an american. at least i live on the west coast so the schedule isn't as bad for me as it is for others. same time zone as vegas baby!!!)

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

[sssilverstoned]

sympathy for the devil ꩜ cl16

type: fluff? besties to lovers? let's say that. a friend is done dirty but is she really a friend? debatable. flashbacks, angst-ish (a guilty conscience is always a great outfit addition, no?)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: language, suggestive but no smut (finger sucking. i was in a mood,) charles is a reformed cheater, so let's say some moral ambiguity all around

lily said: hello hello! welcome to the inner workings of my hyper fixation on summer romances and a couple of bestieeeees who should just be a couple. now that this guy is out the way, i'd love to formally open requests! a drabble, fic, oneshot, hit my line ! we can get into the details of who i do and don't write for later <3

You are not a terrible person. You're not even a bad person, truly. It's something you repeat to yourself like a mantra as you look away from Charles's side profile across the long table.

He's looking like summertime, soft like an afternoon nap, but sharp like a stinging on your skin from too many 5 more minutes called from the patio. His neck is elongated slightly, trying to hear Joris's story over Mirabel's loud laughter. When he leans like that, you can see a peak of the remnants of the hickey you sucked into his pale skin the evening before. Your stomach hurts.

Charles's own nose is red, he's scrunching it on occasion like no one will notice his discomfort, and his necessity for aloe vera. You've packed it in your bag because you know he wouldn't have. He knows to ask you for it later.

You excuse yourself from the long table, your dinner in front of you looking great, but you were nowhere near hungry. When you push your chair back to stand, it makes a low noise against the floor of the garden, and his head whips to you immediately.

It was your friend group's traditional holiday you were gathered for, an annual week at Mirabel's family home right on the water. 4 girls and 5 boys, room assignments remaining relatively static throughout the years. There was that one year Clara and Sammy shared a room, but, as both of them would easily say, it wouldn't be happening again.

"Everything okay, y/n/n?" Peter asks from your diagonal, which makes more heads turn to your now standing figure. You let out an uncomfortable huff, disguised as a laugh. Charles can read you like his favorite book.

Your linen dress clings to your body, yet flows off you effortlessly. He remembers seeing it on a hook in your room, wondering how it would look on your figure when he pretended to not watch you change tops. Reality was always better than fantasy, this he knew for certain.

"I'm alright, just chilly. Want to grab my sweater."

"I'll go with you, want to charge my phone anyway," Emma smiles up at you from her seat, standing up as well.

Charles follows your figure with your eyes until you disappear into Mirabel's villa, then continues to pretend to be listening to whatever Peter has begun rambling about.

"Did you see the way he and Oliver left the pantry in disarray this morning?" Emma's practically hissing her disdain, her shorter legs pumping overtime to catch your gait. You were hoping she couldn't.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Charles," she gags. "Tried to cook breakfast, and of course it was shit. Can't believe you didn't know."

You did, you helped him clean it up.

"I feel like it's quite hard to burn oatmeal," you snort, scrubbing the pot.

"Too much sugar in the pot, I suppose. That's how you make yours, yes? With brown sugar?"

You look back at him from where he was leaning against the counter, watching you help him fix his mess. Oliver had cleaned up the spilled flour on the floor of the pantry, then ran out to get pastries from a bakery before the rest of the villa woke up and threatened his life.

"Surprised you remember how I like my breakfast," you say.

"Why?" he asks, cocking his head. "I know a lot about you."

You click your tongue, suddenly shy under his intentional gaze. Your focus is back on the pot, and a stubborn clump of congealed oats. Charles peers around the kitchen quickly, before coming up behind you, a large hand circling your waist.

"How did you sleep? I realize I didn't ever ask," He drops a kiss to the crown of your head when he finishes speaking, and your breath hitches. Not with love or affection, but with a strike of fear, almost. It was an open air kitchen, and while everyone seemed to be sleeping in, you never really could know who may be stirring about.

"Slept fine. Kept the windows open," you shared a room with Clara on these trips, you two were always the closest of the girls growing up and never minded sharing. She didn't say anything when you came in at 2 am with mussed hair and swollen lips, and you were grateful for it.

"You could have stayed, Joris didn't come in until late."

You finally bristle, dropping the pot onto the drying rack. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

You turn in his grasp, eyebrows frayed in the middle of your face. He hates when you look at him like this. "Y/n, we're not children anymore. We're two consenting adults."

"Emma will hate me."

"And is that worth your happiness? Whether or not your friend, who you aren't that close to, by the way, is mad at you?"

"You cheated on her, Charles."

You clear your throat as you blink away the memory. Emma scoffs again at the thought of Charles. "He even had the gall to come out on the patio at the same time as me this afternoon."

"Everyone was on the patio, Emma," you level, already getting irritated with her tone. She irritated you often, Charles wasn't necessarily wrong about your lack of proximity to her. She was always a bit bratty, but had too much history with the group to be left behind, no matter how much she seemed to irk everyone. "You can't expect him to walk on eggshells around you, he's still a part of the group."

Emma stops walking, but you keep pace. "Are you defending a cheater, y/n?" You're glad you didn't stop.

Your eye twitches, and you're glad that she can't see it. This conversation was draining you, yet it's barely started, and already, it's over. She did this nearly every time they were in the same vicinity, and it was getting old. Or maybe, it was the guilt that you were fucking her ex-boyfriend.

It was a mistake that they dated in the first place. He had just broken up with his long term girlfirend, someone you all never seemed to get along with, and Emma's eyes were always slightly googly for the boy. Her attention was more palpable, and better received, than the rest. So they began to fool around, began to hold hands a bit more at group dinners. You heard her say 'boyfriend' much more than he did, though.

The cheating was a bit egregious, even for Charles. For the sake of everyone's friendships, his romance with her was kept under wraps, the superiority of a professional PR team apparent over gossip columns and nosy fans. It was the nosy fans, unfortunately, that had found Charles in a club somewhere in Italy with his tongue down some model's throat.

She cried, shouted, did everything but rip her own hair out at the photos that surfaced. Perhaps it hurt her most that people were excited to see Charles with the woman, finally seen with someone that wasn't an engineer or Vasseur. They didn't know about her, and frankly, they never would. She was never terribly important to Charles, everyone knew that, and now she did too.

The group had moved on, sans Emma. No one really made fusses about it in the first place, their relationship running its course over only about 3 months. The boys saw it coming and, well, the girls had warned her. A rebound was always obvious to those watching.

The worst part, the part that made you feel so ill all the time, is Charles wanted to be yours, and you wanted to be anywhere but the villa.

You grab your sweater off of the chair at the vanity mirror in your room, bristling at the chill coming from the open window you had left during the night, and now day. You hear the laughter of your friends, of Peter shouting over Oliver, and Charles laughing from his belly. You hate that you can tell his laughter from the rest.

When you sit back down at the table, Clara waits for you to scoot your chair back in and place the napkin in your lap. "You lost her inside, eh?"

You crack a smile, Clara was your most blunt, and funniest, friend. "Had to, lest I hear about Charles's trespasses again."

Clara chuckles into her wine glass. "If only she knew."

In a lowered voice, you turn closer to her. "I think she may actually lose her mind if she found out, Clara."

She rolls her eyes. "Find out what? That you two are obsessed with each other, yet you won't take him seriously? That she was collateral? Shit happens."

"That's not what this is."

"Please. He'd marry you tomorrow if given the opportunity, y/n. Deep down, she knows that was never her anyway."

When you look back up at Charles, he's already looking at you, looking so endearing that you have to look back down at your chicken and roasted vegetables. You're still not hungry.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

It happened quickly, but the buildup seemed to make it inevitable. You were always a friend of the leclercs, your mother's growing an affinity for each other when you were quite young. You grew up alongside the boys, Charles always having a soft spot for you in particular. Charles escorted you every time your father hosted a gala, and voluntarily was your designated driver on nights out. One in particular, 6 months ago, sealed fates.

"Charlie, just take one shot."

"If I take a shot, I won't be driving," he laughs at you, looking at you with little twinkles in his eyes. He and Emma had just finally broken up, the past 3 months couldn't be categorized as anything but odd. After they had notified the group, in their own respective ways, you had seemed to have gotten your fun loving, a tad awkward, but always down for what you were plotting, Charlie back. He had agreed in a heartbeat to meet you and Clara at the club. It makes you grin.

"That's fine, uber exists. Have fun for once, please?" You pout, tequila speaking for you. Everything was already a bit hazy, much funnier than normal, and less serious.

"Yeah, come on Chaaaarlie," Clara giggles knowingly. He'd do anything if you asked for it, this was a fact.

With a shake of his head and faked disdain, he downs the shot, hears your cheers, and suddenly, one shot is seven and you're both screaming the lyrics to an old Fergie song that blasts through the speakers.

Heels were a bad, but stunning, idea. You felt cute and confident, but by the time you had stopped dancing like a mad person to get a drink of water, the balls of your feet began to throb.

"Please don't take your shoes off in this place," Charles begs.

"Don't be my father," you frown. "My feet hurt."

"Your feelings will be what's hurting when someone steals these off the section couch," he points to your feet, and there was a touch of validity. They were Jimmy Choos, after all, and cost more than you could comprehend. Charles often went overboard on your birthday gifts.

"I'll take that risk."

"I'll hold them."

"You won't," you say with a laugh, used to his dramatics. But he shocks you, gingerly picking them off the couch and holding them on his index and middle finger.

"Charlie, put my shoes down."

"I will do no such thing."

Somehow, somewhere between promising Clara you'd text her when the uber dropped you and Charles off at his place, helping him get the key into the lock of his door, and sitting on his kitchen island, Charles finds himself in between your legs, staring into your eyes that had glitter and mascara surrounding them.

It wasn't normal of "best friends" to be around each other like this. He knew that. He hadn't wanted to be just your best friend in a while though, but having you in that capacity was better than nothing at all. Especially when he had seemingly bounced from one girlfriend to the other, and deep down, he knew it was because he was bored. They weren't you, no matter how much imitation was attempted. Perhaps the only person who was aloof to his truest desires, was you.

"You looked very pretty tonight, y/n/n."

"You looked dashing yourself," you wink, "the girls in there told you that though, no?"

He rolls his eyes. "That wasn't anything. Just fans, same shit as usual."

"You usually are being hit on by pretty girls, is what you're saying?" You continue to tease. Charles can't stand your smart mouth sometimes, especially how much he can't help but love it.

"To be fair, I don't really notice. I'm always looking at you, anyway."

You don't have a response for that. He's never said it outright, never crossing the line. But now he has, and there's no going back.

"Charles, you just broke up with Emma."

"I know,"

"You cheated on her."

"I know,"

"I'm your best friend."

His turn to grin. "I know."

In a fashion completely unlike you, throwing caution to the wind felt like the only option, pulling him in with your legs, locking around the back of his waist, lips pressed onto his, hair between your fingers. He tastes like tequila and mint gum, like the things you regret yet adore. He wonders if this means the same to you as it means to him.

When you wake up in his bed, makeup removed and your favorite shirt of his draped over your body, you inhale deeply when you feel the familiar soreness stretching through your lower half, and the weight of his arm roped around your body. Now that you've gotten your taste, you weren't giving it up.

"Did you pack the aloe vera?" You hear him from your doorway, blinking back from yet another memory.

"'S in the bathroom, look in the blue toiletry bag," you call, not looking away from where you were taking your hooped earrings out in the mirror. It was a domestic encounter in a way, like a scene taken out of context 20 years from now. Maybe one day, you'd be on holiday with a family of your own, enjoying silence once your kids were asleep after playing in the water all day. Maybe you'd be actually sharing a room, instead of whatever the fuck this was.

"You seemed off at dinner, everything okay?" Charles asks, rubbing the gel on his soon-to-be-peeling nose.

"Fine," you shrug, turning back to look at him, and not just his reflection. "Just wasn't so hungry. And cold, like I said."

He chuckles a little to himself. "I could tell," he nods with his head down to your chest. Your nipples had pearled, and supposedly, had been pearled, and were obvious through the thin fabric of your fitting dress.

"Jesus Charles," you berate, turning back to your mirror. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm a man," he corrects. "Who's seen what's under that dress and thinks it's a great sight. But I also like your mind and your personality and all that, of course." Idiot. He sits on your bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard as he watches you get ready for bed. Domesticity. "Will you be going back to Monaco after this?"

"No, visiting Clara's family in the states for a little."

He makes a discontent noise. "How long?"

"A week," you answer. "Miami."

"Fun, going to go out?"

"What is it to you?" You ask, half jokingly, half alerted by his series of questions.

He shrugs this time. "Care about you, want to know what your plans are. Is it a crime?"

"No, just makes me fear you're in love with me."

"I'm on my way to that, I tell you that all the time. And you make jokes because you know it's true."

You stand up from the vanity, looking at him with an expression that makes his heart hurt. It's that wounded puppy look, the way you used to look at Arthur when Charles would tell him to fuck off from trying to hang out with the two of you as teenagers.

"I don't really know what to say when you say those things." He stands up from your bed, meeting you where you stand in the middle of you and Clara's room. He still smells just like all your favorite aspects of summer, and that tired look in his eyes from a day of relaxation and release melts you. "I know I'm in my head."

"'S a good head to be in." He moves the strans of your hair that were falling over your forehead behind your ear, smoothing his fingers over your jawline until his fingers lift your chin. "That's better. Couldn't see your face."

"What is this, Charlie?" Your eyes search his, and he hates how scared you look. "Like, seriously. We, we fuck, we sleep in the same bed more than we don't."

"We always have done that, you've shared with Enzo and Arthur before too I'm sure."

"Don't be dense."

"I think that's just how I am, mon amour."

"Such a shithead," you mutter with a huff, annoyed with his smug expression. "I'm being serious. If sex is just what you want, or need, right now, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"It's much more than that to me, don't insult me," He no longer has a grin on his face, mouth turned much more stoic. "My actions precede me, yes," you withold commentary on that, "but I'd never do anything to hurt you, y/n/n. I care about you, think about you all the time, want you wherever I am, always."

A part of you thinks this is what you've always wanted to hear. A gorgeous, successful, personable man who you've grown to trust infallibly your whole life is 5 feet short of professing his love for you, and yet, you can't let yourself fully be happy. Because for the last 6 months, you've ducked and dodged your own friends, not wanting them to know about the two of you. He did cheat, for crying out loud. On someone you have baby photos with. No matter how annoying, or selfish, she comes off, Emma wasn't going anywhere in your life. And you'd be devastated if she did this to you, so he remained your dirty little secret.

"Am I interrupting?" Clara says teasingly from the doorway, a wine glass still in her hands. "Sorry, Mirabel wanted me to check on you."

You clear your throat and step away from Charles. "Not at all. Charlie's got a sun burn."

"Ah. You are pale," Clara notes. "Figures."

"Thanks, Clar."

"Still drinking?" You nod toward her glass. "Pour me one, will you?"

"Sure will." She turns, and you make to follow.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, I think."

"Y/n,"

"Not right now," you say firmly, "please?"

And you've got that withered look, that look that screams exhaustion. Guilt's gonna kill him one day, he's sure.

"Fine."

And with that, you head out the door, leaving Charles in your room, regretting not telling you how he felt about you when his girlfriend told him to. Before Emma took that mantle instead, and before you started looking at him like it was hard to do so.

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Sammy brings it up first, but the entirety of the day was the beginning of the end of secrecy.

The next day had been decided as a boat day, everyone prepared for another long day in the sun, this time on the open waves. The girls had all gone below deck, in search of champagne and a bottle opener, and Sammy and Charles were far enough from Oliver, Joris, and Peter for them to hear a conversation.

"I've got a question I think," Sammy asks. He makes an affirmative noise, head leaned back against the cushions of the lounger, sunglasses sliding down his still peeling nose. "Are you and y/n hooking up?"

Charles immeditely looks up at Sammy, mouth open in a scramble for the most believable way to say no. "No, ah, why would you say that?" oh dear.

"Mate," Sammy winces.

"Fuck me," Charles yanks the glasses off and wipes both hands over his face. He keeps them there when he asks, "how?"

"Leaving hickeys is one thing, her jewelry on your bedside table is another." The central heating unit for their floor was in Joris and Charles's room, Sammy did go to adjust it yesterday morning. Fuck. "Does Emma know?"

"No," Charles says quickly. "No. Y/n doesn't want anyone to."

Sammy quirks his mouth to the side. "Well, are you dating?"

"No,"

"Ah." Sammy looks out on the water, stewing over this confirmed theory of his. You all suddenly appear from inside, cheering with a bottle clutched in Emma's hand, you with the opener. When he looks back at Charles, he sees that even though all four of you stand there he's looking at you. This must be sympathy for the devil, Sammy thinks, because why else is he feeling bad for someone whose problem was multiple attractive women had feelings for him?

"Charlie, can you help?" you pout, unable to get the cork loose from the bottle. It was obvious you were tipsy, drunk even, you all had been drinking since the sun came up.

"Fucks sake y/n, use your arm!" Clara groans. Sammy looks back at Charles, willing him with his brain to not be at your beck and call for once.

"I've got it," Charles chuckles, like an idiot, if you ask Sammy. He pops it, a cheer coming from the group at the appearance of bubbles and spray. It gets all over his hands as he attempts to hold the bottle away from his body, and he shakes the excess off as the cheers continue. Oliver whisks the bottle away to be divied up between everyone's cups, and Charles goes inside to wash his hands off. You slink off behind him, unbeknownst to him, or the rest of your friends, except for Emma, whose interest is piqued by your sudden absences.

"Thanks for the help," your voice is sweet in the silence of the kitchenette.

His head whips to your figure, slightly startled by your presence. You're barefoot, a brown bikini only covering what's absolutely necessary to be covered. He can't tell if he loves it or he hates it. Your open button up shirt tossed on as a cover up intrigues him, because, is that his?

"Is that my shirt?" Charles repeats, out loud this time, eyes trained like heat seekers as you move close. His hands lay in the towel, champagne still dripping off his fingers. You've seemed to have distracted his process.

"No, but it seems like you would love it if it was."

He raises his shoulders. "You're welcome to them."

You hum, "good to know." You're looking at him like prey, it makes his throat dry and he's not sure what to say. You're always the bubbly one, the sunshine when he's being grumpy and difficult.

Charles lifts his hands from the towel that he still hasn't utilized yet, pushing his luck by placing a hand on your hip. He plays with the string on your right hip, fingers begging to untie the bow. "You only like talking to me when we're in kitchens, huh?"

He makes you laugh with that, or maybe it's the alchohol making you do it. "I always like talking to you. It's you that can't keep hands to yourself."

A hand slides up his chest, resting casually, yet his heart races faster. That familiar, warm feeling settles in his lower stomach, and he wills himself not to harden like a teenager. "We both have a problem with hands, I see."

You tilt your head in challenge. You pull his hand off of your hip and lift it, analyzing the digits still drenched in champagne. And to his utter surprise, you take his index finger into your mouth. The eye contact you hold as you do so has his mouth dropping open slightly in a daze, mind going to static as he feels the warmth and wetness, the pucker of your lips. You hum as you release his finger with a pop, licking your lips.

"Don't think I have a problem with your hands at all, Charles."

Charles, not Charlie. He's ruined.

How you saunter away after that leaves him gobsmacked, flustered, and most of all, hoping this boat would be docking soon.

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"I have an offer for you," is how you start the conversation. You're all showered, evening attire thrown on and awaiting the metaphorical dinner bell. The two of you plus Peter were sat out on the patio, and were left alone when Peter ran in to the bathroom for a moment.

"When I come back home, we should go on date."

Charles thinks he mishears you. "What?"

"A date, Charlie. You know, when two people who share a romantic interest go out toge-"

"Enough, smartass," He stops your condescension. "You would go on one with me?"

You take a deep breath. "Yeah, I would. I like you, and all that."

"And all that," he repeats. "What every man wants to hear."

"Do you want to go on the date or not?"

"I do, I really do. Have wanted to for a while, you know."

You smile softly, resting your head on the lounger. "I know."

"Dinner's ready," Emma comes out to announce. When she sees it's only the two of you, her expression changes slightly, something only you'd notice after years of experiencing emotions from her. "Where's Peter?"

"Bathroom," you answer easily. Emma looks at the two of you intently, and Charles turns towards the water, not really interested in making conversation with the woman who's profusely stated her aversion to him.

"Hm. Well, come down soon."

When she closes the glass doors, Charles all but laughs out loud. "What a nightmare."

"Your ex," you rebut, "can't believe that to this day. If you didn't like her, why'd you do it?"

"Because I didn't think I could have you."

His veins fill with regret when he says it, he knows its not fair. But it's true, you know it as well. "Well, no more collateral damage, then." You stand up from the lounger, brushing down your dress. "Pick a good restaurant for the date."

Dinner begins well, Mirabel telling stories and Oliver denying them all. It's when the laughter dies down after Joris recounts their last trip to Nice that things begin to slant.

"Y/n/n," Emma calls from down the table. You turn to her, as everyone does.

"Yeah, Em?"

"I just have been dying to know," she starts, clasping her hands under her chin. "How long have you and Charles been fucking?"

Peter chokes on his wine. The table is utterly silent, and everyone's face carries the same shocked expression. And, wow, you've pictured this moment dozens of ways and hundreds of times, but honestly, this one was rare form. But after everything, especially today, caution was once again to the wind.

"About 6 months," you calmly answer, reaching for your glass. "Give or take."

"You bitch," she hisses. "Are you not even ashamed of yourself?"

"Are you not going to address Charles in the slightest, or is it just y/n's fault that they have sex?" Clara asks, and Mirabel and Oliver can't help the snicker in their chests. Sammy takes another piece of salmon from the middle platter.

"Yes, I could have said something," you mull.

Emma looks around, utter disbelief on her face as it seems everyone's refusing to intervene on this one. You can't blame them, and those who did know, well, their wine glasses are filled.

Emma gets up from the table with a curse of Charles's name and a disgusted look your way, and Clara clears her throat.

"So, anyone have any recommendations for clubs in Miami?"

[dearheartdont]

Fic snippet, Charles backstory : "At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham to visit relatives, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware."

Note: Canon-typical mentions of abuse. Use of a racial term now understood as offensive.

Charles’ mum never tried to leave his dad. Not when he smashed her Ashe Bhosle records. Not when his dad used a belt on Charles for the first time. Not even when a neighbour called the police after hearing an argument through the walls (is it an argument if there’s only one voice shouting? His mum had learned to hold her tongue and at thirteen Charles knew how to brace for a blow). The WPC turned up at the door the day after, asked Charles’ mother questions in an even voice, and left alone after finishing the tea his Mum served on their best bone china.

But at least twice a year she and Charles packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.

---

His auntie’s home in Birmingham was packed and lively. His auntie, uncle and his two cousins, Priti and Hari, all in an end of terrace house. There was a constant hum of noise there– Hari playing ska records on his record player from his bedroom; the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen where his mum and auntie would congregate; the stamp of Priti’s feet up and down the stairs as she rushed around getting ready to meet friends.

His mother had a voice in her sister’s house. Charles woke to the sound of her and his auntie talking each morning. She called Charles beta here. At home he only remembers her calling him that once. Charles had been very small and full of chicken pox. His mum had sat on the floor next to his bed to stop him scratching, her hand smoothing though his sweat-soaked hair. She’d sang to Charles to lull him to sleep. In Birmingham, she sang every day.

---

When Charles grew enough not to be a complete liability on the cricket pitch, Hari took him along to play with his friends.

“I’ve got a friend like you who’ll be there. Aidan,” Hari said as they cut through the back streets to the playing fields.

Aidan wasn’t like Charles in appearance or manner. He was broad chested, with dark, tightly curled hair that showed a reddish tint when the sun hit it. He cuffed his trousers like Hari did, and his Docs were brightly shined. His short-sleeved shirt was a maroon and white check, his braces thin and black. He looked sharp. He wasn’t like Charles at all, except that he was half-caste too.

“Jamaican dad, Irish mum,” Aidan said, offhand, when they were introduced. “Saves you asking later. Hari always get it the wrong way round.”

“Indian mum, English dad.” Charles replied, and then tagged on, “I’m Charles.” Aidan smiled then, like they’d just shared a joke.

“He can be on my team,” Aidan told Hari, and grabbed Charles’ shoulder to guide him to where there was a gap in the team’s fielding cover.

As Hari walked over to the other team by the stumps he shouted, “Don’t show me up,” to Charles’ back.

“He says that like he’s any cop himself,” Aidan muttered into Charles’ ear, and told him the story of Hari falling into the wicket just the week before.

At the end of that week Charles left with a ska mixtape from Aidan, and two Fred Perry polos that Hari had outgrown.

---

At 15, his older cousin, Priti, snuck Charles out with her to a daytimer.

In the queue, Priti swiped and smudged kohl under Charles’ eyes. “Gotta hide that baby face,” she said and pinched his cheeks. She made him promise, yet again, that he’d keep his gob shut about the daytimer from his mum, her parents and most especially Hari. “He’s such a grass,” Priti said. He could already hear the hum of music leaking out from inside the converted warehouse.

He let out a huff of breath when they got past the bouncer and the ticket table, and Priti laughed. “If your parents could see you, such a naughty boy!”

Priti’s friends ran to meet her and pulled her onto the dancefloor to dance in a swirl of long hair and fruity body mist. Charles waved off their beckoning hands and watched the dancefloor heave with bodies. The music was a strange mix of familiar and unfamiliar: bouncing synths with Indian strings overlaid, all underpinned by the shifting rhythms of dhol drums. The vocals singing over the top sounded joyful and yearning by turns.

By the end of the afternoon, Charles had joined Priti and her friends on the dancefloor where they taught him dance moves, taking the piss at every misstep he made, but cheering him on when a girl asked him to dance with her.

When Charles broke away to visit the loos he looked at himself in the mirror. His curly hair was frizzy with sweat, his eyes dark with the smudged kohl. He looked different. He didn’t look tougher, or more like his cousins. But maybe, sweaty and happy with his eyes traced in eyeliner, he looked more like himself.

On the way home, Priti sent Charles into the chippy with a fiver while she changed and scrubbed off her make up in the public toilets. They unwrapped the newspaper when she finally emerged and walked slowly back to the house, eating. The vinegar the chips were doused in stung Charles’ sinuses. At the top of the street, Priti stopped and rubbed a screwed-up hanky across Charles’ cheek. “I’m not explaining how you got that lipstick on you,” she said.

She left the kohl alone.

---

Charles says the food he misses is spaghetti. But sometimes he thinks about the smell of vinegar rising from fish and chips and being fed dhal on a roti by kind hands.

---

(Notes: I chose Birmingham as the home of Charles’ relatives as it’s a multicultural city with an established East Asian population. It was also a hub for the English ska scene.

Ashe Bhosle – famous playback singer for Bollywood movies.

WPC – woman police constable

Daytimer – a rave that played bhangra music. Held during the daytime so that British South Asian kids could go without parental knowledge.)

[birdiewriteslit]

“are you jealous?” “jealous? can’t be.” with Charlie Weasley maybe if you are like really close friends with the twins because you were school friends 👀💕

yessss omg i love charlie!!

This is not where you saw yourself when you graduated. That was nearly six years ago. You love the Weasley twins dearly, but the joke shop was probably one of your least favorite places in the world right now.

The twins had managed to make you agree to helping them out in the shop on your holiday from work. It made you wish you were back in Romania, and it had you longing for where you were supposed to be, with Charlie, relaxing at home.

Being friends with the twins at Hogwarts (and in the same year) had caused your current predicament. You had to thank them, though, for they were also the reason you met your boyfriend.

Charlie was four years older than you, and you always had a crush on him. He was head boy and Griffyndor’s seeker. He was immensely charming and dripping with charisma.

When he left Hogwarts, you were forced to give up on your dreams of being with him. That was until you ended up on the same reserve as him a few years after graduation. The rest was history.

You were currently moping at your station outside of the store, unenthusiastically selling some sort of bewitched toffee.

“Y/n, your energy is a little low for my liking,” Fred said, poking his head through the door to the shop.

“Sorry, I’ll do better,” you said heartlessly, forcing a smile.

“Missing Charles too much?” he teased.

“Yeah, actually,” you confessed.

Fred looked sympathetic, and a little guilty. He took the box of toffees from your hands. “Go home, Y/n. These aren’t very good anyways. George and I can take it from here.”

You smiled at him, feeling grateful for his understanding nature. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Good, because I’m not coming back.” You disapparated before he could respond.

Appearing at the door of your flat, you turned the key and walked inside, relieved to be greeted by the smell of dinner on the stove.

“Charlie?” you called, taking off your shoes and shrugging off your coat. He didn’t answer, but you found him in the kitchen, concentrating on the pot he was stirring.

“How was your shift?” he said shortly.

You shrugged. “It was fine. How was your day?”

“Fine,” he said, not looking up.

You furrowed your brows. “Is something wrong?” you asked, brushing some of his fiery hair out of his eyes.

“No, nothing. You’ve been spending a lot of time with my brothers since we got back,” he observed coldly.

You suppressed a smirk. You should’ve known. Charlie had fallen victim to envy many times, and Fred and George had been the accused before.

You poked his arm. “Charlie, are you jealous?”

“Jealous? Can’t be,” he said, still not taking his eyes off of the pot.

“Charlie,” you said teasingly, moving to wrap your arms around his waist from behind. He tensed a little before relaxing into your touch. “You can be honest with me.”

You were sure that he wanted to, but he was stubborn and still wouldn’t let up.

“I was thinking about you all day,” you whispered into his ear, which had gone pink. You trailed your fingers down to his waistband, which made him finally turn to face you.

“Merlin, you minx,” he murmured. “It’s just- we get one break from the reserve, and the twins have you doing work for them. I want you all to myself. Is that too much to ask?” he admitted.

Your arms still around him, you pressed a hand into his back and brought yourself closer. “I’ll be yours for the rest of the week, I promise.”

Charlie grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.” He dipped down to kiss your lips. You responded enthusiastically, as if you hadn’t seen him for days. It had only been hours.

You were looking forward to the rest of this week.

[russellsppttemplates]

It helps mama too (Charles Leclerc)

Charles read a few pregnancy books so that he could help you as much as possible and he has some tricks up his sleeve

Note: english is not my first language. There's this commercial that I've seen a few times and I always get all gooey inside and there is some scientific explanation behind it from what I remember reading so I'm basing this on it and taking it as a thing

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so but know that I'm not certain when I'll be able to tend to them!

Tw: postpartum, breastfeeding issues, baby getting vaccines

When you and Charles welcomed Hervé into the world, it was such a blissful moment that you wanted to keep it in a little pot so you could carry it with you everyday for the rest of your life. Charles had been nothing but supportive all throughout, making sure you got enough rest and doing the chores around the house, scrunching his nose when someone commented how kind and helpful he was being and replying "I'm his father, he is my son too and I am behaving like the parent that I am". But unfortunately there were things he couldn't do for you, breastfeeding being one of them. Sure, he could just feed him from the bottle but that implied that you'd have to pump beforehand and it was something you had to think in advance, hence the whole situation needing a bit of time for you to settle it into your routine, "these always makes the weirdest noises, I swear", you pointed to the pumps attached to your nipples, collecting the rest of the milk so you could have it for times in the future where you couldn't feed your little boy straight from the boob. Charles chuckled, one of his arms holding his son while we went to the kitchen to refill your water bottle, "thank you, mon coeur", you said as he sat next to you, you two admiring how the baby slept soundly in his papa's chest, "Do they still hurt?", Charles asked.

Breastfeeding was a whole experience in itself, starting with the chafed skin from the constant suckling and the pains that came with it, especially the night your milk came in. You'd never felt pain like it before, waking up in the middle of the night to change and feed Hervé when Charles pointed out that you felt way too warm, your body temperature rising to accommodate the milk that had come into your boobs that were engorged and rock hard, making any movement painful for you. Charles had changed his son and carefully helped you into a sitting position, placing his son by your arms so you could feed him, remembering how the book he had read recommended to feed and/or extract the milk. He was there, your back against his naked chest while he ran his fingers along your arm, whispering words of encouragement like 'you're a superwoman, you can do anything', 'you're amazing, mon coeur', 'just a little bit more and he will be full, and then I'll take care of you' in the middle of all the kisses he pressed on your shoulder, noticing how Hervé was calming down after you burped him while your husband looked at the instructions on the pump he was setting up to help drain your boobs. It was one of the first intense nights filled with tears on your part and Charles showing you how much of a good partner he was, your love for eachother intensifying like you never thought it could.

"Not so much now, I think I'm used to it by now. And the skin has healed with the cream we got from the midwife", you said, pointing to the lanolin cream you applied throughout the day to help the sensitive skin get better, "Can I put it on?", Charles asked cheekily once he was able to get Hervé down on the bassinet next to you on the bed so you could have easier access to him. Chuckling at his request, you grabbed his hand when he sat in front of you, "I always let you do it, why wouldn't I let you now?", you smiled as you checked that there was no more milk to be expressed, switching off the pump and taking your time to carefully fill the bags so you could freeze them for later, "I don't know. It's your body, and although I like showing you how much I appreciate it, there's the possibility that you don't want me to, or that I might hurt you and I don't want that", he said as your heart fluttered, his sensible and loving side never failing to come up. Charles made it his mission to make sure you felt no rush in getting back to what you looked like before pregnancy, ensuring you that he welcomed every change on the body that generated his son and showing every bit of gratefulness for it and for you everytime he could. Checking the seal in the bags, you put them in the usual place for the night in case you needed them before grabbing the pot of cream, "Like I'd ever say no to you, mon coeur", you smiled as you offered it to the driver.

.

Hervé had a tough day today, not settling anywhere but your chest after you and Charles had taken him to get his vaccines, "it's alright, mon petit, mama is here", Charles heard you say from the living room when you had put Hervé down so you could use the toilet, enjoying how cuddly he was, his hand grabbing your top in a fist, "it's okay, it means it's working", Charles coming to your side after putting the tray in the oven to finish cooking, explaining to the little boy who looked at him in endearment before his eyes started getting droopy again. Putting his hand on his neck, Charles sighed in relief, "at least he is not feverish, it's probably just crankyness. Aren't you, little monkey? The doctor prickled you thigh and you did not like it one bit", he said as he watched the sad smile on your face as your hand ran over the soft brown hairs on your son's head, pressing little kisses on there too.

After you had dinner, Charles suggested you to go and have a relaxing shower whilst himself and Hervé had a papa and son talk, bringing him to his trophy and helmet room, "and this one I shared the podium with Max and Lewis, it was a really great day. Mama was there, grandma Pascale was there too and we all celebrated and this helmet here", he grabbed one of his F2 racing helmets, "was the one I was wearing when I knew your mama and I were going to be together forever, I did not win the race but she was there, standing proud like I had just won it", he kissed his head, smelling his scent in delight, "mama loves us both so much, you'll see in time that she is very stubborn but that also means that she loves extra hard too", he said as he walked around a little bit more, the baby starting to get fussier as he walked into the bedroom, ready to grab a bottle and heating it up so he could feed him while you finished in the bathroom.

You had put on your pyjamas and had just finished blowdrying your hair a bit so it wouldn't soak your pillow case, opening to see Charles bouncing Hervé around the room in hopes he would fall asleep, "it's going to be a tough night, isn't it?", you soflty asked, not wanting to disturb too much, Charles looking at you as he smiled soflty, "I think I've got it", he whispered back as he waited for Hervé to succumb to deep sleep before he could put him in his bassinet. Once he had done that, Charles grabbed the doctor approved body lotion you would sometimes use on your skin, asking you to lower the straps of your sleeping dress so he could massage it into your skin, taking the time to make some light conversation as you hummed at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

You weren't wrong when you predicted the night would be tough, Hervé waking up nearly every hour and taking a lot longer than usual to fall asleep, you and Charles wanting to take turns but ending up staying awake for eachother's turns so you could help as much as possible, and when morning came around, the only way Hervé seemed to relax was if you were walking around the house with him latched on your torso, "The only way that I am not cursing right now is because one day he'll be a big boy and I'll miss these cuddles", you said honestly as Charles followed you around in sympathy before an idea popped in his head, "I'll be right back", he said as he headed upstairs, "your papa, you'll learn, has many of these moments where he gets an idea and then just vanishes, it needs some getting used to but we love him all the same, even if he seems a little like a crazy person", you said as you chuckled.

In your room, Charles smelled every body cream you had before finally finding the one that you had applied the previous day, the strong scent his lead as he grabbed the pot and went back downstairs, seeing you in your umpteenth lap of the living room as he started rubbing the cream on his chest before he stretched his arms, your skeptical expression not going unnoticed at his attempt of getting your son to settle in his chest, Hervé shuffling slightly before he settled in, his hand grabbing the open shirt your husband was wearing before he released a sigh, happy and content in your his papa's cuddle while Charles kissed the top of his head. Astounded by the moment, Charles decided to rub it in, "I remember reading about it, how they recognise the scent so they feel comfortable, and while I get some snuggles it helps mama get some free arms time, too", he winked (miserably) at you and all you could do was press a kiss to both of your boys, excited at the prospect of having two hands available to eat your breakfast and drink your much needed coffee.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ v

part four - part six

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ you're just as bad if not worse because maybe after all it was just in your head

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ 😈 - bob is lando ;) || google translate is my best friend

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 534,788 others

y/nusername ⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

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Hannahh have a great off season you three!

charliecharlie finally some charlesy/n content, I was getting worried 😫

joris__throuche maman et papa pendant leurs grandes vacances ❤️ (mom and dad on their big holiday)

↳ charles_leclerc tu nous manques fils (we miss you son)

y/nusername nous reviendrons bientôt (we'll be back soon)

manon_roux couldn't have tucked me into your suitcase?

↳ y/nusername sorry 😔

hannahh squeezing those cute little baby cheeks 😍

charlessix10 mom and dad, dad and mom? 😭

noellepicard babies 🥰

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 489,871 others

y/nusername ☯️☮️

view all 1,578 comments

norry4 MOTHER YES

julieeeexo you're such a beauty 😍

leondewitt jesus christ how did that kid bag this woman?

charlos16 I wanna be like you when I grow up..😩

charles_leclerc mon dieu, j'ai vraiment tellement de chance 😍 (my god, I'm so lucky)

↳ carlandooo were back to publicly simping for each other, war is over..all is good 😭

matthiasn lucky bastard

norrizz lando get out of here, acting like we don't see you liking all y/n her stuff, boy you're not subtle with it 💀

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by joris__trouche, manon_roux and 487,892 others

y/nusername ⛄️⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

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thurthur Charles and Arthur trying to cook? Interesting

norrizz not the zoë snow angel, stop my heart 😭

bott_ass take me with you guys next time pls I'm begging :(

joris__trouche combien de vestes différentes as-tu emballées, j'en ai compté au moins 4 différentes jusqu'à présent 🤪 (how many different jackets did you pack, I counted at least 4 different ones so far)

↳ y/nusername t'inquiète pour tes propres affaires, laisse-moi tranquille (worry about your own things, leave me alone)

charles_leclerc je dois acheter plus de valises 😂 (need to buy more suitcases)

manon_roux nous savons tous que Charles emballe le plus de vêtements ici. (we all know charles packs the most clothes here.)

charles_leclerc coupable 🤷‍♂️ (guilty)

charliecharlie dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad– 😭

charlesgirlies so much charlesy/n content lately 😭

↳ leclec16 we keep winning! 😍

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Everything taglist; @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[afro-hispwriter]

My Everything(Kai Anderson)

Kai Anderson x black!reader(no heavy descriptions)

Summary- You're Kai's everything but you don't know it until he says it

Warnings- brief fear of s/o,  slight housewife!y/n, slapping, meadow being a bitch, slight vulnerable kai

Wc- 1.9k

-

Being the mother of the children of a cult leader was surprisingly better than expected.

Kai always treated you well, ever since the day you met he always seemed to have a sweet spot for you. And it always shocked you because you've heard so much of him from Winter who introduced you two in the first place. 

And with how sweet he treated you it wasn't long until you fell in love with him. 

But everything changed when you got pregnant, and it was also around the time the cult started forming. You wanted to join, be a part of something but Kai said you weren't allowed to. 

You ended up having twins, a boy, and a girl. Peter and Paradyce. Kai at first wanted to name Peter, Charles, or Charlie but you convinced him to Peter. 

-

"We should consider sending them to school, let them get a taste of hanging out with other kids."  You say as you watched Kai read through the pre-k brochures. 

"Women have always taught their kids at home and they always turn out fine." You hated when he turned all misogynistic.

"Kai, please it's already hard enough for me to take care of the twins and the house at the same time. With them, at school, this would give me time and peace of mind to stalk up on groceries and any other errands I need." He set the brochure down and rubbed his chin.

"Okay, doll." You were shocked by how compliant he was. 

"Really? Okay, I'll call the school tomorrow." You stand up with a smile and as you walked past him he grabbed your hand making you stop.

"Anything for you." Your heart swelled at his words and you swear you could've melted when his lips met the back of your hand. 

-

"So you're telling me these past 3-4 years you and Kai haven't talked about what you are? At all?" Beverly asks you.

"Im just the mother of his children." You say as you turn the stove on.

"Please, you're basically his housewife," Meadow says, bitterly you should say. You frowned and put the pot on the stove. 

"She's kind of right, you're his housewife that he has sex with almost every day," Beverly says and you sighed.

Were you really just the housewife?

"Don't listen to them Y/n," Winter says and swings an arm around your shoulders. "You should hear the way Kai talks about you, he loves you and the kids so much." Ivy walked in and threw some packages on the table.

"Are we shit-talking Kai? Because he's been a real dick lately, but whats knew?" They all laughed besides you and Meadow. 

"Kai is nice to me." They all look at you. 

"I guess, he probably just has a sweet spot for you which is very hard to believe." 

"I guess." You respond and pressed your lips together. Meadow scoffed again and rolled her eyes before walking out. You never knew why Meadow never liked you, you've always tried to be nice to her. 

"Don't worry about her, she's just angry that Kai is in love with you and not her." You couldn't deny it made you jealous knowing another woman loved Kai like you do. But now you know why she doesn't like you. 

-

You questioned yourself the whole night.

Were you really just someone who made his life easier? 

You just dropped the kids off at school and a meeting was just ending. As the members started walking up the stairs and leaving the house one by one. You stood just outside the basement entrance, trying to gain the confidence to talk to Kai about a serious matter. 

When nobody came up you took in a deep breath. And leaned against the wall. 

Kai told you that you weren't allowed in the basement, it was his house so he had the right. But you've been living in that house for the past 4 years, you've cleaned that house multiple times and kept it up to date. It's just as much as your house as it is Kai's, so you were going down into the basement. 

You walked down the steps quietly, just encase there was someone still down there. And there was. You peered down so you could see but was still hidden from anyone's eyes. Kai and Meadow sat across each other with their pinkies linked. 

Anxiety, jealousy, and insecurity surged through your veins. But you had to see what they were doing. They talked lowly but from what you heard Meadow said something about 'Housewives' and 'Alcoholics'. You thought it was no big deal but it seemed to anger Kai because he suddenly raised his hand and smacked Maedow across the face, hard. Making her fall and hit the ground. 

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth. 

"ARE YOU GOING TO WASTE MY TIME!?" His screaming startled you so you slowly started to back out, shutting the basement door behind you softly. Your heart was racing and you felt a little lightheaded so you sat down on the couch with your head in your hands. 

You've never seen him act that way. That wasn't your Kai right there. But what if that was his true self and he just used this fake version of himself around you?

It wasn't long before Meadow came up the stairs, trying to make everything okay. She didn't even say goodbye as she closed the front door behind her. Kai came up next and your heart started racing. His fists were clenched and he had a scowl on his face. You stayed quiet waiting for him to make a move and he did.

He slowly started walking to the couch and flopped down next to you making you bounce with it. He groaned and rubbed his forehead. 

"Kids at school?" He asks not looking at you. 

"Mhm." 

"Good, that means we're alone." He says and suddenly wraps his arms around you and roughly tried to pull you into his lap. You gasped and shoved him away, almost falling off the couch. Kai looked at you in confusion, more like as if you went crazy. 

"I-I have to go get groceries for lunch and dinner." You said shakily and walked away. Kai frowned and his eyes followed you to watch you grab your bag. He stood up and leaned against a support, he then dig into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. 

"Go get everything and pay with this." He says and holds out his debit card. "Get yourself something nice too." You hesitantly grabbed the card and tossed it into your bag. 

"Thank you." You walked past him but he grabbed your arm and dragged you back.

“You can’t leave without giving me a kiss from those perfect lips.” He started to lean in and you let out a small sigh. You didn’t want him to get angry so you complied and pecked his lips. “Hey-.” You cut him off.

“Gotta go.” You left quickly before he could say or do anything, leaving him standing there in confusion. 

-

You came back home and unloaded everything, all by yourself. While Kai typed away on his computer, not even sparing you a glance. 

You’ve never been scared to talk to Kai because you always believed he was a good man with some issues. You reorganized the fridge and pantry and put all the food in its place. And as you did so you didn’t notice Kai start to walk up behind you. He peered over your shoulder and his chin dug into your shoulder. The slight pain and ticking made you tense up. 

“Why do you keep tensing? Relax doll.” 

“I-I can’t.” You didn’t turn around just kept pulling things from the bags. Kai chuckled and put both of his hands on either side of you and rested them on the counter, trapping you. 

“Come on, you’ve been acting weird and denied me your sweet perfect pussy this morning.” He cooed in your ear and reached down to grab your cunt through your leggings. You whimpered and grabbed his wrist. 

“Stop.” Once again, another rejection but this time Kai let out a low rumble. He flipped you around and shoved you into the counter.

“Why do you keep saying no?” He pushed himself flush against you and you stared up at him in fear. 

“I-I-.”

“SPEAK!”

“I SAW YOU HIT MEADOW!” You say and squeeze your eyes shut. “I went down there to talk to you about something, and I saw you smack her.” He stayed quiet and backed up.

“I thought I told you too never go down there.” 

“I know.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU!?” He swung his arm at you and you instantly cowered down and shielded your face. You didn’t see but Kai’s shoulders fell and he pulled his hair slightly.

“Please don’t.” You whimpered and suddenly there was a thud. You opened your eyes and searched for Kai but he wasn’t there, so you looked down. 

He was on his knees in front of you looking down. 

“Kai?” He looked up and raised himself on his knees. He grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him so he could bury his face into your stomach. 

“I'd never hurt you or the kids, you just saw me disciplining Meadow.” 

“Why?” Tears started to brim in your eyes. 

“She wasn’t being respectful of my time baby.” He grabbed your hands and kissed them. You swallowed bard and tears started falling. 

“What am I to you Kai? Your housewife, mother of your children, what?” Kai took in a deep breath and started to sit back and pulled you down gently with him. You were hesitating clearly.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won't hurt you.” You softly landed on the floor and he pulled you to straddle him. “You baby are my person, the person I can come home to and be vulnerable. And everyone knows I hate that. You’re my everything baby.” You let out a shuddering cry and Kai pressed your foreheads together. “I'm sorry I scared you.” 

You didn’t respond, just pushed yourself into his body. He kissed the side of your head before grabbing your hair and gently pulling your head back. There was a small moment of just staring into each other's eyes until Kai slammed his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he started to push you down to the floor. 

“Not on the floor.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“Yes on the floor.” He pulled away and buried his hands up your shirt. “I'm going to marry you, you’ll be officially the queen.” 

“Aren’t I already, your followers all fucking respect me.” You say and he pinches your skin making you gasp and buck your hips. 

“I love when you talk like that.” He started to take his shirt off and you stopped him by placing a hand over his chest.

“I forgive you, Kai.” You reached up and stoked his cheek. He turned his head and kissed the palm. You pushed your crotch against him to make his bulge rub your clothed clit slightly. 

“So needy.” You look back and looked at the clock on the stove from an upside-down angle.

“We’ll send Winter to get the kids.”

-

A/n- hope you guys liked this:) I'm thinking of writing a series of one-shots set in this fics storyline

[captainjackscoat]

my favourite DBD characters so far (I've just finished episode 4) are Edwin and Niko. So.

Edwin lines I like:

"Honestly, I just find her so charming"

"Charles, it's going to be okay"

"He is a boy, and I am a boy, if anything he just enjoys ghosts"

"We have the same left!"

"Starfish fall into the phylum Echinodermata and have no brain."

"That's what ghosts do instead of coffee."

"Some of it went over my head, but what I did understand, I enjoyed a great deal."

"Niko. Do not tell anyone, as I have a strict reputation to uphold, but I completely understand."

Niko lines I like:

"Are you insane?"

"Red. For you. For courage."

"You know two boys can like like each other, right? I have a lot of manga about it. It's very sweet. And explicit."

"I do more than watch Anime. I read."

"Sweet name"

"The town library is my fourth favorite public building to visit"

"Same. Minus the car accident part, and the coma part. I had these sprites almost rip me apart, turn my hair white, and now they live in a jar in my room"

"The Internet said that banging pots and pans scares away the evil things."