#prince!charles leclerc x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago

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FOR YOU, ALWAYS | CL16

an: this was a request! i loved wiritng it and now i love the idea of historical romance prince!charles, thank you for requesting it 💞 also i listened to experience by ludovico einaudi the entire time i wrote this

summary: charles has always hated his life, he thinks, he doesn’t know really. but then he meets someone, she challenges him, she makes him try and all of a sudden he knows what he wants.

wc: 12k

The grand dining hall of the Château de Monte Carlo was bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through its ornate windows. Prince Charles of Monaco sat at the long mahogany table, his jaw tight as his parents, the Sovereign Prince and Princess, laid out their expectations with the weight of unshakable certainty.

"You must understand, Charles," his mother said, her voice poised yet firm, "a union with Princess Evelyn of England is not merely desirable—it is necessary. The alliance could strengthen our position in ways you cannot yet fully grasp."

His father leaned forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the table. "This is not a matter of choice. You are the crown prince. Your duty outweighs any personal hesitation."

Charles’s fingers tightened around the stem of his untouched glass. “And what of my life? Am I to simply be a pawn in your political games?” His voice was calm, but a sharp edge lay beneath the surface.

His mother’s gaze softened slightly, though not enough to dissuade her resolve. “You are the oldest, my son. The weight of the crown has always been yours to bear. This... is part of that burden.”

He didn’t argue further, though every fibre of his being resisted. Instead, he rose, offering a clipped bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Moments later, Charles pushed open the heavy doors to his private chambers, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of his room. His temples throbbed with the remnants of the conversation, and he felt the weight of his parents’ expectations settling heavier than the crown he would one day wear.

Inside, the faint rustle of fabric caught his attention. The servant girl—her name unknown to him, as it was meant to be—was smoothing the fresh sheets over his bed. She froze upon seeing him, her hands faltering mid-motion.

“Your Highness,” she said quickly, dipping into a small, practised curtsey. “I didn’t realise you were returning so soon. Shall I leave and return later?”

He waved a hand absently, stepping toward the settee by the window. “No. Stay. Finish your work.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to his face, then back to the task at hand. He sank into the settee, his head tilting back against the carved wood as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Do you ever wonder,” he began, his voice soft yet tinged with frustration, “why some of us are given so much freedom, yet chained in ways that others cannot see?”

She paused, her hands gripping the edges of the linen she had just tucked in, unsure if the question was meant for her.

When she did not answer, he looked at her—truly looked at her—for the first time in a long while. Her expression was guarded, her posture poised, as though expecting reproach. “You can speak freely,” he said, a rare hint of gentleness colouring his tone.

Her lips parted slightly, then closed again before she carefully responded, “I think, Your Highness, that even those with freedom often long for something else.”

He smiled faintly, though there was no humour in it. “Something else,” he echoed, the words hanging between them like a challenge to a fate he could not escape.

She quickly turned her attention back to the task at hand, smoothing the sheets in swift, precise movements, as if afraid that lingering would invite trouble. Charles, however, was not done with the conversation.

“And what would you long for?” he asked, his voice quieter now but laced with curiosity. “If you could have… anything?”

Her hands stilled, though she didn’t lift her gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Your Highness. People like me don’t waste time with such thoughts.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The firmness in his tone made her look up briefly, her eyes meeting his for the first time. They were dark, unyielding, yet not unkind. She hesitated, as though weighing the consequences of speaking too openly.

Finally, she murmured, “I suppose… I’d long for choice. To decide my own path, no matter how humble.”

Charles leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regarded her with an intensity that made her shift slightly under his gaze. “Choice,” he repeated, almost to himself. “The one thing I’ve never had.”

She blinked at his words, her brow furrowing in confusion. He noticed the look and gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“You think I have everything, don’t you?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at the opulence surrounding them. “All this, and yet I’m to marry a woman I’ve never met. Smile on command. Produce heirs like some stud horse for the dynasty.”

“Your Highness—”

“Spare me,” he interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m aware I sound insufferable. Poor me, the prince in his gilded cage.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, the faintest shadow of a smile threatening to appear, though she suppressed it quickly. “I wouldn’t dare say so, Your Highness.”

“And yet you’re thinking it,” he said, leaning back against the settee, a faint smirk tugging at his lips now. “Go on. You’ve already said more than most would dare. Speak freely.”

She hesitated, then, emboldened by his unusual mood, offered carefully, “I think… it’s easier to envy a cage when it’s lined with silk.”

Charles let out a bark of laughter, surprising them both. For a moment, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by something lighter.

“Touché,” he said, shaking his head. “Perhaps I deserve that.”

She resumed her work in silence, and he watched her, his mind turning over her words. There was a simplicity in her presence, a quiet sense of purpose that felt like a reprieve from the endless demands of court life.

As she moved to leave, her task completed, she paused by the door. “Your Highness,” she said, her voice tentative.

He glanced up, his expression expectant.

“Sometimes… cages are only as strong as we believe them to be.”

Before he could respond, she slipped out, leaving him alone with his thoughts—and the echo of her words, which refused to leave him in peace.

The words haunted Charles for days. Cages are only as strong as we believe them to be. They played on a loop in his mind, following him from morning meetings with ministers to the hollow dinners with his parents, where talk of his engagement to Princess Evelyn consumed every conversation.

By the third day, he relented. Not to the sentiment behind her words, but to the reality of his life. Duty, it seemed, would always triumph over desire. He formally agreed to the arrangement in a cold meeting with his father, his voice devoid of emotion as he signed the papers that would announce his betrothal to the world.

That evening, restless and seeking solace, he ventured into the royal gardens. The roses were in full bloom, their scent heavy in the warm air, yet they brought him no comfort. The paths, so meticulously maintained, felt as constricting as the marble walls of the palace.

The crisp evening air offered a solace the grand halls could not. He strolled along the manicured paths, his mind still heavy with the decision he had made, when movement near the servant’s entrance caught his eye.

It was her.

She was dressed simply, carrying a basket as she slipped through the narrow door at the edge of the palace walls. For a moment, he simply watched her, a sudden curiosity flaring to life. Then, before reason could temper him, he followed.

She moved with purpose, her steps quick as she crossed the gravel path leading to the servants’ gate. Charles kept his distance, careful to stay within the shadows. The sound of the gate creaking open carried through the still night, and he quickened his pace.

“Wait,” he called softly as the gate began to swing shut behind her.

She spun, startled, her hand flying to her chest when she saw him. “Your Highness!” she whispered, her tone panicked. She glanced around quickly, as though expecting someone to appear from the darkness. “What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you,” he said simply, his voice low, “and I followed.”

Her expression shifted from shock to alarm. “You shouldn’t have. If anyone sees you out here with me—”

“They won’t,” he said firmly, stepping closer.

“But if they do…” Her voice dropped further, almost a plea. “I’ll be dismissed—worse. Do you know what they’d do to me for leaving the palace grounds with the prince?”

He stared at her, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something other than despair. “Please,” he said, the word escaping him softly but with undeniable weight.

Her eyes widened at his uncharacteristic vulnerability. She shook her head, taking a step back. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“I’m not ordering you,” he said quickly. “I’m asking.”

For a moment, she stood frozen, her mind clearly racing. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she pulled the cloak from her shoulders and thrust it toward him.

“Fine,” she said, her tone sharp but her movements careful as she draped it around him. “If anyone asks, you’re my cousin visiting from the countryside. Keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

Charles nodded, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Understood.”

She turned and began walking quickly down the narrow dirt path beyond the gate. He followed, cloaked in her simple, worn garment, the scent of lavender lingering faintly in the fabric.

They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity before the lights of a small village came into view. She turned onto a side lane, leading him to a tiny house at the edge of town, its thatched roof weathered but charming.

“This is it,” she said, her voice clipped as she gestured to the modest dwelling.

He stared at the house, a stark contrast to the palace he called home. “You live here?”

“Yes,” she said, clearly defensive. “It’s small, but it’s mine. No one tells me what to do when I’m here.”

He didn’t respond, too busy taking in the details: the flower boxes beneath the windows, the faint glow of a single candle in the window.

“Now you’ve seen it,” she said, her tone impatient. “You should go back before someone notices you’re missing.”

But Charles shook his head. “No,” he said softly, his eyes still fixed on the little house. “Not yet.”

Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. “You shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted, finally looking at her. “But now that I’m here… I can’t imagine wanting to leave.”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. The quiet stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she sighed again, softer this time.

“Fine,” she said, stepping toward the door. “But if anyone asks, I don’t know why you’re here, and I definitely didn’t bring you.”

She pushed the door open, stepping inside with a cautious glance behind her. Charles followed, ducking slightly to avoid the low wooden beam over the doorway. Before she could say a word, a voice called from inside.

“Back already? I thought you—”

The voice cut off as a man, younger than Charles but older than the servant girl, appeared from the far corner of the small room. He froze, his sharp blue eyes flicking between her and the prince. “What in God’s name…”

“Damn it!” she hissed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought you were working the late shift at the docks tonight!”

“I was,” her brother said, stepping forward and squaring his shoulders. His rough shirt and patched trousers bore the telltale marks of dock work—salt stains and grime clung to the fabric. “But the shipment was cancelled. Now you tell me why the bloody prince of Monaco is in our house. Did you kidnap him?”

“Kidnap him?” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Don’t be ridiculous. He followed me!”

Charles, for his part, seemed utterly unconcerned by the commotion. His gaze wandered over the small room with childlike fascination, taking in the chipped table, the cracked ceramic plates stacked neatly in the corner, and the patchwork curtain separating the single sleeping area. He paused to admire a string of dried herbs hanging near the hearth, as though he’d never seen anything so fascinating.

“Your Highness,” the brother said, stepping in front of him with an awkward, hesitant bow. “I mean no disrespect, but do you… do you need me to call someone? Or are you in danger?” He looked over his shoulder at his sister. “Are we in danger?”

“No one is in danger,” Charles replied, his voice calm. He turned to her brother with a polite nod. “Thank you for your concern. I’m here of my own accord.”

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes landed on a wooden crate near the wall, and before either sibling could stop him, he lowered himself onto it. The crate creaked but held, and he leaned back with a sigh, a serene smile spreading across his face.

The girl spun on him, her exasperation bubbling over. “What are you smiling about?”

He looked up at her, his expression earnest, almost boyish. “It’s beautiful.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Here,” he said, gesturing around the room. “It’s so cosy. Everything has its place. It’s warm, lived-in… peaceful.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “You call this beautiful? Your palace is five hundred times the size, and you think this is—”

“I know what my palace is,” Charles interrupted, though his tone held no irritation. “Cold. Grand. Silent. This… this feels alive.”

She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scold him. “It’s a shack,” she said finally, her voice softer but still tinged with disbelief.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “But it’s your shack. And it’s more honest than anything I’ve ever known.”

Her brother exchanged a glance with her, his expression suggesting that he thought the prince might have lost his mind. She only shook her head, sighing heavily as she walked to the table and placed her basket down.

“This is a mistake,” she muttered to herself.

“Perhaps,” Charles said, still smiling, “but it’s the best mistake I’ve made in a long time.”

She busied herself unpacking the basket, placing a few withered carrots, a handful of potatoes, and some crusty bread onto the table. Her brother leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still watching Charles with wary eyes.

“If you’re staying, Your Highness,” she said, her tone clipped as she focused on the food, “I hope you don’t mind scraps.” She hesitated, then glanced at him. “And you can’t tell anyone at the palace that I take the extras. They’d—”

“Dismiss you,” Charles finished, his voice soft. “I won’t tell. You have my word.”

She gave a small nod, her shoulders relaxing slightly, and began peeling the potatoes. Her hands moved deftly, her brother stepping in to fetch water from the small barrel near the door. Charles sat quietly on his makeshift chair, watching the two of them work in a rhythm.

“Do you need help?” he asked after a moment.

Her brother let out a short laugh, but she only shook her head without looking up. “No, Your Highness, but thank you for the offer. I imagine peeling potatoes is beneath you.”

“Not everything is beneath me,” he replied, and while his voice was carrying a hint of dry humour, there was some seriousness to it.

She didn’t respond, but a faint smile tugged at her lips as she chopped the vegetables and tossed them into a battered pot over the small fire. Soon, the room filled with the simple, comforting aroma of soup.

When the meal was ready, she placed three mismatched bowls on the table and ladled out the steaming broth. She set one in front of Charles without ceremony, then handed one to her brother before sitting down herself.

Charles took a tentative sip, and his eyes widened slightly. “This is excellent.”

Her brother snorted. “It’s boiled scraps, mate. You must really have it rough if you think this is fine dining.”

“Max,” she warned, shooting her brother a glare.

Charles chuckled, dipping a chunk of the crusty bread into the soup. “Maybe it’s not fine dining,” he admitted, “but it tastes real. Honest.”

Her brother rolled his eyes but said nothing more, focusing on his meal. The three of them ate in relative silence, the tension in the room easing slightly as the warmth of the food spread through them.

When the bowls were empty, she cleared the table, stacking the dishes neatly on a small shelf. Charles leaned back, his contented smile returning as he watched her move about the room.

“You should go,” she said finally, her voice breaking the quiet. She didn’t turn to face him.

His smile faltered. “I don’t want to.”

Her hands paused for a moment before she resumed tidying the table. “You’ve seen what you wanted to see. This is my life. And you… you have your own life waiting for you back there.”

Charles stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves. “I suppose you’re right,” he said softly.

She walked toward the door, not meeting his eyes as she grabbed her cloak and gestured for him to follow. Her brother gave Charles a long, unreadable look as he rose to leave, but he said nothing, only shaking his head as the prince ducked back out into the cool night air.

They walked in silence down the dirt path, the lights of the palace glowing faintly in the distance. When they reached the servants’ gate, she stopped and turned to him, keeping her eyes on the ground.

“This is where we part ways,” she said firmly.

He took a step closer, and when she looked up, she saw something in his expression—gratitude, yes, but something deeper, too. Without a word, he reached for her hand, his touch gentle. He held it for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over her calloused fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “For the soup. For everything.”

Before she could respond, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. The gesture was brief, but it sent a wave of warmth up her arm, leaving her stunned.

He stepped back, releasing her hand, and gave her one last look before slipping through the gate and disappearing into the shadows.

She stood there for a long time, staring at the empty path, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.

The next few days at the palace dragged on in a monotonous blur for Charles. His mornings were filled with tiresome meetings about the engagement, his afternoons with rigid etiquette lessons to prepare for public appearances with Princess Evelyn. Every second felt like a tightening noose around his neck.

Finally, the day came for him to meet her. Princess Evelyn of England arrived with her entourage in an ornate carriage, her entrance every bit as grand as expected. She was perfectly polite, perfectly poised—and, to Charles, perfectly insipid.

They sat across from each other in one of the palace’s many drawing rooms, chaperoned by a small battalion of attendants and his ever-watchful parents. She spoke at length about her family lineage, her charity work, and her plans to modernise court life, but her words washed over him like a stream of lukewarm water.

When it was his turn to speak, he managed only the barest pleasantries. He was certain she noticed his lack of enthusiasm, but if it bothered her, she gave no indication.

By the end of the meeting, he felt more drained than he had in years. As she curtsied and left the room, he caught his mother’s pointed glare, but he ignored it.

Before she could say anything to him, he glanced at the ornate clock on his wall. It was nearly the same time as the day she would be fluffing the pillows on his settee. A peculiar sense of anticipation stirred in his chest.

Without a second thought, he made his way to his bedroom. As he opened the door, his eyes immediately fell on her.

She was there, as if summoned by some unspoken wish. She was standing by the settee, her back to him as she carefully fluffed the pillows. Her movements were deliberate, methodical, and entirely unlike the flurry of maids bustling about elsewhere in the palace.

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Perfect timing,” he said loudly, causing her to jump slightly.

She turned, clutching the pillow to her chest. “Your Highness!” she said, startled. “I— I can come back later if—”

“Don’t bother,” he interrupted dramatically, throwing himself onto the bed with a theatrical sigh.

She froze, unsure whether to be amused or annoyed, as he sprawled across the silk covers, one arm flung over his face.

“Let me tell you about the most dreadful afternoon of my life,” he groaned.

Her brow furrowed as she set the pillow back in place. “The dreadful afternoon where you met the woman you’re going to marry?”

“Precisely,” he said, sitting up slightly to gesture at her. “You understand my plight already.”

“I understand you’re being ridiculous,” she replied, smoothing the cushions on the settee.

“Ridiculous?!” he exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. “Do you know what she said when I asked her about her favourite pastime?”

“I don’t,” she said flatly, clearly trying to stay focused on her task.

“She said,” he continued, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm, “Oh, I do adore embroidery. There’s something so meditative about it.”

She stared at him. “That… doesn’t sound terrible.”

He sat up fully now, gesturing emphatically. “Doesn’t sound terrible? It’s horrific! What am I to do with someone who finds stitching flowers onto fabric the height of excitement?”

“You could try embroidery yourself,” she suggested dryly, unable to resist a small smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Very funny. No, what I need is someone who… who challenges me. Someone with fire.”

She arched an eyebrow but said nothing, turning back to the pillows.

“Instead,” he muttered, flopping back onto the bed, “I’m shackled to a walking lesson in decorum.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the soft rustle of fabric as she adjusted the settee. Finally, she turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable.

“Maybe,” she said carefully, “you should spend less time thinking about what you don’t like about her and more time figuring out what you’re looking for.”

Charles opened one eye to glance at her. “And if what I’m looking for isn’t an option?”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then, she shook her head and turned back to her work.

“Then you make do,” she said simply.

He watched her for a long moment, his chest tightening inexplicably.

“Is that what you do?” he asked softly.

She paused but didn’t turn around. “Every day, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she grabbed her items and walked out, softly closing the door behind her.

Charles had barely settled back on the bed, still pondering her cryptic answer, when the door to his chambers burst open.

His younger brother, Arthur, strode in, his golden hair slightly dishevelled and a boyish grin plastered across his face. “Charles! I just saw her—the princess of England. She’s… stunning. Gorgeous. A masterpiece, really. You lucky bastard.”

Charles groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Arthur, must you always barge in uninvited?”

Arthur ignored him, plopping himself unceremoniously into one of the velvet chairs near the fireplace. “I mean it. If I were you, I’d have proposed on the spot. Did you see her eyes? Like polished emeralds.”

“She’s… fine,” Charles muttered, his tone flat.

“Fine?” Arthur’s voice rose in mock indignation. “Brother, I’d trade places with you in an instant.” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “What is it? Not enough excitement for you? Too… proper?”

Charles sat up, his expression exasperated. “If you find her so attractive, Arthur, marry her yourself.”

Arthur laughed, clearly amused by the suggestion. “Oh, if only it worked that way. But alas, you are the crown prince. The heir. The one who gets the girl and the throne, while I’m left to look charming at parties.”

Charles shook his head, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn’t help but wonder how different his life might be if the roles were reversed. Could Arthur really be happy living a life of obligation, of gilded cages and loveless arrangements?

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, back to the servant girl. Her small house, her laughter with her brother over bowls of soup, the way she moved through life with an independence he’d never known.

“What would it be like,” he murmured, almost to himself, “to marry someone who isn’t royalty? Someone who isn’t bound by these ridiculous rules?”

Arthur blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Then he laughed, loud and incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

Charles turned his head sharply, fixing his brother with a challenging look. “I’m serious. What would it be like to marry a commoner? To live a life free of all this… pomp and pretence?”

Arthur’s laughter faded, replaced by a look of disbelief. “You are mad. Do you have any idea what that would mean? The scandal? The uproar? Father would have a fit. Mother would faint on the spot. And the people? They’d riot.”

“Would they?” Charles asked, his tone calm but insistent. “Or would they understand? Would they respect a prince who chose love over duty?”

Arthur shook his head, a faint sneer creeping into his expression. “You don’t know what you’re saying. A prince doesn’t marry a milkmaid or a seamstress. It’s not a fairytale, Charles. We’re not… like them.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

“Not like them,” Charles repeated softly, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. “And what exactly does that mean?”

Arthur hesitated, then shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “It means we have a responsibility. A legacy to uphold. Marrying into royalty isn’t just tradition—it’s survival. You think Father and Mother arranged your engagement for fun?”

Charles didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, his mind churning. Arthur’s words grated against something deep within him, something that longed to push back against the boundaries of their carefully constructed world.

“Maybe,” he said finally, his voice low, “the legacy isn’t worth the cost.”

Arthur stared at him, his disbelief giving way to concern. “Charles… you’ve been spending too much time alone. Or worse—reading poetry again. Get your head out of the clouds, brother. This is your life. Learn to accept it.”

With that, Arthur rose, clapping Charles on the shoulder before striding toward the door. “And if you won’t,” he added with a grin, “I’ll gladly keep the princess company. You’re a fool not to appreciate her.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Charles alone in the echoing silence of his chambers.

But his mind wasn’t silent.

It churned, restless and defiant, filled with images of a life he might never know.

The chill of the autumn night bit at Charles’s skin as he hurried along the winding path toward the small house. A week had passed, and though he told himself repeatedly that it was improper—foolish, even—he couldn’t shake the gnawing thought of her.

He hadn’t seen her since their last conversation in his chambers. Every day without her had stretched longer than the last. No wry comments while she smoothed the wrinkles from his sheets, no gentle jabs at his dramatics.

The house appeared before him, small and humble against the starlit sky. Light peeked through the cracks in the shutters.

He hesitated, his heart pounding. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.

The door opened a crack, her face appearing in the dim light. The moment she recognised him, her eyes widened in alarm, and she yanked him inside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Your Highness!” she whispered fiercely, pressing her back against the door as though to block the outside world. “Are you out of your mind? I’ll be hung if they find you at my door!”

He tried to smile, though he knew she was right. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

Her expression turned exasperated. “That’s not a valid reason to sneak out of the palace, Prince Charles.”

“Isn’t it?” he countered lightly, though the heat rising in his cheeks betrayed the truth of how much he’d missed her.

Her sigh was heavy with frustration, but something softened in her gaze. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said again, though her voice lacked its earlier sharpness. She moved away from the door, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders.

It was then that he noticed the redness around her nose, the slight rasp in her voice.

“You’ve been ill,” he said, stepping closer.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, waving him off as she moved toward the small kitchen space. “A cold. Happens every year when the weather turns. I’ll survive.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, glancing around the room.

“Life doesn’t wait for the sniffles,” she said with a faint smirk, though her movements were slower than usual as she reached for a bowl.

“Then let me help,” he said, surprising both of them.

She turned, raising an eyebrow. “You? Help? What do you know about cooking?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he admitted, grinning. “But I’m an excellent student.”

She stared at him for a moment, as though deciding whether to humour him. Finally, she handed him a knife and motioned toward a small pile of vegetables. “Fine. Peel those. Try not to cut yourself.”

He took the knife gingerly, studying the carrot as if it were a puzzle. She chuckled softly, the sound warming the small space, and stepped beside him to show him the proper angle for peeling.

The next hour passed in a flurry of quiet laughter and careful instructions. He fumbled with the knife, his first attempts earning teasing remarks from her, but he improved quickly under her guidance. Together, they chopped, stirred, and seasoned until the small pot on the stove began to bubble with a fragrant stew.

As they worked, the conversation drifted.

“You’re better at this than I expected,” she said, handing him a spoon to stir.

He smiled. “Careful. If you keep complimenting me, I might come back for more lessons.”

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Cooking isn’t glamorous work, Your Highness. It’s just… survival.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “but there’s something… grounding about it. It feels real.”

She looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You really hate that palace life, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead focusing on the steady motion of the spoon in the pot. “I don’t hate it,” he said eventually. “It’s just… hollow. Every decision is made for me. Every word is calculated. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be in all of it.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “You’re lucky, though,” she said softly. “Even if it’s hollow, you have a place. A name. People like me… we’re just the shadows keeping the fire alive.”

He stopped stirring, her words settling heavily in the space between them. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said after a moment.

She tilted her head, her expression sceptical. “No?”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’re more than that. You’re clever. Strong. Independent. You see things I never could.”

She blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.

“That’s what I like about you,” he added softly, almost without thinking.

The words hung in the air, and he froze, realising too late what he’d said.

Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she turned away quickly, pretending to adjust the pot on the stove.

His own face burned as he fumbled for something to say, but nothing came. The silence stretched on, heavy and charged, until she finally spoke, her voice quieter than before.

“You should taste the stew,” she said, not looking at him.

He stepped forward, dipping the spoon into the pot and taking a tentative sip.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice softer now.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though she still didn’t meet his gaze.

The evening deepened, the chill of the autumn air seeping through the thin walls of the small house. Charles noticed her slight shiver as she ladled the stew into two mismatched bowls, the threadbare shawl around her shoulders doing little to shield her from the cold.

He stood abruptly, unfastening the clasp of his heavy cloak. She turned to look at him, startled, as he stepped behind her and draped it gently over her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked, pulling the thick fabric around herself instinctively.

“You’re cold,” he said simply, sitting back down and picking up his bowl.

She hesitated, looking at him with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. “But you’ll freeze without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ve survived colder nights, army and all of that.”

The warmth of the cloak seemed to envelop her, and she relaxed slightly, sitting down across from him. For a moment, they ate in silence, the quiet clinking of their spoons the only sound.

When their bowls were empty, Charles glanced around the modest room, noticing for the first time the lack of a hearthfire.

“Do you light a fire at night?” he asked, though he already suspected the answer.

She shook her head. “Can’t afford firewood,” she said matter-of-factly, collecting their bowls. “It’s not so bad. We manage.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say, though the thought of her and her brother enduring nights in such cold unsettled him deeply.

She didn’t seem to notice his reaction, busying herself with tidying up.

Later, as he prepared to leave, she hesitated by the door, holding his cloak out to him.

“Take this back,” she said softly.

He pushed her hand gently back toward her. “Keep it,” he insisted. “For tonight.”

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the words faltering. Finally, she nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

He smiled at her one last time before stepping out into the night, the chill biting at him instantly as he made his way back to the palace.

She played with the royal clasp of his cloak as he left and wondered what her life would be like if she wasn’t just a servant and he wasn’t the Crown Prince of Monaco.

No less than a few days later, her brother barged into the small house, his footsteps heavy against the creaking floorboards.

“Why,” he began, his voice loud and incredulous, “is there months’ worth of firewood outside the house?”

She looked up from where she was patching a worn-out scarf, distracted. “What are you talking about?”

“The firewood,” he repeated, gesturing wildly toward the door. “There’s a mountain of it, just sitting there! Did you rob a lumberyard?”

She frowned, setting down her work and walking to the door. When she stepped outside, her eyes widened at the sight of the neatly stacked pile of firewood by the side of the house.

“I… I don’t know,” she stammered, completely bewildered.

It was then that she noticed a small slip of paper tucked into the top of the stack. Pulling it free, she unfolded it to reveal a note written in a familiar, elegant hand.

Keep warm – C

Her cheeks flushed, and a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Her brother leaned over her shoulder, reading the note. “C?” he asked suspiciously. “Who’s C?”

She folded the note quickly, tucking it into her apron pocket. “No one,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Her brother narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further, shaking his head as he muttered something about princes and their peculiarities.

She was fluffing the pillows on the freshly made bed when the door to the prince’s chambers swung open. Charles strode in, his expression lighting up the moment he saw her. Without hesitation, he leapt onto the bed, landing with a dramatic bounce that sent a pillow tumbling to the floor.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed, grinning. “And you’re better!”

“And you just ruined the bed I made.” she chided but then moved on to adjusting a vase on the side table. “Well I must say, a lit fire at night changes a whole lot.”

He froze for a fraction of a second, then sat up, feigning ignorance with an exaggerated shrug. “Oh? A fire, you say? That’s… good to hear. Fires are quite helpful, I’m told.”

Her smirk widened. “I’m sure someone told you that.”

“Perhaps,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But we’re not here to discuss firewood logistics, are we?”

She rolled her eyes, walking around the room to dust the mantel. “Then what would you like to discuss, Your Highness?”

He sighed heavily, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over his face. “The princess of England.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Oh?”

“I have to meet her again,” he groaned. “Another tea, another tedious conversation about fabrics or her needlework or some other mind-numbing topic. I swear, I’d rather duel blindfolded than sit through it.”

She snorted, biting back a laugh. “Blindfolded? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No,” he said, peeking at her from under his arm. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Of course it is,” she said, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. “Because what’s more reasonable than a prince skewering himself just to avoid small talk?”

He sat up, clutching his chest theatrically. “You wound me, madam. Truly, your lack of sympathy is cruel.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, shaking her head as she set the duster aside. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, grinning.

She turned back to the mantel, but when the silence stretched, she glanced over her shoulder. He was watching her, his expression soft, his eyes warm and intent.

Her brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t looking at you.”

“You absolutely were,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a suspicious look.

“No, I was… thinking,” he said, his voice a touch too casual.

She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”

“About…” He scrambled for an answer, then pointed toward the bed. “About how well you made this bed. Truly impressive. Best I’ve ever seen.”

She rolled her eyes again, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks. “Right,” she said, picking up her duster. “Well, I’ll leave you to your very important thinking, then.”

He watched her go, his chest tightening as the door clicked softly shut behind her.

Over the next few days, Charles found himself increasingly distracted. Whether strolling through the palace gardens or enduring another tiresome tea with the princess, his thoughts invariably drifted to her. The way her wit kept him on his toes. The quiet determination in her movements. The occasional flicker of softness beneath her sharp remarks.

It was maddening.

When he was near her, he found excuses to linger. When she wasn’t around, he searched for her without realising it. And as much as he tried to push the growing ache in his chest aside, he couldn’t deny what was happening.

He’d fallen for her.

It was late afternoon when he returned to his chambers after a gruelling diplomatic meeting. To his delight, she was there, dusting the intricate carvings on the wooden frame of his bed. She didn’t notice him enter, humming softly to herself as she worked.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, watching her for a moment before clearing his throat.

She jumped, spinning around to face him, clutching her duster like a weapon. “Do you have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s my room,” he said, smirking. “I can hardly sneak into my own space.”

She scowled, turning back to her work. “You’re insufferable.”

“So you’ve said,” he replied, stepping further into the room. “But you keep coming back. Perhaps I’m growing on you.”

“I come back because it’s my job,” she retorted, moving to dust a nearby shelf.

He followed her, leaning lazily against the furniture. “A job you seem to excel at. Though I wonder… do you enjoy tormenting me as much as I enjoy tormenting you?”

She shot him a sharp glance, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “Someone has to keep your ego in check, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, reaching out to pluck the duster from her hand. “You do it so well,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned closer, her eyes darting to his before flicking away. “You should stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from hers.

“Whatever it is you’re doing,” she said, stepping back slightly, only to find herself against the edge of the shelf.

The tension in the air was palpable, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His gaze was locked on hers, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

“Charles?” his brother’s voice called from the hallway.

Panic flared in her eyes, and Charles acted on instinct, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the large wardrobe at the side of the room.

“What are you—” she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips as he opened the wardrobe door and ushered her inside.

The space was small, barely enough for the two of them. She pressed herself against the back wall as he stepped in, closing the door behind them.

The darkness was absolute, and the only sound was the quiet shuffle of their breaths.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

A beat passed, and she whispered back, her voice laced with frustration, “If we get caught, it’ll be my neck, not yours.”

“No one’s getting caught,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

In the confined space, his hand brushed against hers, and he froze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his fingers moved to her face. His touch was light, tentative, as though he feared she might vanish at any moment.

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, brushing against her skin with agonising slowness. Her breath hitched, and in the silence, it felt deafening.

“Why are you…” she began, but her voice faltered as his fingers brushed the line of her jaw, lingering there for a moment before sliding to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You’re too close,” she replied, though her tone lacked conviction.

The faintest smile curved his lips, though she couldn’t see it in the dark. “You’re not stopping me,” he said softly.

Before she could respond, his brother’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. “Charles, where are you?”

He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing hers. “Stay still,” he murmured, his hand still cradling her cheek.

She closed her eyes, the tension in the small space suffocating and electric all at once.

Footsteps receded as his brother left the room, grumbling something about missing him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, Charles let out a slow breath, his hand dropping from her face. He opened the wardrobe door slightly, letting in the dim light of the room.

“Safe,” he said quietly, stepping back to let her out.

She stepped past him, her cheeks flushed and her breaths uneven. “You’re reckless,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she hurried to gather her duster.

He smirked, leaning against the wardrobe door. “And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, but the pink in her cheeks betrayed her.

“Get back to work, Your Highness,” she said, her tone sharp but her voice unsteady.

He chuckled softly, watching her go.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Charles’s chambers, painting golden streaks across the plush rug. She was there again, this time at his desk, meticulously polishing the brass handles of the drawers. She worked with the same quiet efficiency she always did, her movements steady, purposeful.

Charles, reclining lazily on the settee, had been pretending to read a book for the past ten minutes. In truth, he’d barely turned a page. His attention was drawn, as it so often was these days, to her.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Have you ever taken a moment to rest?”

She glanced at him briefly before returning to her task. “I rest when my work is done.”

“And when is it done?” he pressed, setting the book down and rising to his feet.

She didn’t answer immediately, her focus still on the brass handle in her hand. “When your chambers sparkle, Your Highness.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “It already sparkles. You’ve polished this desk so many times I can see my reflection.”

She huffed softly, clearly unimpressed. “There’s still dust.”

He reached out, his hand gently brushing hers as she gripped the cloth. She stilled, her breath catching as his fingers lingered over hers.

“You’re relentless,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her eyes flicked to his, wide and uncertain. “And you’re in my way.”

He smiled, his expression teasing but his gaze intent. “I’m rarely in anyone’s way. It’s a novelty.”

She tried to step back, but he moved with her, closing the distance between them. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Observing,” he said, his voice soft, warm, as if he were sharing a secret. “You’re endlessly fascinating to watch, you know.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but he reached out, gently tilting her chin so she’d meet his eyes again.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Why not?”

“Because…” She faltered, her lips parting as she searched for words. “Because you shouldn’t.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand still holding her chin. The air between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them dared name.

“You’re trembling again,” he said softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles.

“I’m not,” she said quickly, but her voice betrayed her.

“You are,” he whispered, his thumb brushing her jaw in the lightest of touches.

Her breath hitched, and her hands tightened around the cloth she still held. “This is dangerous,” she managed, though her tone was weak.

“For you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Or for me?”

She couldn’t answer, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

His hand moved, the backs of his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, then down to her neck, where his thumb rested lightly against her pulse. He felt it hammering beneath his touch and smiled softly, almost as if he were marvelling at it.

“You feel it too,” he said, his voice low and intimate, as if the world beyond this moment didn’t exist.

She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she finally pushed lightly at his chest. “You… need to stop.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze locked on hers. Then, slowly, he stepped back, though the tension in the air lingered like a storm about to break.

She turned away quickly, grabbing her cloth and pretending to busy herself with the desk again, though her hands shook so much she nearly dropped it.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice stopping her in her tracks.

She didn’t turn back to him, but she nodded slightly, her voice quiet. “Don’t do it again.”

But neither of them believed that.

That night the crackle of the fire in the grand drawing room filled the silence as Charles poured himself another glass of brandy. His younger brother lounged in the chair across from him, a glass already in hand.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” Arthur said, swirling his drink. “Even more so than usual.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. “Have I?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “You spent half of tea with the English delegation yesterday staring at the window. I’m pretty sure they could have declared war, and you wouldn’t have noticed.”

Charles chuckled, though it lacked his usual mirth. He stared into his glass, the amber liquid catching the firelight.

“Arthur,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

His brother tilted his head, curious. “What?”

“What would you think of… being the next heir to the throne?”

Arthur blinked, then laughed, loud and incredulous. “What, you’re not planning on dying anytime soon, are you?”

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

Arthur leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Then why would you ask that?”

Charles swirled his drink, his gaze distant. “Just… wondering.”

Arthur snorted, leaning back again. “Abdicating is social suicide. If you’re even entertaining the thought, I’d advise you to stop immediately.”

Charles stayed silent, his thumb brushing idly along the rim of his glass.

The quiet stretched, and Arthur froze mid-drink, lowering his glass to the table with a sharp clink. His eyes widened, and his voice dropped. “You’re not thinking of abdicating… are you?”

Charles didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire.

“Cha,” Arthur pressed, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on with you? Who’s put this absurd idea in your head?”

Charles glanced at him, his expression inscrutable. “It’s not absurd.”

“It is when you’re the crown prince of Monaco,” Arthur snapped, sitting up straighter. “You’d give up everything—power, privilege, our family’s legacy—for what? A whim? A fleeting fancy?”

“It’s not a fancy,” Charles said sharply, his voice cutting through the room.

Arthur blinked, taken aback by his brother’s rare flash of anger. “Then what is it?”

Charles leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring hard at his brother. “What if I told you it’s something real? That I’ve found something—someone—who makes me feel more alive than anything this throne ever could?”

Arthur’s jaw dropped slightly, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Charles said, his tone firm.

Arthur exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t just about a servant, is it?”

Charles’s head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “How—”

“Please,” Arthur said, waving a hand. ��You think I haven’t noticed? The way you’ve been sneaking out, the looks you give when you think no one’s watching? The firewood? You’re an open book.”

Charles leaned back, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I underestimated you.”

“And you’re underestimating the chaos you’d cause,” Arthur shot back. “Do you have any idea what this would mean for the family? For Monaco?”

Charles’s expression hardened. “For once, I’m thinking about what it would mean for me.”

Arthur stared at him, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “You’d walk away from all of this?”

“If it meant being with her?” Charles said, his voice soft but resolute. “Yes. I would.”

The weight of his words settled over them, and for once, Arthur didn’t have a quick retort.

The next few days were torturous for Charles. Each moment stretched longer than the last, his thoughts dominated by her. Every step he took through the palace halls felt meaningless without catching sight of her—her quick smile, her quiet resolve, the way she challenged him without fear.

He thought of her words, her laughter, the way her cheeks flushed when he teased her. More than that, he thought of the way she made him feel—seen, understood, even cherished in a way that no title or crown could replicate.

His heart ached with the weight of it, with the need to tell her, to unburden himself of the truth that had taken root so deeply he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

But how? How could he look her in the eye and admit what he was so sure would unravel the tenuous balance between them?

One morning, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the palace gardens. It was the time of day she often brought fresh linens from the storage to the castle, she usually crossed the gardens. He lingered, hoping for a glimpse of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Frustrated, he returned to his chambers, pacing the space restlessly, thinking. No, waiting to next see her. When she finally arrived, carrying a tray of fresh tea and biscuits, his breath hitched.

“You’re pacing,” she said, placing the tray on the table. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I’ve been restless,” he admitted, stopping mid-stride. “And you’re late.”

She raised an eyebrow as she set the tea. “Didn’t know I was on your schedule.”

He crossed the room to her, his steps deliberate. “I notice when you’re not here.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before she resumed arranging the tea things. “I’m just a servant, Your Highness. Surely you have better things to notice.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his voice dropping.

She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “It should be.”

He wanted to argue, to say it wasn’t her place to decide what mattered to him, but the vulnerability in her gaze stopped him. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Have you eaten today?”

She frowned, clearly caught off guard. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d wager you haven’t,” he said, stepping closer. “You work yourself to the bone.”

She shrugged, turning back to her task. “I’m used to it.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said, his tone softer now. “Come. Sit with me for a moment.”

She hesitated, glancing at the door. “If someone sees—”

“No one will,” he said, moving to pull a chair out for her. “Please.”

Her eyes darted between him and the chair before she sighed, giving in and sitting reluctantly.

He poured her a cup of tea, his movements unhurried. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, and he felt the now-familiar spark that always seemed to follow her touch.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly, looking down at the tea.

“Do what?”

“Treat me like I’m someone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone important.”

His chest tightened. “You are.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide, filled with a mix of disbelief and something else—something that made his breath catch.

For a moment, he thought about saying it, about laying it all out before her. But the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the fear of what her reaction might be.

The next day, Charles found himself waiting for her in his chambers again, anticipation thrumming through him. When she arrived, her arms full of fresh linens, he immediately noticed the faint circles under her eyes.

“You’re overworking yourself again,” he said, standing from his seat near the window.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone brisk as she moved to change the bedding.

“You’re not,” he countered, moving closer.

She straightened, turning to face him. “Why do you care?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths.

“Because…” He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as he struggled to find the right words. “Because you matter to me.”

Her lips parted, her breath catching. “Charles, don’t—”

“I’m not trying to overstep,” he said quickly. “But you should know—I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“Ignore what?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. She stepped back instinctively, breaking the moment.

Over the next few days, he was quieter, more pensive. He found himself watching her more often, the words he wanted to say always on the tip of his tongue. But every time he opened his mouth, the weight of the risks stopped him.

What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she did, but couldn’t say so?

The questions tormented him, each one drawing him closer to the inevitable conclusion: he had to tell her.

But how could he make her understand the depth of his feelings without ruining everything?

Charles really tried to wait it out, he tried so hard.

But when the rain lashed outside his chambers where he sat in the dimly lit room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

He worried.

It was late, far later than when she usually came, but he had waited, a knot of tension in his chest.

When the door finally opened, and she stepped inside with her usual quiet grace, drenched from the rain with his laundry in a covered basket, his heart leapt.

“You’re soaked,” he said, standing quickly. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather.”

She shrugged, setting the basket down by the door. “Work doesn’t stop for a storm, Your Highness.”

He frowned, crossing the room to her. “Take off that cloak; you’ll catch your death.”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing past him toward the hearth, but her shivering betrayed her words.

He moved closer, pulling her gently toward the warmth of the fire. “Why do you always insist on pretending you’re fine when you’re not?”

She stiffened under his touch. “Because I have no other choice.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He reached for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her cold fingers. “You shouldn’t have to live like this.”

She pulled her hands back, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and caution. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He hesitated, his heart pounding. “I can’t keep pretending. Not anymore.”

“Pretending what?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

“That I don’t feel this,” he said, stepping closer. “That I don’t feel everything for you.”

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. “Charles…”

“I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out, raw and unguarded. “I’ve tried to fight it, to ignore it, but I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Before she could even stop them, tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head, stepping back. “You don’t mean that. You can’t.”

“I do,” he said firmly, closing the distance between them again. “I’d give up everything—this title, this life—if it meant being with you.”

Her tears spilled over then, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice breaking. “If I’m not happy here—if I can’t have the life I want—what good is any of this?”

“Because you don’t know what you’re saying,” she said, her voice rising. “You’ve lived in a palace your entire life, with servants, banquets, comfort. You don’t know what it’s like to live without it. To go to bed on an empty stomach. To wake up not knowing if you’ll have work the next day. I can’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t be doing it to me,” he said desperately. “It would be my choice.”

She shook her head again, her tears falling faster now. “And what happens when you realise you can’t live like that? When the reality of it sets in? You’ll resent me. And I’ll lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice pleading as he reached for her hands again. “I swear to you, you won’t.”

“I don’t have a good life,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can barely take care of myself. How could I take care of you?”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he said, his hands tightening around hers. “I just need you. I don’t care about the rest.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his, her tears glistening in the firelight. “You’re asking me to believe in something that feels impossible.”

“Then let me prove it to you,” he said, his voice breaking as his own tears threatened to fall. “Please. Give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Her resolve wavered, her breath hitching as his words sank in. She wanted to believe him—desperately—but the fear of what they would face, of what they would lose, loomed over her.

“Cha…” she began, her voice cracking.

“Please,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Say yes. Just… say yes.”

For a long, agonising moment, the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows and the crackle of the fire.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, cupping her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when I know you feel this too.”

Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.

“And you’re everything,” he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.

After pacing around his room for a few days, thinking of how he was going to tell his father, Charles went to his study.

The atmosphere in the king’s study was heavy with tension, the air almost crackling as Charles stood before his father. The older man sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, his expression dark and unreadable. The storm that had raged days earlier seemed to have shifted inside these walls, centering on the room as if the universe sensed the coming conflict.

“I need to speak with you,” Charles began, his voice steady but tight.

The king set down the pen he had been holding, his gaze sharp. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Charles replied, straightening his shoulders. “I’ve made a decision.”

The king leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I see. Go on, then.”

“I’m going to abdicate.”

For a moment, the words seemed to hang in the air, the weight of them pressing down on the room.

Then, the king’s expression darkened further, his voice sharp and incredulous. “You’re what?”

“I’ve decided I don’t want the throne,” Charles said firmly. “It’s not the life I want anymore.”

The king rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate as he loomed over the desk. “Do you even understand what you’re saying? What you’re throwing away?”

“Yes,” Charles said, meeting his father’s gaze without flinching. “I’ve thought about this—more than you know. I don’t want this life. I want…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I want to live my own life.”

The king scoffed, shaking his head. “And what life would that be? One of obscurity? Of poverty? You’ve never gone a day without comfort, without privilege. You know nothing of what it’s like out there, and you think you can just… give all of this up?”

“I do,” Charles said, his tone resolute.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “This is about her, isn’t it? That servant girl. Your mother mentioned her but I did not believe her.”

Charles’s chest tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “Yes. It’s about her. But it’s also about me. About what I want, who I want to be. And I know I don’t want this.”

“Don’t be a fool,” the king snapped, his voice rising. “You think love is enough to sustain you? That some fantasy of a simpler life will keep you warm when reality sets in? She can’t give you what you need, Charles.”

“She gives me what I want,” Charles shot back, his voice fierce. “And for once, isn’t that enough?”

“No, it isn’t!” the king roared, slamming his hand on the desk. “You’re a prince! You have a duty—to your family, to your people. You can’t just walk away because of some fleeting infatuation.”

“It’s not fleeting,” Charles said, his voice dropping but losing none of its intensity. “I love her. And I’d rather live a life with her—whatever that looks like—than spend one more moment pretending to be happy here.”

The king laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re naïve. You don’t even know how to survive out there.”

“She’ll teach me,” Charles said, surprising even himself with the certainty in his voice. “I want to learn. I want that life—with her.”

The king stared at him, his face a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “You’re throwing away everything you’ve ever known for a life of struggle. For what?”

“For love,” Charles said simply.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The king finally sat back down, rubbing a hand over his face. When he looked up again, his expression was weary but no less stern.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Charles replied. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

The king’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze searching his son’s face as if looking for a crack in his resolve. But Charles stood firm, his decision made.

“You’ll regret this,” the king said finally, his voice heavy with warning.

“Perhaps,” Charles said. “But I’ll never regret choosing her.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, leaving his father staring after him in silence.

The rumours spread like wildfire. Whispers followed Charles wherever he walked, his every step trailed by servants and courtiers exchanging furtive glances and hushed speculations. The air in the palace buzzed with the shock of his decision, but none of it mattered to him. Not the disapproval etched into his father’s face, nor the incredulous murmurs of the courtiers. His mind was focused solely on her.

He found her in the palace laundry room, folding linens with the quiet efficiency that always seemed to calm her. When he walked in, she froze, her fingers clutching the corner of a sheet.

“You,” she began, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “You really went through with it?”

He stepped closer, his hands tucked behind his back, his face calm but his eyes alight with purpose. “I told you I would.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “I thought—Charles, I thought it was just talk. Something you’d get over once you realised how insane it is.”

“Well, I’m officially insane,” he said with a faint smile, stepping closer.

She dropped the sheet onto the table and turned to face him fully, her arms crossed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The crown, the throne, your entire future—it’s gone. All of it. For what?”

“For you,” he said simply.

Her mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, she shook her head, her voice trembling. “You’re impossible. Do you know what this means? I can’t work here anymore, not if you abdicate. The palace won’t keep me.”

“I know,” he said gently. “And I wouldn’t ask you to stay here. We’ll leave—together.”

“Leave?” she echoed, blinking at him.

“Yes,” he said, stepping closer until he was just in front of her. “I’ve been thinking about it. We can go somewhere no one knows us, where we can start fresh.”

She stared at him like he’d grown another head. “Where would we even go?”

“Italy,” he said with a small smile.

“Italy?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.

“Yes, maybe Marenello,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “It’s beautiful, the weather is perfect, and… I don’t know, it just feels right.”

She let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Charles, I don’t even speak Italian.”

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “Then, for once, I’ll get to teach you something.”

His words hung in the air, so tender and unexpected that she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. The corners of his eyes crinkled at her reaction, and before she could say anything else, he stepped even closer and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

She closed her eyes, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through her. “You’re serious about this,” she whispered.

“Completely,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m not afraid of starting over, not if it’s with you.”

For a moment, she let herself believe it could be possible—this crazy, impossible dream of theirs.

“When?” she asked softly.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his voice full of quiet resolve. “After I sign the abdication papers.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes. “And then what?”

He smiled, his expression both calm and full of determination. “And then we start the life we’ve always wanted.”

She didn’t want to be vulgar, she really didn’t but she had to be honest.

She was shitting herself at the thought of being summoned into the King’s office with the entire family.

The office was uncharacteristically quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the palace muffled by the thick doors. Charles sat at the massive oak desk, the official abdication papers spread out before him. Arthur stood off to the side, his arms crossed, watching the scene with a mix of bewilderment and unease while his parents stood by the desk with a clear look of disdain etched on their faces.

She stood near the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She looked smaller than usual, her nerves evident in the way her fingers twisted together. Her wide eyes darted between Charles and the papers, the weight of the moment pressing down on all of them.

Arthur broke the silence first. “Are you sure about what you’re doing, Cha?”

Charles’s pen hovered over the signature line, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at her. She met his gaze, and in that instant, the rest of the room faded away. The worry in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together as if she was holding back words—it was as if he was falling in love all over again.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Cha,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He smiled at her, then, without hesitation, he bent his head and signed his name in bold strokes across the paper.

The moment was electric, the scratch of the pen on parchment the only sound in the room. When he finally set the pen down, it felt as if the world had shifted, as if something monumental had been set into motion.

Arthur exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Well, there it is,” he muttered, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and resignation. “You’re officially insane.”

Charles stood, his movements deliberate as he turned to face her. “Go back to your house,” he said, his voice steady but laced with an urgency that made her breath hitch. “Pack your things. Tell your brother. We’re leaving at six.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as if to protest, but before she could say a word, Arthur muttered something about needing air and slipped out of the room, leaving them alone, his parents following shortly behind.

The silence that followed was thick with tension, their gazes locked as the gravity of what had just happened sank in.

“You…” she began, her voice trembling. “You really did it.”

“I did,” he said, stepping closer to her.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she could, he cupped her face gently in his hands. The world seemed to pause, the space between them charged with an intensity that neither of them could deny any longer.

And then he kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was savouring the moment he had dreamed of for so long. But when she leaned into him, her hands clutching his jacket as if to anchor herself, the kiss deepened, becoming a silent promise of everything they were about to face together.

When they finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion.

She blinked, her eyes shining as she searched his face. “I love you too,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Because she did, she didn’t know when she exactly fell in love with him. Maybe it was when he first came to her house and looked at it with wonder rather than judgement or maybe it was when they shared that intimate moment in the wardrobe.

He smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “Then go,” he said. “Pack your things. This time tomorrow, we’ll be miles away from here. Together.”

She nodded, her resolve strengthening as she stepped back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she turned and slipped out of the office.

Charles stood there for a moment, the weight of what he’d just done settling in his chest. But for the first time in his life, he felt truly free.

the end.

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23victoria · 5 months ago

Text

34 + 35

pairings: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

warnings: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍

authors note: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗁𝗆𝗆! 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇....𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁! 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽!! 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒!! 🤍

𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌?! CLICK HERE

1k celebration f1 masterlist

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you begin to stir. The smell of something delicious wafts through the air, pulling you from your slumber. You stretch, the soft sheets rustling around you, and that's when you see Charles standing in the doorway, a tray in his hands and a loving smile on his face.

"Good morning, baby," he says, his voice filled with affection.

You sit up, propping yourself on the pillows as he brings the tray to you. It's a delightful spread of fresh fruit, fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Charles, this looks amazing!" you exclaim, touched by the effort he's put into making your morning special.

He sets the tray on your lap and leans in to kiss your forehead. "Only the best for you," he says, his eyes sparkling with love. "I wanted to start our anniversary weekend off right."

As you take a bite of the pancakes, savoring the sweet syrup, he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a look of adoration. "You have until tonight to pack your essentials," he says casually.

You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. "Pack my essentials? What do you mean?"

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I already had your BFF buy you stuff and pack everything you might need. Your job is just to relax and get ready."

You're shocked, a mixture of excitement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. "Where are we going?" you ask, your voice filled with anticipation.

You stare at him, speechless. "Wait. Charles! My hair, my nails... nothing is done. Are you serious?"

"It's a surprise," he says with a wink. "But don't worry about a thing. I've scheduled a whole day of pampering for you. Your hair, nails, everything—it's all taken care of."

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly. "That's what you're doing today. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I've got everything planned."

After breakfast, you get ready for your day of pampering. You’re still buzzing with excitement and curiosity about the surprise trip. Charles gives you one last kiss before you head out the door, his parting words making you smile. "Enjoy your day, baby. You deserve it."

Your first stop is a high-end salon downtown, where you're greeted by friendly staff who seem to know exactly who you are. "Welcome! We've been expecting you," the receptionist says with a warm smile.

You're ushered into a private room where your stylist awaits. She’s bubbly and professional, and she wastes no time in discussing what you’d like for your hair. After a brief consultation, you decide on a style that's elegant yet easy to manage, perfect for a surprise trip.

As she works, you relax, letting the tension melt away. The stylist is skilled, her hands working magic on your hair. She gives you a deep conditioning treatment, a trim, and styles your hair into soft, cascading waves that frame your face beautifully.

Next, you’re led to the nail section, where you choose a chic chrome white French tip with tiny jewels for a touch of glamour. The nail technician is meticulous, ensuring each nail is perfect. The process is soothing, and you find yourself chatting with her, the time passing quickly.

Once your nails are done, you move on to a luxurious facial. The esthetician is gentle, applying various creams and masks that rejuvenate your skin, leaving it glowing and refreshed. You close your eyes, letting the serene environment and soft music lull you into a state of complete relaxation.

By the time you’re finished, you feel like a new person. Your hair looks stunning, your nails are impeccable, and your skin feels silky smooth. As you step out of the salon, you can’t help but admire your reflection in the glass door. Charles is going to love this, you think to yourself with a smile.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Charles picks you up outside the salon, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Wow, you look incredible," he says, pulling you in for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"It was amazing," you reply, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much for everything. But I'm still dying to know where we're going."

He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that makes your heart flutter. "All in good time, baby."

He drives you to the airport, the anticipation building with each passing mile. When you arrive, he parks and leads you inside, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. As you walk through the bustling terminal, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Charles, seriously, where are we going?" you ask again, hoping he’ll give you a hint.

He just smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll see soon enough. Trust me."

You board a private plane, a luxury you hadn't expected. The interior is plush and comfortable, with soft leather seats and elegant décor. As you settle in, a stewardess offers you a drink, and you accept a glass of champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose as you take a sip.

Charles sits beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. "I arranged for dinner to be served once we're in the air," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal together while we fly."

You look at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "You're so cute," you say, leaning in to kiss him. "I love you. I'm so excited but also a little nervous."

He smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too. And there's no need to be nervous. Everything is going to be perfect."

The plane takes off smoothly, and soon you’re soaring above the clouds. The stewardess brings out dinner—a beautifully arranged spread of gourmet dishes. There's a succulent filet mignon, a delicate salmon fillet, roasted vegetables, and a variety of decadent desserts.

As you dine, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily between you. The food is delicious, each bite a new sensation of flavor and texture. You feel completely spoiled, each moment more perfect than the last.

"You're really pulling out all the stops," you say, taking a sip of your champagne. "This is like a dream."

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "You deserve nothing but the best," he says softly. "I wanted to make this anniversary unforgettable."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "It already is. But I can't help but wonder—where are we going?"

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hand. "Patience, baby. You'll know soon enough."

After dinner, you both recline your seats, the plane dimming its lights for the evening. You snuggle close to Charles, his arm wrapped around you as you gaze out at the stars twinkling outside the window.

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," you whisper, your voice filled with excitement.

He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm against your skin. "It's going to be amazing," he promises. "I can't wait to share it with you."

As the plane continues its journey, you close your eyes, feeling completely content. The anticipation of the surprise destination fills you with a sense of adventure and wonder. With Charles by your side, you know that whatever awaits you will be perfect.

Several hours later, the plane begins its descent. You wake up, feeling refreshed and curious about where you are. Charles looks at you, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"We're almost there," he says, his voice filled with anticipation.

You look out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of your destination. The landscape below is beautiful, lush and green with hints of water sparkling in the distance. As the plane touches down, you feel a rush of excitement.

Once you’ve landed, Charles helps you gather your things, and you step off the plane into the warm, balmy air. The scenery is breathtaking—palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, the ocean stretching out to the horizon, and the sky painted with the colors of the setting sun.

“Charles, this is incredible,” you say, your eyes wide with wonder. “Where are we?”

He takes your hand, leading you towards a waiting car. “Welcome to Thailand,” he says with a grin. “Our home for the next week.”

You gasp, your heart racing with excitement. “Thailand? Are you serious?”

He nods, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I thought it would be the perfect place to celebrate our anniversary.”

You throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Charles. This is the best surprise ever.”

He kisses you, his lips warm and loving against yours. “Anything for you, baby. Now, let’s get settled in. We have an amazing week ahead of us.”

As you drive towards your hotel, the excitement and anticipation build within you. You can’t wait to see what other surprises Charles has in store. With him by your side, you know this trip will be nothing short of magical.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you make your way to the candle-lit dinner he meticulously planned, the soft glow of lanterns and the soothing sound of the waves set the perfect ambiance. The setting is picturesque—a secluded beach with a table adorned with flowers, candles flickering gently in the evening breeze, and the scent of the ocean filling the air.

Charles, ever the gentleman, pulls out your chair, his eyes never leaving yours. He looks dashing in a crisp white shirt that contrasts beautifully with his tanned skin, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. You can’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness he’s put into this evening.

As you sit down, a waiter appears with a bottle of your favorite wine. Charles pours it for you, the liquid shimmering in the candlelight. You clink glasses, and he raises his, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“To us,” he says, his voice deep and sincere. “To three amazing years and many more to come.”

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and affection. “To us,” you echo, taking a sip of the wine.

The first course arrives—a delicate seafood platter with fresh oysters, shrimp, and lobster, all beautifully presented. You savor each bite, the flavors bursting on your tongue. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with a mix of love and desire.

“This is amazing,” you say, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. “You really outdid yourself.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. “Only the best for you,” he replies, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

The conversation flows effortlessly as you enjoy the meal. You talk about your favorite memories from the past three years, laughing and reminiscing about the adventures you’ve shared. Charles is attentive, hanging on your every word, his gaze never wavering from your face.

The main course is a sumptuous Thai curry, rich and aromatic, with just the right amount of spice. You both savor the complex flavors, occasionally feeding each other bites. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, the connection between you deepening with each shared taste.

As the meal draws to a close, the waiter brings out a decadent dessert—mango sticky rice, perfectly sweet and fragrant. Charles takes a bite, then leans over to kiss you, his lips tasting of mango and coconut.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with emotion.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

After dinner, you and Charles walk back to your hotel, hand in hand. The night is warm, the air filled with the scent of jasmine and the distant sound of music from a nearby festival. When you reach your room, he opens the door with a flourish, revealing a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The room is dimly lit, with rose petals scattered across the bed and soft music playing in the background.

Charles pulls you close, his hands resting on your hips. “I have one more surprise for you,” he says, his breath warm against your ear.

You raise an eyebrow, curious and excited. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He smiles, a slow, sensual smile that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don’t you sit down and find out?”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as he moves to the small table in the corner. He lights a few more candles, their soft glow adding to the romantic atmosphere. Then he turns back to you, his eyes dark and smoldering.

He walks over to you, his movements graceful and deliberate. When he reaches you, he kneels down, his hands sliding up your legs to rest on your thighs. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says, his voice low and filled with desire.

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against your skin. He starts at your ankle, kissing his way up your leg, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. By the time he reaches your inner thigh, you’re already aching with need.

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love and lust. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

You lean back, propping yourself up on your elbows as he continues his slow, sensual exploration. His hands are gentle but firm as they slide up your dress, pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare skin. When his lips finally reach your core, you can’t help but moan, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

He takes his time, his tongue teasing and tasting you with a skill that leaves you breathless. Each flick and swirl sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. You grip the sheets, your knuckles white as you hold on, the sensations overwhelming.

“Charles, I’m so close,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Come for me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come.”

His words send you over the edge, your body arching as the orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your vision going white with pleasure. Charles doesn’t stop, his tongue still moving against you, prolonging your release until you’re shaking with aftershocks.

When you finally come down, he looks up at you, his lips glistening. “You taste amazing,” he says, his voice husky.

You pull him up to you, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. “Your turn,” you whisper, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

You push Charles onto his back, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. He watches you, his eyes filled with anticipation and desire. When you finally have his shirt off, you trail kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin. He groans, his hands tangling in your hair as you make your way lower.

When you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, your eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you say, your voice low and sultry.

He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always do,” he replies, his voice rough with need.

You smile, your fingers deftly undoing his belt and sliding his pants down. When he’s finally bare before you, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body.

Then you lean down, your lips wrapping around him, your tongue teasing the sensitive head. He groans, his hips bucking as you take him deeper, your mouth moving up and down his length with practiced ease. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as he tries to hold on.

“God, you’re so good at that,” he gasps, his voice strained.

You hum in response, the vibration sending shivers through his body. You take him deeper, your hand moving to stroke the base as your mouth works its magic. He’s close, you can feel it, his body tensing as he nears the edge.

Just as he’s about to come, you pull back, a wicked smile on your lips. He looks at you, his eyes filled with desperation and desire. “Please,” he begs, his voice rough. “I need you.”

You climb onto the bed, straddling his hips as you align yourself with him. “Not yet,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “I want to ride you first.”

You sink down onto him, both of you gasping at the sensation. You start to move, your hips rocking back and forth as you take him deep inside you. The pleasure is intense, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping your hips as you ride him.

“You look so hot,” he groans, his voice filled with awe. “God, I love watching you like this.”

You smile, your movements quickening as you feel the pleasure building. “I love it too,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

Just as you’re about to come, Charles flips you over, pinning you beneath him. He thrusts into you hard and fast, his hands gripping your thighs as he drives you both towards release. The pleasure is overwhelming, each thrust sending you higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy.

“You want me to get you pregnant?” he growls, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” you moan, your body arching beneath him. “Yes, Charles, I want it so much.”

He thrusts into you one final time, both of you crying out as you come together. The sensation is intense, your body shaking with the force of your release. When it finally subsides, you collapse against the bed, your body spent and satisfied.

Charles pulls out of you gently, his movements careful and tender. He reaches for a warm rag, cleaning you up with a soft touch. “You were amazing,” he murmurs, his voice filled with love and admiration.

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “So were you,” you reply, your voice soft.

He finishes cleaning you up, then scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. When you see the rose petals and warm water waiting, you can’t help but smile. “You really thought of everything,” you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Charles sets you down gently into the bath, the warm water enveloping your tired muscles and soothing your skin. The scent of the rose petals fills the air, adding to the romantic atmosphere. He slips in behind you, pulling you close so your back rests against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you securely.

You both sigh in contentment, the warm water and intimate setting creating a perfect moment of peace and relaxation. Charles nuzzles your neck, placing soft kisses along your shoulder.

“This was perfect,” you murmur, leaning back into him.

He tightens his hold on you slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he whispers. “I wanted tonight to be special for you.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “It was more than special. It was unforgettable.”

He smiles, his eyes filled with love. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart swelling with emotion.

You rest in the bath together, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. Charles’s hands gently caress your skin, his touch soothing and comforting. You close your eyes, letting yourself relax completely in his embrace.

taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @yoncesgroove @exotic-iris13 @magicpractically @eoduuung @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @avengers-assemble123456 @oIn4 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips

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adrienneleclerc · 8 months ago

Text

Prince of Ferrari

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N meets F1 driver, Charles Leclerc, in a surprising and completely unexpected way.

Warning: THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES LECLERC FANFIC, inaccurate F1 details (I’m a new fan, I’m learning) Grammatical and spelling errors

A/N: inspired by the way Ella of Frell met Prince Charmont in the movie Ella Enchanted. It is kinda a mix of Ella Enchanted and the DCOM Starstruck which really mad eme believe I'll have a Y/N moment, I really hope y’all like it!

Y/N was not a huge sports girl, but she LOVES Formula 1. Y/N started watching F1 with her dad when Checo Pérez joined in 2011 and now she’s living in Miami with the Grand Prix being only a few days away. Though everyone is a Ferrari fan according to Sebastian Vettel, Y/N was a total Red Bull fan.

That brings her to the Aventura Mall where Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz had an event with Ray-Ban.

"Do you know why there are so many people here?" Y/N asked her friend, trying to push through the crowd to get to Guess.

"Didn't you hear? The Ferrari boys are coming to the mall because of their Ray-Ban sponsorship/partnership, how did you not know this? I though you were a big F1 fan." Y/N's friend, Francesca, said.

"Exactly, I am an F1 fan, not a Ferrari fan. Isn't there are a Ferrari store here too? Why can't they do a Ferrari event?" Y/n asked.

"I think that is Sunday after the race." Francesca said, Y/N was going to say somwthing before she heard screaming. "Looks like the Ferrari boys are here. Can I meet them please?" Francesca asked Y/N with puppy dog eyes.

"Sure, I'll try to go to the Dolphin mall and see if I can get my mom a birthday gift without the crowd, let me know if you get a photo with them." Y/N said, she kissed Francesca goodbye and made it towards the exit.

Charles and Carlos were entering the mall, signing things as people were taking photos and videos of them.

"Remind me again why we are here?" Charles asked Fred.

"We need to maintain a good relationship with Ray-Ban." Fred said.

"It is completely fine, Lord Perceval, lighten up." Carlos said. They kept signing things until they made it to the stage set up in the center of the first floor.

"Welcome Formula 1 Ferrari drivers Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz!" Ray Ban employee said. The crowd cheered and got closer to the stage to see the Ferrari boys even closer as the boys walked on stage, shaking hands with the Ray-Ban employee before sitting down on the chair set up and with microphones in their hands. "Before we get this event started, we are raffling off 5 sunglasses with cases signed by the drivers themselves, if you haven't bought tickets, do so now. Carlos and Charles will be answering your questions." The employee said.

The event itself was going well for the first 10 minutes until..

"Charles, are you a fast runner?" A girl asked.

"Not particulary, no, why?" Charles asked.

"Get him!" That same girl said and Charles saw how there were many girls trying to get on stage so Charles did what any guy would do and thats run off the stage and through the exit, 13 girls chasing after him.

"This cannot be happening!" Charles exclaimed to himself. He ran to the parking garage and looked behind him and there were still girls chasing him. He tried to hide behind a car when he bumped into a girl.

"Puta madre, watch where.." Y/N didn't finish her sentence because Charles covered her mouth, pulled her close to him by her waist and slid down the car door, successfully hiding from the girls chasing him. Y/N psuhed his hand away from her mouth. "Huh, well if it isn't the prince of Ferrari."

"Please, call me.." Charles looked into her eyes. "Call me Charles. Sorry about that, occupational hazard." Charles said getting up, dusting himself off. "Allow me." Charles said, helping Y/N off the floor as she dusted herself off as well.

"Does this kind of thing happen often? Being chased by girls?" Y/N asked, looking around the parking garage.

"I don't get chased like this, thats for sure, its more the American fans. But i do get approached often when I am in Monaco." Charles said.

"Well yeah, you're not exactly subtle driving around the country in a fucking sports car that all your fans recognize." Y/N commented.

"So you know a lot about me?" Charles asked with his arms crossed and a stupid smirk on his face.

"Charming, such Libra behavior. Now as you are clearly not in danger from screaming fans and I am nothing but a humble American, I'll leave you to it." Y/N said, about to unlock her car when Charles put his hand over hers.

"Wait, what is your name?" Charles asked.

"Y/N." Y/N responded.

"Do you have anywhere you need to be?" Charles asked.

"Well I'm shopping for my mom's birthday present. I couldn't really do the shopping in this mall." Y/N said.

"Maybe I can help you, as a thank you of course for not blowing my cover." Charles said.

"You gotta lose the Ferrari merch if you don't want to get chase again." Y/N said.

"Oh, of course." Charles said. He took off the Ferrari hoodie he had on and Y/N couldn't help but look when Charles's shirt started riding up when he did so. "Better?"

"I have a Disney baseball cap and sunglasses in my purse, just wear the 'Marvel disguise'." Y/N said laughing as she handed Charles the items and he puts them on.

"Do I look like a normal guy?" Charles asked posing.

"Sure, get in." Y/N said, unlocking her car to get into the driver's seat and Charles circled the car to get into the passenger seat. "Wouldn't your team principal freak out that you are missing?"

"I'll let him know I'm okay, It's only Wednesday, press is not until tomorrow, I think I can have a little fun." Charles said. Y/N started the car and left the parking garage when she got a call from Francesca.

"Digame Fran, como te fue?" Y/N asked her friend.

"Mal, no sabes lo que paso, some girl decided to fucking jump the stage, her and a group of girls chase Charles out of the mall, and now the event is canceled. Like what the fuck. How about you? Did you make it to the other mall?" Francesca asked.

"Actually Fran, you have no idea what happened." Y/N said.

"Hello Fran, how are you?" Charles spoke and Francesca went silent. "Are you alright?" Charles asked again and Francesca screamed.

"You bitch, you have Charles Leclerc in your car?!?" Francesca screamed.

"Relax, he's helping me with something and in turn, he plays hooky until this whole thing blows over." Y/N said. "I'll call you later, okay?" Y/N said, hanging up. "Sorry about her, she is a huge Ferrari fan."

"What about you? Ared you a Ferrari fan?" Charles asked curiously.

"Sorry, red is not my color, I'm a Red Bull fan." Y/N told him. Charles put his hand on his chest.

"Ouch, you hurt me." Charles said and Y/n laughed. "Its such a shame, you would look great in red."

"Charming." Y/N replied.

"So i have been told." Charles said. Y/N played music in the car until they made it to the Dolphin mall. "Miami has a lot of malls."

"Yes, yes it does." Y/N replied before getting out of the car and getting reusable bags from the trunk. "Lets pay for parking."

"You pay to park the car yourself?" Charles asked.

"oh you have so much to learn." Y/N walked to the meter at the entrance of the mall to pay before Y/N grabbed his hand to enter the mall.

"As my tour guide, where do we go first?" Charles asked.

"I wanted to go to Swarovski to get a necklace for my mom." Y/N said.

"Any stores you want to go to?" Charles asked.

"There is a Saks Off Fifth but I don't think I have enough money." Y/N said. Charles pulled out his wallet.

"I'll pay." Charles said but Y/N shook her head.

"There is no way I can let you do that." Y/N said.

"I insist. You are helping me a lot by treating me like a regular guy. Its the least I can do, you are babysitting me after all." Charles said.

"Well I can't argue with that." Y/N said.

That is exactly what happened, Charles helped Y/N pick out a necklace with matching earrings for Y/N's mom and paid for it. Charles was very insistent in Y/N trying on clothes from different stores she wanted to look at. When Charles saw Y/N's eyes light up in a certain item, he always said "Do not look at the price tag, do you like it? Do you want to get it? Then its done, I'll buy it for you." Charles ended up carrying Y/N's shopping bags after every trip. They went to the food court and Charles also paid for their lunch, they sat in a far away booth.

"So how did you get into F1?" Charles asked, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"Well my dad is a fan, we like Checo Perez because he is Mexican, Latino power and all that." Y/N said, eating her Chinese food.

"So that is why you are a Red Bull fan, good to know." Charles said.

"Yep, that's why. I hate to ruin the moment, but what happens after today?" Y/N asked.

"Well I wouldn't see you in person until the next Miami GP, but we could talk everyday if you give me your phone number, If you want fo course, I liked spending the day with you." Charles admitted.

"I liked spending the day with you too, I never had a guy friend before so this type of relationship is new to me, but i don't hate it." Y/N replied. Charles got out his phone.

"Here, put your contact in." Charles handed Y/N his phone. Y/N added her name and her photo, han ding it back to Charles. "'Y/N American', very cute." Charles said.

"why thank you." Y/N did the nose scrunch and Charles found it adorable. "Now do you want to buy anything sir or are you okay? It's almost 5 and tomorrow is your media day." Y/n said.

"yeah, we can go." Charles said, they finished their food, threw out their garbage, left the mall, and went to Y/N's car, she got in front of his hotel. "You should come over one day." Charles said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"If your team principal says its okay." Y/N said.

"I'll make sure he says its okay, see you around." Charles said, leaving the car. Y/N drove back to her house, her parents watching TV in the living room.

"Como te fue, mija?" Y/N's mom asked.

"Me fue bien, Mami, luego te cuento." Y/N said, dropping off her bags in her room. She closed her door and collapsed on her bed when she got a text.

Unknown number: Fred said its okay, whenever you want to come over, let me know.

Unknown number: It is Charles by the way.

Y/n laughed and replied to him.

You: Sounds like a plan, I'll let you know, Charlie.

Y/N saved Charles's number as Charlie and sighed. Today was a good day.

The End

Hope y'all liked it, if you did, maybe I can write more, I don't know, I need more Latina representation. Up to you if you want more or if i should just stick to reading F1 fanfics.

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #prince of ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff

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verstawppen · 7 months ago

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hold me close (cl16)

BLURB (1.2k words)

verstawppen writes: something short and sweet for yall. enjoy!

summary: you comfort Charles after a bad Quali warnings: none. fem!reader, F1 journalist!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, secret relationship.

The day was going by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every time you checked your lock screen it seemed only a minute had passed. You sighed in exasperation as the press conference stretched on well past the scheduled timings. You could see the exhaustion on Yuk and Daniel’s faces even from your position at the back and you knew they were dying to get back to their hotel rooms for a day of rest. But here they were, stuck in the media pen answering pointed questions about their Qualifying. And you were stuck too. You’d already done your duties and compiled all the responses from your interviews with the drivers for your tabloid. You were itching to get back to your hotel room. To get back to Charles. He’d had a bad Qualifying, just as he began his fastest lap of Quali, his gearbox began malfunctioning and Ferrari had to retire the car. He was visibly frustrated when he came back to the Ferrari garage. He just wanted to have a good race for once this season without facing any issues with his car and you felt that he deserved that, being one of the best drivers on the grid. Ever since you’d seen him leaving the garage, running his hands through his damp hair, something he only did when he was being consumed with anxiety, you’d wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and soothe his uneased mind. You were his girlfriend, you should have been there for him. But it wasn’t that easy, you knew the implications it would have on both your careers, more on his than yours, to be seen together. An F1 journalist and Ferrari’s golden boy. The media would have a field day, you would know. A brief buzz from the pocket of your trousers brought you out of your thoughts-

Charles <3 When are you coming back?? I miss you :( You I’m so sorry Cha the conference is running past the schedule. I’m stuck here Charles <3 Want me to come rescue you, cherie? You No it’s alright, love. Try to rest until I come back, you’ve had a long day. When Charles didn’t respond after 15 minutes, you presumed he’d taken your advice and had gone to sleep. You felt guilt churn in your stomach. Charles was always there to take care of you after a long day despite his own exhausting profession. He was an absolute sweetheart, showering you with kisses as soon as you came back to him in his motorhome or his hotel room, sitting you down on his bed before taking off your heels for you, nimble fingers massaging your sore, tender feet.

‘Fuck this’ you thought to yourself. “Hey I think I’m gonna leave early”, you informed your colleague sitting beside you. You were friends and you’d told her about you and Charles. She nodded in understanding, “Go, I’ll cover for you.” You got up from your seat, shooting her a grateful smile as you gathered your things and left the media pen. You called yourself a cab to the hotel where Charles and you were staying. The ride felt longer than when you’d arrived at the paddock in the morning, excited to see Charles race. You rubbed your temple, your concern for Charles growing by the minute.

You practically fell out of the cab when you opened the door in a hurry even before the car had fully stopped. You quickly paid the driver and ran up the steps of the hotel entrance. The cool air of the hotel lobby cooled your skin which had gathered a thin layer of sweat from your rushed movements and increasing stress. You impatiently waited for the elevator and immediately pressed your floor number once you were inside.

The elevator opened with a ding and soon you were standing in front of Charles’s hotel room fishing around with one hand for the keycard he’d given you while your other hand held your suit jacket and your bag. You scanned the card and opened the door. You tried to be as quiet as possible and closed the door behind you with a soft click. You removed your heels, set them down on the shoe rack and deposited your stuff onto a countertop near the room’s entrance. But maybe your movements weren’t as discreet as you thought because as soon as the bed came into view, you saw Charles had woken up, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He let out a silent yawn but as soon as his eyes fell on you, his face lit up. He sat upright, a wide grin on his face which you mirrored. You quickly made your way over to his side of the bed and sat down in front of him, feeling his hands wrap themselves around your frame. He was wearing a black hoodie, his favourite one which you liked to steal sometimes. You buried your in his neck, he smelled of aftershave and his characteristic slightly musky cologne. You held him close, your fingers clutching onto his hoodie. His chin rested atop your head, his left hand tracing abstract circles on your back. It was everything you both needed. You pulled away and looked up into his sparkling green orbs. “Hi, love” “Hi, cherie” Even though he’d been calling you ‘cherie’ for more than 2 years now, the nickname never failed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached to cup his face, thumb lightly stroking his cheekbone. “How are you?”, you asked. From this proximity, you could see the dark circles forming under his mesmerising eyes, a detail that the cameras thankfully never seemed to capture. And it was good, you knew Charles would hate for the world to think that he wasn’t able to take the heat. But at the end of the day, he was only human. He smiled before replying to you, his voice slightly raspy from having just woken up,” I’m good now that you’re here, mon amour.” Your hands moved from his face into his curled locks and he relished the feeling of your fingers lightly massaging his scalp, making waves of comfort and relief wash all over his tired body as his head found its resting place on your collarbone, lightly taking in the scent of your sweet floral perfume. He unconsciously smiled against your neck. Carding your fingers through his hair just the way you knew he liked, you spoke to him in a low, comforting sort of voice, “You did so well today, Charles. You almost had the fastest lap of the Quali despite having to work with such a difficult car. You got the best you could out of that car and that’s enough for now. Things will get better, Ferrari is working on the issue, right? You’ll soon have a car worthy of your talent and you’ll be back on the podium in no time, love.” He hummed in acknowledgement of your encouraging words. It meant a lot to him, more than you’d ever know. He pressed a small kiss to your collarbone in appreciation. “Thank you, ma cherie” You smiled, your eyes closing to relish the warmth of his presence in your embrace. “Anytime, Cha”

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formulaforza · 26 days ago

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Perfect moments don’t exist, but this has to be as close as you can get.

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince: Chapter 9, this week.

#ma&thbp #ma&thbp propaganda #miss americana and the heartbreak prince #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc fic

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saskiaalonso · 2 months ago

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#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #prince george of mercedes #george russell meme #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell #lewis hamilton #mercedes formula one #mercedes #toto wolff #lando norris #charles leclerc #max verstappen #alex albon

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maryleclerc · 2 years ago

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𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader ; prince!charles leclerc x princess!reader ; dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

summary: in which the rumor about prince charles leclerc cheating on his wife with actress kristiana bailee, is rumor true or is it just a misunderstood?

read all my 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 series here

face-claimer: charlottesinne (but i’ll use other name, and she’ll be an actress in this series)

NO HATE TOWARD CHARLOTTE SINNE (cause i love her!!!)

english is not my native language, no experience in being a royal member or anything. this is just a fictional, please do not take it too serious! THIS SERIES WILL BE A HAPPY END SO DON’T WORRY

y/n_leclerc

Liked by arthur_leclerc, kristianabailee_official and 351,822,510 others

y/n_leclerc Just me and my Christian Arthur in London 🫶🏻

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arthur_leclerc ❤️❤️

⤷ y/n_leclerc 🫶🏻

yourmomname Love you bby

⤷ y/n_leclerc Love you too mom

myusernameu_ What does she mean by “Just me and baby in London”?

victoriahailey WTF?:))) Why’s Kristiana like Y/n post? girl stop being jealous of their relationship! i know you’ve read the article and i KNOW FOR SURE YOU DO IT ON PURPOSE

⤷ limejuice She’s literally so jealous and now she want Charles of her own

⤷ _y/nmyheart Not a chance! this not going to happen, i am here patiently waiting for Charles to confirm these rumor

charles_leclerc

Liked by kristianabailee_official, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc Yesterday is a fun day, I had such a great time to see my favorite team race

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arthur_leclerc Have you read the article Charles?

princessy/n He is really saying yesterday is a great day? or am i misread it?

penelopee He must be kidding me

charlesy/nleclerc Do you think its fun to start a rumor like that? @kristianabailee_official ?

kris_fan Why you all attack Kristiana for these?? In this, Kristiana is the first to come to Charles, Y/n is only a latecomer. I hope after this, our “Princess Y/n of Monte Carlo” will be less delusional :)))

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miryum · 1 year ago

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Foundling Villa- Chapter 15

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: smut 18+ minors dni (p in v, nudity, f receiving oral and fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex) and swearing

This chapter can be skipped if you’re uncomfortable- no major plot points other than the smut will take place. (That’s why it’s literally just the smut)

Okay, I know I just posted a couple hours ago, but I had ideas for this chapter and I just had to write it and here we are... Hope you guys like it! 😁 😅

ao3 link next chapter>>

Charles raised a brow. “Would you like to continue the wedding night?”

Your heart started beating a little quicker. “Lead the way.”

Charles scooped you up and carried you over the threshold of your room. You laughed loudly, hitting him lightly in the chest. “What?” he winked. ”I have to make up for what we missed.” You rolled your eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach.

Charles set you gently on the bed, pressing kisses down your collarbone. You pulled his face back towards yours, needing to feel his lips. Charles discarded his shirt, hissing at the cut along his arm. You stilled. “Are you sure we should be doing this? You’re hurt, Charles.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t stop this for all the riches in the land. It’s just a small graze. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Your hesitations were cut off with another kiss. Shrugging your robe off, you were desperate to get rid of the layers separating you and Charles. Already, you could feel heat spread along your body, circulating at the bottom of your stomach.

Your husband helped you take off your sleepwear and soon you lay to him bear, save your underwear. “Beautiful, cherié. Simply gorgeous,” Charles uttered, taking you in.

You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the muscles and curves that you had the sole pleasure of exploring. “I could say the same to you.”

“May I take care of you?” Charles whispered. You nodded in reply, not trusting your voice.

Charles’ mouth trailed down your body, mumbling worships and reverence. He paused at one of your breasts, glancing up at you before taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You gasped as he pulled at it softly, the feeling of his teeth unexpected. He repeated the action with your other breast, putting as much care and love as he had the first.

More open-mouthed kisses trailed down your stomach stopping right above your underwear. “Y/n, are you sure? I need you to be positive you want this.”

“I want this, Charlie,” you insisted. “Honestly, your need for consent is making you more attractive.”

Charles chuckled, eyes darkening. “Call me that again.”

“What?” Your lips curved into a smile. “Charlie?” Charles groaned, hips jerking forward, desperate for friction. A spark ignited in your chest, now knowing the power you held over him. “Or… would you like me to call you… My Prince?”

“Cherié,” Charles warned, lifting an eyebrow. “Be careful. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

A moan filled the room, Charles’ head falling back. You admired the curve in his neck. “As you wish, my wife.”

His fingers curled around your underwear, tugging it off. You felt the cold air hit your bare skin and Charles murmured in appreciation, hands gracing over your hips.

“Please, Charles.”

“Anything you want, cherié.” Charles slowly swept a finger up between your folds. You whined, wanting more. “So wet for me, hm?” Charles muttered, “so ready for me.”

His finger smoothed a faint circle over your clit and you begged, “Please, Charles, please!”

“No, princess, that’s not my name.” Charles shook his head, growing hard at the sight underneath him.

“Fine,” you conceded. “Charlie, please touch me.”

“There we go.” Charles went and licked a stripe around your bundle of nerves, moving down to tease your hole. You gasped at the sudden contact, hips bucking because you needed more.

Charles continued to suck along your clit and you grabbed at his hair, tugging slightly. Charles let out a moan that vibrated along your folds and your breaths became shallower as you felt your heart rate pick up. Your walls clenched around nothing and you said, “Ch- Charlie, I think I’m almost there!”

You started to complain as Charles moved away from you, wanting the feeling of his mouth back. “Not yet,” he said. “I want you to come around me.” You realised what he meant when he started undoing his pants.

During your wedding night, you had been too embarrassed and shy to look Charles in the eye when he was handling his cock. But now, Charles lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes,” you licked your lips and Charles’ gaze was drawn to it. “But shouldn’t I return the pleasure?”

Charles’ chuckled. “Y/n, you don’t have to ‘return the favour’. Today is about you. And besides, if you truly want to, you can take charge next time.”

Next time. A promise. It made you smile.

You let out a desperate sound as Charles’ tip brushed your entrance. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, but adjusting to his size still stung a bit. He waited until your hips started rocking against his to match your pace. He could barely hold back a groan as he increased the speed. Using one hand to grip the headboard, Charles thrusted deeply into you, making you moan. You inhaled sharply when you felt his other hand glide down to your clit and start rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves. You cried out and your walls clenched around him.

“Shit, Y/n, I don’t know how much longer I can go if you keep doing that,” Charles sucked in a breath.

“Charlie, I think I’m about to come!” You felt the tight coil of pleasure in you build up, finally snapping, and you came around Charles. His breathing became irregular and his hips jerked back and forth. You could tell he was on the verge of joining you in ecstasy. You reached up and placed a kiss right under his ear, gently sucking on the tender spot. Charles shivered and let out a loud moan and with one last thrust, he filled you up.

Slowly, he pulled back from you, panting. Your chest rose and fell and you tried to calm your heart. Charles didn’t pull back immediately, instead, he rested his head upon your shoulder.

“I- I liked that a lot better than before,” you commented.

He let out a chuckle, dragging a finger along your jaw. “You’ll get to experience it whenever you want, cherié.”

Instead of agreeing, you simply said, “I love you.”

“And I love hearing you say that,” Charles kissed your cheek. “I love you too, my princess.”

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drwstarkeys · 2 years ago

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pov: you open ur front camera but ur charles leclerc

#charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #wow #he can do no wrong #prince of monaco #fr #f1 instagram au #ferrari #ferarri f1 #he’s perfect

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azaprocky · 1 year ago

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┃ pairings ➣ 〔 ❛ charles leclerc x singer!reader❜ 〕

┃ summary ➣ 〔 ❛ a former couple reunites years after they split up, and growth as well as development was the only thing they have similarities now. ❜ 〕

┃ face claim ➣ 〔 ❛ Beabadobee ❜ 〕

┃ warnings ➣ 〔 ❛ swearing, cheating ❜ 〕

I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit, been saying "yes" instead of "no"

your.username

liked by clairo, charles_leclerc and 4,095,145 others

your.username‎ ‎ ‎ SHE IS NOW RELEASED❗ 🫡

I give you my first ever full length album (Your Nickname)topia! i give my warmest gratitude to all of my supporters both old and new, thank you for staying by my side through the rocky roads.

I LOVE YOU ALL SO FCKIN' MUCH! 🫶

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clairo‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ proud of you baby! 💐

lewishamilton‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤️❤️❤️

sadiesink ‎ ‎ ‎ my queen 🧎🧎

y/nlovebot‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ we missed you so much mom!

nayeonny‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ she slays every. fucking. time. and she knows it

cl16supremacy ‎ ‎ ‎ did Charles just liked her post?? I'm here for it!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow, and it's alright now

❝ here goes fucking nothing ❞ (Y/n) sighed as she opened the door entering a secluded cafe in the downtown of Monte Carlo in Monaco, she didn't even know why she agreed to meet up with her ex after 2 years of splitting up or maybe she couldn't handle and grew tired Charles' perseverance to talk about their relationship and opting to stay friends with her after the things that happened between them

"well hello there my favorite singer, it's nice to see you after awhile" Charles greeted the 23 year old singer, standing up and smiling at her "Fuck off, we all know you love Coldplay, and it's not nice to see you again" (Y/n) said in a sarcastic tone rolling her eyes at the driver, earning a slight laugh from him as they side hugged eachother before sitting on the dimly lighted window section of the small cafe

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

But we were something, don't you think so?, roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool and if my wishes came true It would've been you

It's been clearly 2 years after their split, and even thought the two had known each other all their lives and had been recently talking to eachother time to time (Y/n) is still sensing a bit of awkward tension between them which Charles' had sensed and him deciding to break it with a question "so how's life treating you?" The driver asked smiling at her

"Good I guess, touring around the world made me discover some things about myself and it's a free touring accomodations in some way" The girl answered chuckling in the last part earning a nod from the driver clearly listening to her and smiling "you?, Is Ferrari still treating you like shit?" The Ferrari driver couldn't help but chuckle at what the girl had just said but he couldn't deny it, in a slightest bit it was true

"You could say that, this season has been quite shitty" the monacan driver answered a hint of sadness was quite evident from the way he spoke, (Y/n) couldn't help, she has literally no choice, but to cheer him up by leaning in and patting his shoulder saying "It's still not half of the season right?, you can do it" the girl encourage the driver chuckling a bit

"Anyways how's your life in general?" Charles questioned the singer smiling at her softly, he was genuinely curious on what's happening her life after not seeing her for 2 years and a half

"good, I think I've change quite a lot after the split" (Y/n) answered "How about you?" she questioned sipping her tea "Well I can say the same thing to myself" Charles chuckled a questioned suddenly popped on his mind and it was a risky one...

"Can I be honest?, after our relationship ... did the question 'Maybe we should've worked our differences rather than splitting?" Charles sighed deeply after saying that, god he knew this was so random and out of the bag but he wanted to know

(Y/n) just nodded, she didn't know what words to say at that exact moment, she was shocked truly, but it was true her 19 year old self should've fought to make their relationship better but it was too late now, they have their own spouses and different lives and reputations to live up to

And Charles knew that, he knew that from the bottom of his heart, no matter how much he admired her as a person and an ex lover, he couldn't see himself falling in love with her again.

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I have this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own

August 12, 2023: two years after the break up.

"Give it up for [stage name]" the host introduces (Y/n) to the audience holding the artist's new album the camera pans to (Y/n) as she started singing a new song from her album

It has been a two years after the break up between one of the IT couples of formula 1, (Y/n) (Y/l/n) and Charles Leclerc, they had dated for almost 3 years before ending their relationship, and between those two years alot had changed.

Charles became one of the most popular and successful formula 1 driver this generation, and is thriving on his own.

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your.username‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ playin' in the Jimmy Fallon show tonight 😱 (and also thanks for the over flowing support for (your nickname)topia!)

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While (Y/n) despite having a hiatus, her career in the music industry is sky rocketing, brand deals, guestings and shows left and right.

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You meet some woman on the internet and take her home

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You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

flashback to the night they fell apart.

"You know what?, I'm so fucking tired of this relationship, if you can't stay your fucking penis in your pants I might just fucking cut it and this relationship at this point." (Y/n) screamed as tears started to fall from her eyes to her cheeks accusingly pointing a finger to Charles, she seen him with her friend again, Alexandra.

"Darling, is it so bad that I hang out with your friend? I mean my friends are your friends too right? Why can't I do the same thing?" Charles tried explaining his side, I mean it's normal to kiss your girlfriend's friend in the neck and basically caress their back

"That's what you call a hang out? You're basically flirting with each other, gosh, I thought I could trust you!" the singer says frustrated, she thought that Charles was different, a Gentleman but she thought wrong, Charles tried hugging her but she pushed him away

"Darling I—" Charles tried to reason more but (Y/n) stopped him for explaining more nonsense.

"You and me, we're done" (Y/n) sighed as she gets her purse from the gray couch and started heading to their shared penthouse's front door

But before she leaves for good from this apartment and their relationship "be fucking ready asshole" the singer spat closing the door loudly, Charles couldn't do anything but just sit on the floor and contemplate, what the fuck did she meant by 'be ready'

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If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

present times.

A few hours later, the city lights were slowly starts to fade into the darkness of the night and the only thing that illuminates the light was the moon and the loudness of the streets from earlier that can be heard even in the most secluded part of the cafe was long gone now and is replaced by the jazz music player in the speaker of the cafe.

"It was actually nice to see you after what happened between us" Charles sincerely looked at his former girlfriend and potential friend "You don't know how much this conversation meant to me, I know I was an asshole but you giving me a chance to catch up with you was everything I wished for" he continued speaking with sincerity as he thanked the girl, Charles was truly thankful.

"I would say the same, this was a fulfilling way to face our unresolved conflict in our relationship" (Y/n) agreed on what the driver had said as she offered her hand to him

"well it was nice to see you Charles, you were a wonderful experience in my life"

Charles shaked the singer's hand and he hugged her suddenly, he couldn't contain himself, she became his everything in his life even if it was only temporarily and he treasures her for that.

"Thank you" Charles whispered to the singer's ear before he let go of her, as they leave to go on their seperate ways.

As the night concludes for the ex couple, one thing that they have in their mind their love maybe called a folktale, they believed the stories from their parents that they were meant to be and would marry each other and grow old together however destiny had different plans, and since one was too reckless and the other was too calculated.

But would there be a different outcome if they would be someone different from who they are now? would they be together in this lifetime if they were just simple folks?

They might not now the answer to that as we do too but as the words go "if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow and it's alright now."

Growth helps people to become better for themselves and for others, even if (Y/n) and Charles didn't end up together as they believed they would, they had become better and fulfilled things on their own and maybe in the next life when everything is different they may achieve the same things but hand in hand.

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madisonbeer‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ rockstar gf + softie bf trope 😭

your.username‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ he's the king of sass let me tell you

shuriju‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I missed your dumps mom!!

princenicny/n‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ AAAA the (shipname) crumbs that I'd die for

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #prince #beabadoobee #formula 1 #nicholas galitzine #taylors version #taylor swift #azaprocky

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cieloclercs · 1 year ago

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*:･ﾟ✧* ── 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫, c. leclerc

( royal!charles leclerc au )

𝐁𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄, the House of Verstappen announces the betrothal of its youngest daughter, Princess Cecilia Verstappen, to Prince Charles of House Leclerc

“my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫.”

— taylor swift, the great war

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 values her freedom above all else. She's been a wandering spirit, a lone wolf, if you will, for as long as she can remember. Her heart and soul belongs in the wind between the trees and on the rushing waters of the river that flows through her home. It most certainly doesn't belong to the young prince of her father's rival Kingdom, and, she swears, it never will.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂 doesn't exactly have marriage on his mind at fourteen years of age either, but, as he has learnt over the years, the needs of his family and his people always have to come first. If getting married to the annoying, spoiled girl who taunts him and runs away whenever he tries to speak to her is his duty, then he swears he will do it. Albeit reluctantly.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 are out of options. In a world where their two kingdoms are constantly on the brink of war, they have no choice but to make their less than favourable situation work. Yet, as time passes, and secrets are revealed, they discover that perhaps they aren't so different after all; and maybe, just maybe, they need each other just as much as their kingdoms need them.

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ nadia parkes as

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 of house verstappen

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ charles leclerc as

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 of house leclerc

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇!

max verstappen as 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗 of house verstappen

lily james as 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐓 of monteo

alicia vikander as 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐇 of hasselia

janet montgomery as 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐘𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 of hasselia

the royal families as themselves

read it on wattpad!

if you want to be added to the taglist, just leave a comment on this post!

next ➜ the kingdoms

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formulaforza · 28 days ago

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what would you guys do if i updated miss americana?

#miss americana and the heartbreak prince #nobody cares mack #... anyways #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader

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allywthsr · 1 year ago

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THE LEADER | (c.leclerc)

summary: the new boy in your class is funny, so you befriend him. What happens when you find out who he really is? And what holds the future for the both of you?

wordcount: 3.4K words

pairing: royal!charlesleclerc x fem!reader

warnings: reader is a child for now

notes: hope you like this! It’s a series I wanted to do for weeks now, next part will be out when it’s done. Charles is the oldest of the three brothers because otherwise he couldn’t be the king later on.

When you met Charles, you didn’t even know who he was. Well, kind of.

You grew up in Monaco and as a little girl, you didn’t understood the monarchy. You knew that there was a king and a queen and you knew that they were quite powerful, but that was it.

So when a young good looking boy joined your class in fourth grade, you immediately crushed on him. How could you not, with his dark blue uniform, his brown messy but neat hair, his brown eyes, and big smile. You were nine years old and he was ten, of course everyone had a crush on him, but he choose to sit next to you, you were over the moon.

When he sat next to you, the only thing he could say was a quiet ”Bonjour!“, which you returned, but you both were too shy to say anything else.

You clicked instantly, always talking, always laughing, and always doing something together, whether it was during lunch break or when you had free time during class.

The odd thing was, he was never able to go on play dates. Now you understood why, but when you were little you couldn’t understand, you were always sad about it and had one or two tantrums at home because of it. I mean, how unfair that his parents always said no.

You guys continued the close friendship you had over the year. After two months, there was no Y/N or Charles there was just Y/N and Charles.

When you found out that he was the crown prince, it was a dark day. It’s not like you were mad or anything. You were ten years old, you didn’t understand much yet, you just thought he was a normal kid, your best friend, not a prince and at some point in his life, king.

You remember the days as if it was yesterday.

It was summer break, and you played with your Barbie doll as the TV was on after getting out of the pool, waiting for your mum to finish dinner. You had an open-plan house so your mum could see the TV and what you were doing.

Your mum had turned on the TV on some typical gossip TV show, where they showed the newest gossip of the celebrity world.

When she let out a sigh and said: ”Look Y/N, the king and his family enjoying the day on their boat.“

It was important to her, that you knew the king and the queen, to be a loyal resident.

So when you looked up and saw Charles with a big smile and a towel around his shoulders, you pointed with your pointer finger to the TV and said: ”But mom, that’s Charles, from school. He‘s my best friend, he‘s not the prince.“

That shocked your mother. She‘d never seen your friend Charles before, as you always went to the afternoon program the school offered and Charles didn’t, so she never saw him at drop off or pick up.

”Sweetheart, are you sure? Because that’s the crown prince, his name is also Charles, maybe you got them mixed up. I don’t think that the crown prince goes to a local primary school.“

But you insisted that it was him. Your mum thought that you were making things up in your head, she could not imagine that he went to a primary school, she thought that he was either homeschooled or went to a premium primary school, where only the rich kids would go.

”I‘ll pick you up after the summer break, the new school doesn’t offer an afternoon program, so you could maybe introduce me to your Charles.“

You just nodded and started playing with your doll again, not thinking anything from it, you were sure it was a mixup, that your Charles wasn’t the Prince Charles.

Fast forward to the first day of the new school where Charles and you went. The school was out for the new day. You just left your new classroom and went to the lockers where you stored the new and heavy books. You took Charles by his hand and you said to him: ”Let’s go, my mum wants to meet you!“, but when you wanted to pull him with you, he stopped you. You turned to him and asked him what was wrong.

”Are you sure that she can meet me?“, you looked at him confused. He was your best friend, why couldn’t she meet him?

But the truth was, Charles, was told by his parents and the staff to not meet any parents or something like that, because they wanted him to be a normal child, going to school because before he knows he must do everything the protocol needs him to. It was no big secret, that he went to a public school, and a few parents saw him at pick up, but they didn’t think much of it, just like your parents, thinking that this wasn’t the crown prince, but more like a boy, that looked like him.

The teachers were all advised that they should just treat him like a normal pupil, grade him how his school performance was, and no ’your majesty‘. He was Charles, a boy that just lived in a palace instead of a normal house. Just like the other kids he had to do his homework, study for tests, and behave accordingly. But on school trips, the teachers had to have an extra eye on him, he even got security to accompany him. It wasn’t obvious, but wherever the class went, there was always a big man following them.

So when you looked at him confused, he shook his head, ”Y/N, I can’t meet your mum.“

”Why not? It’s not like she‘s the queen“, you joked. Bad joke. Really bad joke. But how were you supposed to know? He never told you.

”But maybe my mum is“, you choked on your saliva and your eyes widened.

”Charles this isn’t funny.“, you let go of his hand.

”I‘m not being funny Y/N.“

”So it was actually you on the TV during summer break?“

”Yeah, they like to report our life.“

”But you’re my Charles, you can’t be royal.“

”I am your Charles, I just have a different lifestyle than you thought I had.“

”Why did you never tell me?“

”I didn’t think that it was that important, we‘re friends because of how well we get along and I was scared that people would try to befriend me just because I am a prince. Or my parents were scared.“

You felt your whole world crashing down, you were 10, so of course you were a little dramatic with it.

”Is this why we could never meet outside of school? I always wanted to play with you, but you always said that your parents said no.“

”It’s because they said no, they didn’t want anyone in the palace and if I go somewhere, that is dangerous, you never know what some people are up to, I don’t mean that in a bad way, but my parents are scared that something could happen to me.“

You understood, but you were shocked. Did you need to be formal with him now? Call him certain things or bow in front of him?

”My mum is waiting, I need to leave.“

You turned around and rushed to the exit of the school. All you could hear was a faint: ”Y/N, wait.“ but you didn’t turn around. Your mum always told you, that you needed to do a formal greeting when you saw the king or the queen, Monaco is a small city, you may come across the king when you’re on a walk in certain places. She never told you how to greet the prince. Do you need to bow as well? Shake his hand firmly? Address him with a special name?

When you saw your mum waiting for you at the gate of the school you let out a breath.

”Can we hurry home? I want to tell you something.“

So you did just that. And when you sat on the couch you told your mum that ’Charles from school‘ was actually ’Charles the crown prince‘. You could see that her posture changed. Excited to be near a royal but scared that you could’ve said something that could upset the family. So when you finished the story of what happened at the lockers with Charles, you had questions.

”How do I greet him? Do I need to shake his hand as well or bow? And do you think that he can come over now? I want to show him my room.“

Your mother clearly didn’t know what to tell you, she never thought that a situation like this would appear in her life. She needed to speak to your father about this.

”Why don’t you go play and we can talk about this when Dad is home? Lunch will be done soon as well.“

You agreed and when your dad was home, he spoke to your mum, you all sat on the couch ready to talk. Your dad started.

”Mum and I talked about Charles and darling, you do have other friends outside of Charles, right? Because we think it’s best if you focus on them a little more. Charles can be a complicated friend, he is the crown prince. I don’t think he can ever come over for a play date, it’s a dangerous thing for him.“, you thought about the words Charles told you earlier, ”You need to bow when you see him, and maybe ask him if you need to call him crown prince Charles or if prince Charles is enough. The royal family is an important part of Monaco, Y/N. I hope you understand this. He‘s not just your friend, but the future reign of the country, that’s a big thing.“

You nodded understandingly and so you didn’t want the next day to come, scared of how he will react if you call him crown prince Charles.

What you didn’t know, the discussion that happened in the palace over dinner that day.

The Leclerc family sat at the long table in one of the dining rooms they had, over some smoked salmon and Charles was telling his parents how he told his friend, who he is.

”She wanted me to meet her Mum and I said no“, the king gave a nod of approval, while collecting some salmon on his fork, ”and then I told her that I am the prince of Monaco because she tried to drag me to her mum.“

The king was about to put his fork full of salmon in his mouth, but let the silverware fall down where it landed on the old plate with a loud clink, while his eyes widened.

”You what? Charles that is unacceptable. You know how important it is for you to be safe. The more people that know where you go to school, the more uneasy it will get for you there. Maybe we should move you back to your old school. It’s too dangerous, I knew it from the beginning but you insisted on being a normal boy. Charles, one day you will be the king of Monaco. You need to take this a little more seriously, it’s not something you do lightly.“

Charles suddenly felt really small on his chair, his head sunk and his jeans pocket was more interesting than the food that was served on the table.

”We need the staff to call your school and maybe you can go back to your old school again, it’s safer.“

”But Dad, please let me go back there tomorrow. Maybe she didn’t even tell anyone and I can continue my school journey on the normal school. I know that I will be the king, but at the old school, they reminded me of that daily. It was refreshing to not be the crown prince for once. And Y/N is my best friend. I don’t want to leave her, I finally have a genuine friend. You should meet her, she‘s lovely.“

”You can only go if you take Ben with you, he‘ll be by your side the whole day. You will notice sooner or later that you won’t have many friends if you’re the king. Get used to it, Y/N will move on faster than you will know.“, with that he ushered the maid to get Ben to wait in his office to talk about the next day. Ben was the kids’ security, he was a big, bulky man. In front of the king and queen a rather cold guard, but whenever he was alone with the kids he was playful, funny, and always down for some mischief. Charles liked him a lot because he was allowed to run around and play whenever he was out with Ben.

Charles was sad about what his father told him, he didn’t think that Y/N would move on fast, you guys were like Bonnie and Clyde, you only worked together. He hoped he didn’t ruin your friendship because he was the prince of Monaco.

The next school day couldn’t come fast enough for Charles.

Charles came to school a little earlier than usual, while you were running late, which was unlike you. You were always the early one, having to wait for Charles. So when Charles waited for you in the schoolyard for 10 minutes and you still didn’t show up at your usual meeting spot, he scoffed and made his way to the classroom. He was scared that you wouldn’t come today or you suddenly were sick.

But he wasn’t prepared for what he saw when he came into the classroom.

You, sitting next to Cassandra and talking to her squad. That was on the other end of the room where your seats were. He tried to get eye contact with you but failed miserably. Just when the teacher came into the classroom and ushered everyone to go to their assigned seats, you looked at him, while taking your seat.

”Y/N, why didn’t you wait for me at our meeting spot? Are you still mad because of the thing yesterday?“

”I‘m sorry my prince, I didn’t mean to upset you.“, was all you pressed out while staring at the blackboard, where the lesson had already started.

”My wha-? Y/N you can’t be serious, I‘m Charles, stop with the nonsense.“

”But you are the prince of Monaco, our future King, I can’t address a royal by their first name.“

Charles took a breath and wanted to answer you when your teacher spoke up.

”Y/N and Charles, I know the Summer break was fun and all that, but you can tell each other all about that during the lunch break, yeah? It would be nice if you would pay attention.“

You both nodded in sync, but Charles whispered something in your ear.

”We‘ll talk about that later, I‘m Charles to you.“

You looked at him and you could see in his eyes, that he wasn’t the happiest of what suddenly happened to your friendship.

After the boring lessons, it was finally time for the lunch break. Due to you guys still being young and new to the school, you had to be guided to the hall where lunch would be served. Everybody picked their buddy’s on the first day of school and it was no question that you and Charles were buddies. Now you regretted it, the awkward silence between you two was unbearable.

Before you reached the hall, Charles spoke up.

”What was that this morning? I‘m still your best friend Charles.“

”My parents said, I need to call you prince and be formal when I talk to you because you are the heir of the country. And I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t.“

He was speechless. He was the same person as before he told you he was the prince.

”No Y/N, I am your Charles and we’re best friends. No prince or whatever, okay?“

”But we’ll never be normal friends, I’ll never be able to visit you at your home and you can’t come to my house. I’ve always wanted to show you my room and the new toy I got.“

”What if you come home with me after school tomorrow? I will get my parents to allow it, I’m allowed to have friends and, normally, they visit each other.“

Before you could answer, you arrived inside the food hall and you got your lunch, pasta with bolognese. You sat opposite from Charles and it was funny to see him eating that dish, the red sauce was everywhere on his face but you didn’t look any better, he always found it hard to eat pasta with Bolognese, it just somehow ended on his face more than in his mouth. You also discussed the really important topic, if Elefant could actually fly because Charles saw Dumbo on TV last night.

So after the lunch you got back to your old self, chatting with Charles the whole time, pushing each other or tickling him when he least expected it.

So when the end of the school day neared, he got a little nervous.

”You have to ask your parents later if it’s okay if you come home with me tomorrow. They can pick you up by 6:30 pm if that’s alright. I talked with Ben the other day about how we could arrange a meet up“, he saw your confused face, ”Ben is a big guy and he always watches over me when I‘m outside but he‘s also a really good friend.“

You nodded and he continued: ”So your parents just have to come to the palace when you‘re getting picked up“, you nodded again.

”Yep, that sounds like a good plan, I‘ll ask Mama later. But I‘m sure she won’t mind.“

”You know, I‘ve never had friends over before, I‘m quite nervous“, you looked shocked at Charles. Never had friends over? Everybody had someone over or at least when you celebrated birthdays. You weren’t the most popular student in the class but you got along with everybody and would invite some of them to your birthday. That’s what you do, right?

”Never had friends over? How do you celebrate your birthday?“

”Well, the press comes over to take a picture of me and then I celebrate with my family. I had little to no friends in my old school, it was a snobby school and everybody tried to be my friend because they knew that I am the prince.“

”But isn’t it lonely when you have no friends?“

”I have friends, but they all live inside the palace, all the maids are nice or Ben, Ben is my best friend, apart from you of course. I also have my family. My cousins and I get along really well, and let’s not forget my younger brothers. Lorenzo is my younger brother and Arthur is the youngest. I like to play with them, I‘m never lonely because I have all these people around me.“

”That’s fun! What do we wanna do?“

”We can play in the garden, no wait, I‘ve got this really cool toy, it has lights all over it and is a ship. I want to show you it!“

While you made plans the school was out and you both said your goodbyes.

”Charles I‘ll see you tomorrow. I‘m so excited!“

”Me too Y/N! I can’t wait.“

You waved to him and walked the other way, to where your mum was waiting, after greeting her and getting in the car, ready to go home, you said: ”Charles and I made plans tomorrow!“

”Cool Y/N, what are you going to do during lunch break?“

”No mama, after school, he invited me to his house!“

She had to stop at a crosswalk to let pedestrians cross the walk and with a shocked face she turned to you.

Part two

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #royal!charles #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #ferarri #prince of monaco

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