Charles Leclerc One Shot - Tumblr Posts

La Regina

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)

You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.

“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.

You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.

Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”

Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.

“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.

You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.

Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.

Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.

After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.

“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”

“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.

“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”

You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.

“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.

Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”

You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.

“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”

“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”

He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.

The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”

Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”

Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”

As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.

“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”

You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.

“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”

You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”

As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.

***

The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.

“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”

She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.

“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”

You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.

On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.

It makes you feel ill.

Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.

Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.

As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”

“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”

Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”

You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.

The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.

“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”

The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.

“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”

Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.

The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.

Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.

“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.

Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.

“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”

She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.

Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.

Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.

“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”

The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.

How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.

“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”

You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.

You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.

Just Michael. Your one and only papa.

The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.

Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.

Let me have my papa back.

***

A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.

Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”

You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.

“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”

You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.

“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”

You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”

He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”

The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”

“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”

“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”

Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.

“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”

He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”

Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?

“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”

“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.

“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”

Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.

“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”

Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.

“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.

“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.

“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”

She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”

More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.

“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”

Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.

“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”

You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.

“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”

You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.

“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”

Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.

“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”

Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.

“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”

She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”

Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.

When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.

“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”

She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.

“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”

She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.

“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”

***

The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.

“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”

You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”

“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”

As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.

“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”

Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”

You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”

“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”

The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.

Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.

“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.

You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”

He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”

You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”

Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.

You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”

He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”

The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”

The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.

“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”

Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.

“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.

“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.

Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.

You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.

“But?” You prod gently.

Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”

Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”

You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”

Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”

A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”

Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.

On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.

You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”

Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”

It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”

Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”

***

It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.

“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”

You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”

He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”

“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”

Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”

“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”

He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”

“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”

The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.

“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”

You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”

For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”

Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”

“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.

You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”

“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”

You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”

Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?

“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”

You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”

He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”

“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”

“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”

You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”

“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.

You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”

“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”

Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”

He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”

You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.

Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”

Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”

You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.

“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.

He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”

***

You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.

The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”

You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”

He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”

“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.

A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”

Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...

“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.

You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”

Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.

“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.

Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”

You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”

He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”

You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”

Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”

“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”

Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”

You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”

The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.

You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.

“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.

You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”

You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”

Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...

“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”

You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”

Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”

You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”

Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”

You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”

As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.

To race.

To win.

To become a legend.

***

The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Un selfie, per favore!”

“Can you sign this for my daughter?”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.

“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.

The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.

“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”

You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.

“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”

“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”

Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”

You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”

Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”

He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.

“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.

“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.

“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”

She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.

“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”

You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.

Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”

As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.

You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”

Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.

“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”

Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.

The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.

“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”

Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”

She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.

“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.

Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.

Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.

It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.

Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”

Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.

“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”

When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”

You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”

Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”

A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”

“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”

You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.

“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”

As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.

“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”

With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.

Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”

You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”

Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.

As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.

***

Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.

This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.

Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.

“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”

You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”

Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.

“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”

Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.

“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.

“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.

As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”

Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”

You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.

Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.

Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.

You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.

Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.

“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.

Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.

Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.

Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.

“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!

You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.

Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.

As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”

“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”

Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”

Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”

The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”

Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.

Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.

Mission accomplished.

***

The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.

You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”

He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”

There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”

Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”

“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.

“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”

“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”

A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”

You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”

Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”

“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”

Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.

Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.

“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”

You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”

Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”

“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.

“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.

You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.

“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”

Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”

You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”

A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”

You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”

“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”

Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.

Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.

“You!”

The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”

You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.

The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.

After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.

Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.

Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:

“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.

Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”

Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.

As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.

The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.

Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.

On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.

Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.

They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.

The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.

At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”

He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”

The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.

The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.

You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.

Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.

But most of all, it’s home.

As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:

La principessa di Monza.

La principessa di Ferrari.

***

11 Months Later

The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.

“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”

Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.

Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.

The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.

“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”

You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.

Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.

You did it.

World Champion at last!

You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.

Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.

And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.

The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.

“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.

“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”

You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”

Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.

You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.

“To our champion! The Queen!”

The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.

“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”

Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.

All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:

“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”

The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.

“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”

Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.

When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.

For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.

This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.

“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”

You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.

As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.

It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.

And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.

Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.

La Regina di Ferrari.

La Regina del Mondo.

***

Eight Years Later

Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”

“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”

Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”

“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”

You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”

The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.

“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”

“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”

“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.

Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”

“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”

You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.

“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”

“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.

The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.

“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”

“Charles! Over here, please!”

“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”

Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”

Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.

“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.

“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”

“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.

You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”

“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”

“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”

“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”

“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”

You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”

He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.

“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”

Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”

With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”

You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”

Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”

“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”

He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”

Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-

“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”

You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.

“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.

You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”

He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”

You and Charles share an amused look.

“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”

Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.

“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”

And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.

“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”

You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”

With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.

“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.

“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”

You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.

“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”

With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.

By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.

“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”

Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.

“Oh my god, it’s them!”

“They’re so cute together!!”

“Over here, please! This way!”

You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”

Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”

You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.

“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

tags: protective charles? tooth rooting fluff + angst, mention of insecurities, simp!charles, slow burn, charles has a lot on his shoulders + a bit paranoid.

# part one : would you?

# part two: [ October 10 ]

# part three :

# part four :

# part five :

# part six :

# part seven :

The art of blood ✸ cl16

summary: Monaco is the jewel in the crown, a world of expensive cars, casinos, and sheer luxury that conceals the true reason for its name; who imagined that a night of joy would finish with blood on your hands.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

tags: violence, fluffy + angst, charles is crazy (a little) mafia au! protective + possessive charles = simp, bad thoughts, blood and mentions of killing, multiple mafia families (drivers)

# part one : [ soon ]

# part two :

# part three :

# part four :

# part five :

# part six :

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

tags: fluff + angst?, caring charles (tiny bit) + comfort, bad thoughts.

# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]

Everything feels unreal. You're watching the mechanics work in the garage, and the only thing you can think is: has red always been such a pretty color?

It was the first race of the season, and you didn't have much to do yet, they told you that you just needed to make sure that Charles did everything that they asked him to do, and that was easy, thanks to him.

“Have you seen my notebook?" Charles asks as he looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of the tiny notebook somewhere, you let out a chuckle, grab your purse from the floor and give him what he needs. 

“How is it that you always have everything I need?” he took the notebook from your hands and opened it “I try my best” he gave you a knowing look.

Charles still remembers the first time he saw you at the Ferrari headquarters in Maranello, you had just signed your contract with them and he had just been told that he had a new assistant. 

You were quite awkward and a bit clumsy when he first struck up a conversation with you. He learned that this was your first job, and he made a mental note to make you feel welcome, and also he didn't want you to leave him like the others. 

He tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible before the season started, he was patient and generally nice, which was what you really needed at that moment. 

When you made your first mistake and didn't tell Charles that he was supposed to be in a meeting, he took the blame and told Fred that it was his fault. 

You thought he would be angry, but he just said "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes" and in that moment you thank the angels for making him such a nice person. 

"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc" 

"None of that, we are a team you and I, if you ever need help just come to me." 

That was a month ago when you were still new and walking on eggshells trying not to make any mistakes, luckily you got better after all your final grade depended on it. 

"Have you eaten today?" Charles asks, handing his notebook back to you, just needed to check something he thought he should comment on the car in the next meeting they will have. 

"I haven't, but I was about to do so," you told him as you walked out of the garage with him beside you, trying your best not to look at him to see his face, which probably had a disappointed look on it. 

"I thought you said you already ate." 

"I did." 

"What did you have?" 

"Coffee," you mumble softly as you enter the Ferrari hospitality, "that's not food y/n," he scolds you again, you already lose count of how many times he does this.

Charles grabs a plate and starts to put different kinds of fruit on it, "you already ate," he nods, "This is for you," you try to grab the plate out of his hands, but he stretches his arm as high as he can to make sure you don't have a chance to grab it. 

"It's my food, let me grab what I want," he ignores you, grabs your wrist, and walks over to one of the tables. 

He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down, he puts the plate in front of you and sits across from you, motioning for you to start eating, which you do, but not before giving him the meanest look you can.

You take out your phone and play a YouTube video while you eat, it is a bad habit and Charles has told you several times but he still watches with you. 

When you put the phone at the right angle so that you and Charles can see the video without any problems, you notice that he is not watching.

“Mr. Leclerc" you called him but he didn't answer, you sighed softly, you know he heard you. 

"Charlie?" 

"Yes?"

"You have to stop doing that," he tilted his head as if he didn't know what you were saying, "I shouldn't call you that," "Why not?" "Because you're my boss.”

"There's nothing wrong with calling me that, besides it makes me feel old when you call me Mr. Leclerc."

"You are old" 

"I'm twenty-six." 

The look you gave him was enough to make a dramatic gasp come out of his mouth, you were already used to his tactics so you didn't apologize for calling him old. 

When the alarm on your phone went off, you grabbed it and stopped it before it could keep ringing, "Time to go, you have a meeting," you said as you handed him his notebook that he needed for to take notes. 

He gave you a quick thanks, but you grabbed him and raised your hand, he gave you a pout, but you shook your head at that, he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it in your hand, "it was worth the try," he muttered to himself. 

✦ ✦ ✦

While you were waiting for Charles' meeting to end, you took out your laptop and started to finish the assignment you were supposed to send for this month. 

You were quite happy when your professor told you that all you had to do was to send in a report on what you had done, the experience you had gained, and what you had become better at, for your monthly assignment. 

It was a pretty easy assignment since you were traveling around the world and learning things that you didn't even know existed, and since this was your first job, it was easier for you because you were learning a lot of new things. 

“Y/n?" You took your eyes off the computer and looked at the person calling your name, you tilted your head as if to ask if they needed anything but they shook their head and motioned with their hand towards the hospitality door. 

You quickly grab your things and walk to the door to greet your friend, "Did you see what Professor Brown posted in the announcements?" You shake your head and ask, "Is it something important?" "Depends, he wants us to take pictures of what we have been doing lately." 

It didn't sound too bad, if the assignments continued to be like this, you were pretty sure you'd get an easy A. 

"Did you do it?" You ask her, "I did," she nods, "but I came here to tell you because I know sometimes you don't check the announcements," you give her an embarrassed smile, "I'm not that bad," you mutter softly, and she gives you a look, which you shrug off. 

"Well, I'm going back, I'm pretty sure Lando is already out of control again, see you, take care," she gave you a quick hug before walking quickly towards the McLaren hospitality. 

You watched her go and sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket, ready to take some pictures to send with the assignment, "Hey, have you seen Andrea?" You jump a little at the voice next to you, "Don't do that, and yes he’s in your driver's room, are you okay? You've been acting weird since yesterday" you ask him with concern evident in your voice, but he quickly shrugs it off and tells you that he is fine. 

You make a mental note to ask him later. "I'm going to exercise, go to my driver's room if you need anything, okay?" You nod, take his phone out of your purse and hand it to him. 

He quickly says goodbye and walks away before you can say anything else to him, you have noticed that Charles has been acting strange since you arrived in Bahrain. 

You have been meaning to ask him about it, but every time you get the chance he seems to run away, which is so unlike him. 

You snap out of your thoughts and head back into the hospitality area, ready to take some pictures and send off the assignment. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Practice one is about to start and everyone is running around making sure everything is perfect. The only thing that seems not to be here is the driver. 

"Y/n, where is Charles?" Fred asks, you want to shrug your shoulders but then you remember that this is your job, and you should know where he is, you look at him and tell him you're going to get Charles, and he gives you a thumbs up.

You look for Charles everywhere, including his driver's room and the hospitality area. Has he left? You were pretty sure you saw him a few minutes ago.  

How can a person disappear so quickly? you even ask people from other garages and they haven't seen him. 

You tried to call him, but his phone was dead, it didn't even send you to voicemail. 

"Y/n!" You hear someone yell your name and quickly turn your head towards Carlos, he seems out of breath, and you can see his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

"Charles is in my driver's room, I don't know what happened," he said, but that was enough for you to start running towards the Ferrari driver's room. You still shouted a thank you to Carlos and that seemed to have caught the attention of other people who looked at you strangely.

But you did not care about that, you needed it to find Charles and to make sure that he was ready to get into the car. 

You reach the driver's room trying to catch your breath as much as you can, you probably look terrible with hair sticking in your face from how much you've been sweating, you want to kill him for making you suffer like this.

You were now outside Carlos' driver's door and you could hear soft mumbling, was he talking to himself?

You knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer, when you got none you decided to open the door. 

"Charles how can-" you couldn't continue as Charles was lying on the floor with his hands on his head rocking back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, your thoughts of scolding him left you just by seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

You walked as slowly as you could and bent down to his level. You grabbed one of his hands, and that was enough for him to look at you quickly. 

"I'm sorry - I can't, it's going to be like last year," he said quickly, you know from what you heard that last year was not a good one for Charles, the car didn't seem to work for him at all, you didn't know he was that affected by it, and now looking at him you didn't want him to feel that way. 

He's such an amazing person and always so happy and joking with you, but he was hiding a lot of things that had hurt him and you couldn't let that happen.

"Hey, you can do this, okay?" both your hands grab his face and you give him a tiny smile, "I can't..." you shush him and try to get as close to him as you can, were you allowed to hug him? You did not know, but at that moment he probably needed it. 

"Hey, those bad days don't define you, you're amazing and such a talented driver, last year the car wasn't good, let's leave that in the past, okay? This is a new opportunity and you're going to show everyone who Charles is, you're going to make them eat their words, so go and destroy them, champ". 

That seems to make Charles' worries melt away a bit, you told him to take a deep breath with you, and when you felt that he was better you slowly let him go. But that seems to be a wrong move, because when you do, Charles seems to look at you as if you took something away from him, but you ignored it. 

"Okay champ get up, time to make jaws drop with your amazing driving" you joked and you were quite happy because you could see the corner of his mouth move up a bit. 

"Thank you, Mon ange" 

"None of that, we are a team, you and I, remember?" 

He nodded and in that moment he let himself look at you while you smiled at him, he felt as if your smile had the power to melt away his worries leaving behind a feeling of peace, in that moment he was grateful for you, he took a deep breath and let it out, there was nothing to worry about.

He's pretty sure this season will go well with you by his side because you wouldn't leave him, would you?

Scuderia :: @evie-119 @tempo-rary-fix @spookystitchery @boiohboii @halleest @itsjustkhaos @aphroditeisamilf @vicurious28 @lozzamez3 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @heyheyheyggg @teamnovalak @fakeplastiqtree @michelleyw81 @lillyssh-tposts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kqliie @deliciousfestsalad @biitch-with-wifi @xohollie01 @charlesleclerc2003 @loloekie @elliegrey2803 @steamy-smoker @doesnt-care @delululeclerc @vip-access @theseerbetweenus @haikyuen @arian-directioner @marvelfangirl04 @melagem02 @rach3164 @zucchinimalfoy @scopeiguess @landoslutmeout @reiofsuns2001 @badussybumper @nixily @forevercaffeinated-lee @i-wish-this-was-me @gabys-gabs @entr4p3 @trouble-sistar @thef1diary @puttyly @solo2leo @f1and1d4eva @liliummz

Team radio: I hope you like! it I feel I could have done better but English is not my first language but I will do my best to improve, I will keep practicing and improving my writing every day.

charles leclerc boyfriend texts

( bf texts masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★ : pairing :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: crack; mature ★ : a/n :: starting a new series!!

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

Imagine that the reader, Charles, Lando and Carlos randomly get the idea to go to Costco and try some viral food they saw on TikTok so when they go to buy the product, Charles grabs a separate cart and when the guys ask him why if they are only going to buy one thing, he says that the reader always ends up buying too many things and then has nowhere to put them so Charles is used to carrying an extra cart because he knows his girlfriend is a compulsive shopper.

retail therapy

★ : feat :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: fluff; crack ★ : word count :: 1.4k ★ : a/n :: i've had this in my drafts for so long. i'm so sorry love, i unfortunately suck and forget to schedule the post. thanks for the fun request <33

You found yourself in the expansive parking lot of a large store on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon, accompanied by Charles, Lando, and Carlos.

The mission? To grab the viral food product that TikTok had unanimously declared a must-try: Shin Ramyun. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out operation, but Charles had other plans.

”Why'd you grab an extra cart?” Lando asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion as Charles nonchalantly pushed the second cart alongside his own.

”We're only buying one thing,” Carlos chimed in, clearly perplexed.

Charles sighed dramatically, casting a knowing glance at you, who were busily scrolling through your phone to find the exact aisle where the magical ramen resided.

”You guys don't understand,” Charles began, shaking his head as if explaining a basic concept to toddlers before whispering so you wouldn’t catch it. ”Y/N always ends up buying too many things. It's like she has a radar for… unnecessary purchases.”

”Hey!” you protested, looking up from your phone. ”They're not unnecessary. They're uh- useful in unexpected ways!”

”Like the 50-pound bag of gummy bears?” Charles retorted, smirking when he saw your eyes widen. ”Or the industrial-sized jar of pickles you bought last time?”

”They were on sale,” you defended, crossing your arms. ”And you love pickles.”

”I love them in moderation, not in bulk.”

”You take that back, mister!”

Lando and Carlos exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

”So, what's the plan?” Lando asked, eager to get the show on the road.

”Simple,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. ”We go in, get the Shin Ramyun, and maybe... just maybe... see if there are any good deals.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. ”And this,” he said, gesturing to the extra cart, ”is why we can't have nice, quick shopping trips.”

You entered the store, greeted by the overwhelming scent of bulk goods and free samples. You navigated through the aisles, Charles dutifully pushing one carts, while Lando and Carlos alternatively pushed the other.

”Okay, the Shin Ramyun should be in aisle 12,” you announced, leading the way. ”But we should definitely check out the electronics section first. You never know when there's a sale.”

”We're here for food,” Charles reminded you, though his tone was more resigned than stern.

”And electronics,” you added cheerfully. ”Come on, it's right this way.”

Lando nudged Carlos, whispering, ”Ten bucks says our bill will be over two grand.”

”Mate, talk around five and you're on,” Carlos replied with a grin.

Sure enough, as you wandered through the electronics section, your eyes lit up at the sight of a massive flat-screen TV on sale.

”Look at this deal!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ”We could totally use a new TV.”

The boys behind you just shook their heads and to appease them, you slowly started, ”I’m just saying that the bonus I got last week has got to—”

”You guys have a TV,” Lando snickered.

”Yes, but not this TV,” you said, gesturing dramatically. ”Think about movie nights! Think about the sports games! Think about—”

”Think about where we're going to put it,” Charles interrupted, though he was already losing the battle. The allure of a good deal was strong, even for him. You could see it in his eyes that he was already almost convinced.

”Fine,” you huffed anyway, moving along. ”But we're coming back for it if we have room.”

Lando and Carlos exchanged looks, trying to stifle their laughter.

”You guys are a mess,” Carlos said, shaking his head. ”This is better than Netflix.”

”Just wait until we hit the snack aisle,” Lando added, trying to be discreet but you caught it. ”That's when things get really interesting.” He just gave you a nervous cheeky smile in return as you glared.

As you made your way to aisle 12, you inevitably got distracted by various items along the way. A giant jar of Nutella? In the cart. A set of high-end kitchen knives? In the cart. A year's supply of toilet paper? In the cart.

Charles dutifully followed, pushing the now significantly heavier cart with an air of resigned amusement. ”See?” he said to Lando and Carlos. ”This is why I grabbed an extra cart.”

Finally, you reached the aisle with the viral TikTok food product. There it was, Shin Ramyun, in all its spicy glory, stacked high and tempting.

”Here it is!” you said triumphantly, grabbing several boxes and adding them to the cart. ”Mission accomplished.”

”Can we leave now?” Charles asked, though he already knew the answer.

”Not yet,” you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. ”We need to check out the outdoor section. Summer's coming, and we could use some new patio furniture.”

Charles groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. He knew this was just how your trips to the store went. Besides, there was something endearing about your enthusiasm for finding deals and stocking up on... well, everything.

As you wandered through the outdoor section, Lando and Carlos tried out various patio chairs and loungers, providing a running commentary that kept everyone entertained. You found a particularly nice set that you insisted would look perfect in your backyard.

”Think of all the barbecues we could have,” you said, looking at Charles with pleading eyes.

Charles sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ”Fine, but this is the last thing. I mean it.”

”Promise,” you said, kissing him lightly while your friends fake gagged in the background.

You made your way to the checkout, carts overflowing with all manner of items. The staff recognized the boys and immediately started asking for photos and signatures as you guys waited for your turn.

That’s when Charles moved around and squeezed,”Gotta run to the toilet, I’ll be back in two?” He leaned down to whisper.

You shrugged and nodded your head, instead discussing Lando's new apartment with him. Failing to notice how Carlos was nowhere in sight either.

The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she rang up the seemingly endless stream of products.

She was on the last few products when you heard Lando sigh under his breath and as you turned around, you saw Charles and Carlos carrying the box of the TV that you were eyeing.

Your own eyes widened as you jumped up and down and screamed,”No way, I love you!” Charles just snorted as skipped towards him.

He set the TV down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. ”I couldn't resist,” he admitted, his voice soft. ”Your excitement is contagious.”

You beamed up at him, feeling the love and warmth in his embrace. ”You always know how to make me feel loved.”

Charles kissed your forehead, his eyes twinkling. ”Cmon, babe. It’s like breathing for me now”

Lando and Carlos approached, carrying the last few bags and boxes. ”You two are adorable,” Lando teased, nudging Carlos. ”A bit nauseating, but adorable.”

As you left the store, pushing your heavily-laden carts towards the car, Lando and Carlos couldn't help but laugh.

”I owe you ten bucks,” Lando said, nudging Carlos.

Charles wrapping an arm around you. ”What do you think we can do with our old TV?” You smirked before looking over at Lando and Carlos who were loading the car.

”You know the way Lando bought a new apartmen—” Your boyfriend threw his head back and laughed before you could even finish.

”God, baby, I love you! Compulsive shopping and all.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. ”And I love that you always bring an extra cart. Just in case.”

”So, what's the first thing we do with all this stuff?” Carlos asked, squeezing the last box into the trunk.

”Easy,” you said with a grin. ”We head home and have a fun game session with some Shin Ramyun and a movie on our new TV.”

Lando snickered. ”Sounds like the perfect end to a perfect shopping spree.”

”And if anyone asks,” Charles added with a wink, ”this was all part of the therapy. Sometimes, a little retail indulgence is just what the doctor ordered.”

”Retail therapy,” you said, snuggling into Charles as you drove off. ”It's cheaper than real therapy. Sometimes.”

Charles laughed, kissing the top of your head. ”And way more fun.”

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

you're the risk, i'm gonna take it

★ : summary :: your ex wouldn't mind watching with someone new if he was all moved on, right? wrong. ★ : feat :: ex!charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: smut; angst ★ : word count :: 2.3k ★ : tags :: (semi?) public, jealousy, possessiveness, man crying lol ★ : a/n :: me posting smut?? has the world turned upside down? kinda anxious to post this one lol

The air at the charity gala was thick with anticipation and the soft murmur of high society mingling. The grand ballroom sparkled with chandeliers, and the scent of roses hung in the air.

You, draped in a stunning red gown that hugged your curves perfectly, walked in with your head held high.

It was all a ruse, of course. A ruse brought up just for your ex.

It had been three months since you and Charles had parted ways, and you were determined to show him you were doing just fine. Especially since he was already out there with a new girl in his arms.

It was a fatal blow the very first time they were caught at the paddock together. She was one of his old friends that you were always pretty insecure about and to see her with him when you were sure that in a month’s time you and Charles were going to get back together?

It made you want to vomit all over the posh expensive carpet laid under your feet.

You spotted him almost immediately, it was like his head was sticking out just to catch you off guard. Charles stood near the bar, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders.

It made your heart ache and suddenly the carpet wasn’t too good to be puked upon.

He laughed at something and your eyes shifted to the blonde woman beside him. It was still a fresh wound, your breakup, and despite knowing what awaited you, it was hard to maintain a composure for face sake.

That was when you realized that seeing him with someone else was always gonna make you yearn. He was never supposed to be not yours.

”Y/N, hey!” A voice broke your reverie. A smile broke on your face as Lando’s eyes roved over you appreciatively. ”You look hot.”

”Thanks, Lan,” you replied, giving his cheek a soft kiss. You linked your arm through his, grateful for the distraction. ”Let's get something to drink, yeah?”

As you walked deeper into the crowd, you were oblivious to Charles's gaze burning into your back.

You didn't dare turn around, the possibility of disappointment too intense to play a game of chance. You chatted animatedly with Lando, laughing at his jokes and subtly touching his arm.

It was when he leaned in to whisper and you faced the other away that you looked at your ex. Who stood out like a sore thumb, but this time, his eyes were trained on you and his hands were no more on the girl.

Knowing that Charles was watching made a different kind of fire ignite in you, you wanted to make him feel every bit of the jealousy that had gnawed at you for weeks. It was a huge risk, getting your heart broken again. But to hell with it, two can play this game anyway.

Minutes turned into an hour, and every time you glanced in Charles's direction, you found him watching you, his jaw clenched and eyes dark.

His ‘girlfriend’ beside him seemed to be losing his attention, her presence fading into the background as his focus remained fixed on you and Lando.

Lando, suspiciously playing the role of a perfect gentleman, leaned closer again. ”Are you okay, Y/N? You seem... distracted.” His eyes glanced at Charles as he nodded at your ex’ direction.

”I'm fine,” you lied, your eyes flickering back to Charles. He didn’t even acknowledge your date greeting him. That made your stomach drop, but in excitement this instance.

”Still hung up on him, huh?” Lando’s tone was gentle but knowing.

”No, silly, I’m all moved on,” you replied, tilting your chin defiantly and rolling your eyes. ”It was only a year or three right?”

Lando sighed. ”You know, this is a dangerous little gamble. But if it helps...” He pulled you closer, your faces inches apart. ”I'll play along.” He was so close, chest to chest with you and you smirked.

Before you could respond with your own witty accomplice, Lando kissed you softly, his lips warm and soft. It made you feel tingly all over. He didn’t even linger for more than a second, it was more of a peck really. But fuck if you weren’t touch starved.

It didn’t feel right though. It wasn't the same as with Charles, but it served its purpose. When you pulled away, Charles was no longer at the bar. You felt Lando squeeze your hand once before he dragged you to the corner and excused himself to get a drink.

A shiver ran down your spine, a mix of triumph and fear. Everyone saw that and you were alone for the first time all evening. You scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. The ballroom suddenly felt too crowded, the air too thick.

Then you felt a hand on your arm, firm and demanding. You turned to find Charles standing there, his expression a storm of emotions with furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, flared nostrils and a forced smile courting his face.

”Y/N,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. ”We need to talk. Now.”

Lando was back beside you in a second and started to protest,”Mate—” Charles shot him a look that could have melted steel.

”This is between us,” he growled, dragging you away. You barely had time to process before you were pulled away. You looked back and scoffed when you saw Lando shoot you a wink.

A few seconds later you were in a secluded hallway, the noise of the gala muffled by the heavy doors.

What do you think you're doing?” you hissed, yanking your arm free. ”You can't just—”

”Me?!” Charles suddenly screamed, cutting you off as he turned around and pushed your back against the wall.

”Do you think I'm blind?” He continued, his eyes blazing. ”Parading around with him, trying to make me jealous?”

”Why should you care?” you shot back, your own anger rising. It was embarrassing that he saw right through you. ”You have your new little blonde, don't you?”

Charles stepped closer, he backed you further against the wall and his presence was overwhelming. ”What is that supposed to mean?” His voice was a harsh whisper. ”Do you think she means anything to me?”

”Doesn’t she?” your voice wavered, the vulnerability slipping through your anger. It killed you to see him with her for three months and he couldn’t even take it for a few hours?

”No, she doesn’t.” He declared as his jaw tightened further. ”But you... seeing you with him… ” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. ”You have no idea what that does to me.”

”Maybe I do,” you replied, your voice softer now. ”Let’s hear it, Charles. What did that do to you? Couldn’t be worse than if I were to kiss him for three months straight and force you to watc—”

He grabbed you by the shoulders, his grip firm yet tentative, as if he couldn’t even fathom the thought of hurting you,”You want to know how I feel? Fine. I can't stand seeing you with anyone else.” He sounded so broken that it brought tears to your own eyes.

”I can't think straight. All I see is you, every moment. It's driving me mad.” Charles rambled on as he drew in shallow breaths, evidently struggling for air.

”Charles...” Your resolve was crumbling. ”You can’t say that. I thought we were just taking a break and a week later you were all moved on? You don’t deserve to feel bad now”

”She’s not.. We never...” His eyes softened, the anger giving way to raw emotion as he brushed a tear away from your face. ”I thought it was for the best. I thought you'd be happier without me. We were arguing so much and then you said that you were unhappy and it made me want to die.”

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth. ”And now?”

”And now,” he said, his voice breaking, ”Here we are.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of the longing you had both been suppressing. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer.

The hallway seemed to spin around you, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Charles broke the kiss, his breath ragged. ”Tell me you feel the same,” he pleaded. ”Tell me you want this. Me.”

More tears fell down your eyes as you nodded. ”I never stopped wanting you, Charles.”

A strangled sound escaped his throat as he captured your lips again, this time with a fierce, possessive hunger. His hands roamed your back, pulling you tightly against him. You responded with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Your need for each other was palpable, a wildfire that had been waiting to ignite. Charles's kisses trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and eliciting a gasp from your lips. You tugged at his jacket, desperate to feel more of him.

”You look so gorgeous” he murmured against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing. Your breath hitched softly as he sucked at your neck. “Here?”

”Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. ”Here. Now.”

Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He pressed you further against the wall, if that were even remotely possible. His hands slipping under your dress, caressing your thighs and lifting you just enough for your legs to wrap around his waist.

The feel of his hardness pressing against your core sent shivers of anticipation through your body. It was familiar. He was your everything and you felt right at home as you cried tears of frustration out.

Charles kissed your tears away while he held onto your face, caressing the side of your cheekbone with his thumb as a soft sigh escaped your lips.  ”You have ruined me.” He whispered, groaning as he pressed himself harder against you.

With one swift motion, he freed himself from his trousers, his fingers working quickly to get you ready when he scoffed to find you bare underneath the dress. ”I swear to god, if you tell me that you planned to take Lando bac—”

You shook your head and leaned forward to peck his lips. He looked into your eyes, seeking one last confirmation. You answered with another kiss, your tongue dancing with his, your body arching into him.

The first thrust was slow, almost agonizing in its intensity. You both gasped, the sensation overwhelming you as a low groan parted from his lips. Soon enough, Charles set a rhythm, each movement deep and deliberate, making you feel every inch of him.

”Mine,” he panted into your ear, his pace quickening. ”You're mine, Y/N.”

”Yes,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. ”Always— yours, Charles.”

Your bodies moved together as he held you tightly, aching and desperate for the release you’d both been deprived of. He picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours with an animalistic need you couldn’t resist.

With each thrust, each kiss, you rediscovered the connection that had never truly been broken. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other as he pushed you closer to the edge. 

You bit his ear, the action alone causing Charles’s grip to tighten, his movements becoming frantic as he thrust into you harder, faster.

You felt yourself nearing the edge, your trembling thighs tightening around his hips when you felt his hand sneak between your legs, towards where you were connected, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

You clung to him, your entire being focused on the pleasure coursing through you.

”Let it go, darling,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. ”Be a good girl for me.”

The words pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, your body shuddering with release. Charles followed moments later, his own climax crashing through him with a force that left you both trembling.

For a long moment, you stayed entwined, your foreheads resting against each other, your breaths mingling. The hallway was silent except for the sound of your breathing, the intensity of what had just happened settling over you.

Charles finally pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for the affection he thought he’d lost. ”I love you,” he said, his voice hoarse and you winced when his tears dropped down your face as he kissed your forehead. ”I never stopped.”

Your own tears spilled over as your knuckles tightened against his wrinkled shirt. ”Okay.”

You knew he wanted to hear it, but it was too soon, too soon to just flush down the feelings you had to suffer through for the past few months. Too soon to forgive him for the pain he’d caused.

Charles nodded in understanding. He could see the adoration you still held as you latched onto his arm, clinging to him with a white knuckle dying grip as if you were afraid to let go.

He kissed you softly, a promise of the future you would build together. 

And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of your passion, being in his embrace, you knew that you had found your way back. That despite everything that had happened, he still loved you, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. 

After all, he was the only risk, the only what if, you were always gonna leap into head first.

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

“you’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” + “you hear me? Never” with charles dom leclarc🫣😍 thank you!!

“you’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” + “you hear me? never.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where your boyfriend can't survive without tasting you ★:feat:: charles leclerc x reader ★:genre:: smut

"hey baby," charles greets, his lips pressing a soft, sweet kiss to yours. there's a whisper in the air, a low murmur against your skin, "missed you so fucking much."

you smile, a gentle curve of your lips, warmth spreading through your chest. you know charles well, and tonight, you can see that he’s in good spirits. he eats dinner with you, shares stories from the weekend, laughs at your jokes, and all the while, he’s holding your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin.

maybe this weekend wasn’t as hard on him as you thought. he seems relaxed, content even, like the exhaustion of the race hasn't taken its usual toll. perhaps he's just tired, you think, not as touch-starved as you initially assumed. but oh, are you wrong. horribly, horribly wrong.

the only reason he's holding just your hand is because he's afraid he might break before you've even had the chance to finish your meal. he doesn’t care how badly he wants to have you spread out on the bed, lapping at your juices like a starved man. no, you worked hard on this, so he’s holding back, suppressing the urge to snap, letting you believe that he’s unaffected every time you lick your finger or bat your eyelashes at him.

dinner wraps up, and you're none the wiser as you instead try to drive charles to the edge when you bent down in front of him, eyes on him, bottom lip between your teeth. "i know you're tired, but help me wash?" you ask sweetly, your voice carrying that innocent edge that drives him insane. 

the words have barely left your mouth when he’s pulling you up, his grip firm as he walks you toward the kitchen. there’s an intensity in his eyes now, a darkness that makes your breath catch in your throat. he turns on the faucet, but it’s clear that cleaning the dishes is the last thing on his mind.

he pushes you gently against the counter, his body pressing against yours, trapping you between him and the cold, hard surface. the contrast sends a shiver down your spine. his hands are on your hips, firm but gentle, and his lips brush the shell of your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“you’re in no position to tease, baby. remember that.”

the words send a thrill of anticipation through you, your body responding immediately to the change in his tone, “you know that won’t end well for you.” charles isn't usually this assertive, but when he is, it's intoxicating. your breath hitches as his hands slide down your sides, fingertips grazing your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. 

he spins you around, pressing your chest against the counter now, and you can feel the heat of his body behind you, the hard length of him pressing into your lower back. he leans in, his lips brushing your neck, kissing, nibbling, until your knees feel like they might give out, “so responsive.” he drags out, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin.”

“t‘s all for me?”one of his hands slides up to your neck, not gripping, just resting there, holding you in place. his breath against your ear now as he whispers, “i’ve missed this, missed you.” he pauses, his voice dropping even lower. “four days, baby. four days without touching you, without tasting you. do you know how hard that was?”

“missed you,” is all you can mummer and charles tsks from behind you. you shiver, the tone of his voice sending a wave of arousal through you. “charles…” you start again, but he cuts you off, his grip on your neck tightening slightly.

“no,” he drawls. “you don’t get to speak right now.” his other hand slides down your body, fingers skimming your stomach, your hips, before slipping under the waistband of your shorts. you let out a small gasp as he touches you, his fingers finding you already wet, aching for him.

Charles groans softly, the sound vibrating through your skin. “you’re so wet for me already,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “i love how your body responds to me.”

Your boyfriend pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, and they pool at your ankles. his fingers are back between your legs, teasing, stroking, spreading your arousal. you're trembling, anticipation building with every touch, every breathless whisper. “thought you didn’t want this tonight,” you whimpered innocently.

then, without warning, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty,”i never don’t want you.” you tremble against him, but before you can protest, he's on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you back towards him. he’s rougher now, more desperate, and the sudden change in demeanor only makes your desire burn hotter.

“you hear me? never,” he growls, his voice full of raw need. he drags his tongue along your slit, tasting you, and you cry out, your hands clutching at the edge of the counter as your knees buckle when he reaches your clit.

“charles—” you gasp, but your words dissolve into a moan as his tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves again, quick and relentless. he’s devouring you like a man starved, every movement precise, practiced, driving you closer to the edge.

his hands hold you in place, thumbs digging into the flesh of your hips, keeping you exactly where he wants you. his tongue slides inside you, deep and slow, and you can feel yourself clenching around the warm, wet muscle, your body responding instinctively.

“fuck,” you breathe out, the word barely audible over the sounds of his mouth on you. he pulls back slightly, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin before he’s sucking on your clit, hard enough to make your toes curl.

“Charles- hah, please—” you whimper, you start grinding against him, riding his face like a slut, you don’t know, you just need him, need everything he’s willing to give.

“not yet, baby,” he murmurs against you, his voice rough, filled with a dark promise. he’s not done with you, not even close. “i’m going to make you come, but- fuck not yet.” you feel his tiny facial hair against your thigh and that has you shivering instantly.

his tongue is back inside you, his fingers joining in now, two of them sliding in beside his tongue, stretching you, filling you. he’s relentless, not giving you a moment to breathe, not letting you think, just pushing you closer and closer to that edge.

you’re shaking, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter, the pleasure building into something almost unbearable. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls back, his lips leaving your skin.

you’re about to protest, to beg, but then he’s standing up, pulling you up with him, spinning you around so you’re facing him. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and his chest is heaving as he looks at you.

“now,” he says, his voice low and commanding as he spreads you open and pulls your legs over his shoulders, “come. now.”

his hand is between your legs again, fingers circling your clit, and it’s too much, the tension snaps right away, and you’re coming, your body trembling, shaking, as the waves of pleasure crash over you. charles watches you, his eyes never leaving your face, his fingers working you through it, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re slumping against him, spent and breathless.

he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. “you did so well,” he murmurs, his voice soft now, the dominance fading, replaced with tenderness. “so fucking beautiful, baby.”

you’re still shaking, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you feel safe, grounded in his arms. he holds you like that for a long moment, letting you come down, letting you breathe, before he finally speaks again, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

“missed you, y/n,” charles says again, a touch of vulnerability in his voice this time. his lips brushing against your neck and as you finally take in his face, the fact that you did this to him, came on his face so hard that his lips and facial hair are still wet, suddenly has you clenching around nothing. “baby, what ar-” he starts when he sees you start to bend your knees to get down on the ground but you just shush him. Your hand massages him over his pants and your boyfriend throws his head back. “fuck, you’ll be the death of me.”

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

Best friends' brother - Charles Leclerc x reader

Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Summary: You and Arthur Leclerc had been best friends since you were children but it wasn’t the younger Leclerc brother you’d be in the sheets with and a one night stand can hold a lifetime of regret.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, pregnancy, swearing, angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.1K

—

Your heart pounded in your chest as you held onto the pregnancy test. It was one stupid mistake, one stupid, drunk mistake. Charles had finally won in Monaco for the first time which meant the celebrations would last until the sun came up. You and Arthur attended together; you just didn’t leave together. You and Charles evidently spent a lot of time with one another, especially when Arthur was racing. The pair of you would spend hours talking and enjoying one another's presence. You couldn’t lie to yourself that Charles wasn’t attractive, and he evidently thought the same about you. He’d always leave light touches on your waist and his eyes would linger on you just a little too long, yet nothing ever came out of it. Neither you or he would make a move or even mention it, you just acted like everything was normal, that was until the celebrations. 

Everything was fine until you lost Arthur. You scanned the club to find him but you were found by the older Leclerc. His eyes locked onto yours as he snuck his hand around your waist, pulling you into his side. He leant down, his eyes still on you as he held you tighter before connecting his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate, not caring if anyone was watching you two from afar. He dragged you to his hotel room and the rest was history well… so you thought. 

The next morning you woke up to a number of missed calls from Arthur and a sleeping Charles beside you. You left faster than he could drive but part of you wanted to stay, you wished you could have spent the morning in his arms but for Arthurs sake you simply couldn’t. Since that day you’d avoided Charles like the plague although that was easier said than done, especially as he was your best friends' brother, but you managed. That was until Arthur started to notice. 

“y/n?” Arthurs voice filled your flat. Your eyes snapped up from the test in your hands and towards the door. He burst through your bedroom door just as you slipped the test under the duvet. “Where have you been?” He arched his brows, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. 

“I haven’t been feeling well.” Technically that wasn’t a lie. “So I’ve just stayed at home -”

“You’ve never been away from my races, even when you’re ill.”

You shrugged, not wanting to look at him for two long. “I couldn’t stop throwing up, can’t exactly turn up to a race like that.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come round and looked after you. You always looked after me when I was ill.” He smirked, the annoyed expression leaving his face as he moved to sit beside you. Your heart dropped as he sat beside you, hoping he wouldn’t feel the test he was sitting on but your luck didn’t go that far. He rose to his feet once again, scrunching his face up as he pulled the duvet back to see what he’d sat on. 

“Arthur -”

“What the fuck is this?” He snatched the test and held it up. “Is this a…?”

“Yes…” 

He looked down at the test, checking the result. 

Positive. 

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” His eyes met yours. “Because you’re fucking pregant and didn’t want me finding out?” 

“I just found out Arthur!” You found your voice. “Look I just felt sick so I stayed away thinking it was a bug and then my period was late so I had to check…”

“Who’s the dad?” 

He asked the one question you forever wished you could avoid. 

You didn’t answer, your eyes welling up with tears when you knew you had to answer his question. It wouldn’t be hard to lie to him but everything would come to light and you knew it. Charles was his brother and even if you lied to Charles he would know that it was his kid. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more because before you could answer him a sudden knock at the door grabbed your attention. 

“Bet that’s the dad.” Arthur said, no emotion in his voice as he went to answer the door. “So what is he a secret boyfriend you’ve kept from me?” He looked back at you before he opened the door only to be met with the worried expression of his older brother. 

“Is y/n here?” Charles asked just as you walked up behind his brother. 

Arthurs eyes squinted at his brother, his face going back to its confused expression. “Why are you here?” 

“Arthur!” You snapped at your best friend. 

Charles coughed nervously as he looked between the two of you. He’d always wondered if something was secretly happening with the two of you but the night you’d slept with him confirmed to him that you were all his well, he wished you were. 

“Just came to see y/n -”

“Why?” Arthur leant against the door, still now allowing his brother to enter your flat. “You see her at the races -”

“That’s the point.” Charles looked at him like he was an idot. “I haven’t seen her since she left mine in Monaco.” Charles didn’t mean to let it slip but it was too late to take it back now. 

“Left yours?” Arthur arched his brow. “What the night of the party?” He quickly looked back at you and then back at his brother as he suddenly connected the dots. 

Ever since the celebrations in Monaco you hadn’t gone near Charles. If he came over to the pair of you in a rare occasion that you had turned up to the track you would always find an excuse to leave before he could utter a word to you. 

Arthur suddenly spun on his heels, looking at you before yelling. “Is it him?” His tone made you jump slightly. “Is he the dad?”

“The dad?” Charles looked over to you before he too connected the dots. “Are you…?”

“It is you!” Arthur turned back to face his brother. “It was the night you won wasn’t it?” 

“Arthur…” Charles went to speak but was suddenly stopped. 

“Everything I have you want, I am always in your shadow and you know that!” Arthur was close to tears himself. “She’s my friend Char not yours…”

“I’m still your friend Arthur, nothings changed -” Your voice was soft but Arthur didn’t care. 

“Yes it has! You went and fucked my brother and now you’re pregnant with his kid!” His eyes filled with tears. “I trusted you y/n, I told you everything about me, we never lie to one another, we made that promise when we were kids… you know how much it hurts to be in his shadow all the time, just once I wanted something for myself, even if that was just a best friend and now I don’t even have that.” He didn’t wait for you or Charles to speak. He shoved Charles out of the way and stormed out of your building.

It was now your turn to cry, not caring if Charles was still in front of you. He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapped around you as he kissed the top of your head, soothing you as you cried into his shirt. “It’ll be okay.” He mumbled. “I promise you.”

He hated seeing you upset. His feelings for you had grown far beyond a one-night stand or the girl that turned up to every single race, but you were off limits. You were his brother's best friend; someone he knew he could never be with but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He would happily let Arthur ignore and hate him for however how long it took just so he could have you.

“No Charles.” You pulled your head back to look up at him. “It won’t be. I can’t break you and Arthur apart, I can’t -”

“You haven’t broken me and Arthur apart, he’ll get over it -”

“No Char he won’t.” You stepped away. “He’s right he’s always been in your shadow. He just wants to race alongside you in Formula 1. He needs you more than he needs me, and I refuse to be the one that breaks that bond between you both. He won’t just get over it, he never just gets over things -”

“Are you trying to tell me you know more about my own brother than I do?”

“Yes I am!”

“Oh come on you just turn up to watch him race every week -”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” You sent a glare in his direction, one he knew he deserved.

“When did you find out?” He changed the subject. 

“Today.” Your eyes met his. “Just before Arthur came over.” You leant against your kitchen sink. “He sat on the test and that’s how he found out.” Your eyes looked over to the test sitting on the kitchen counter that Arthur had dumped as he opened the front door. Charles made his way over to the test, taking it in his hands to see the results for himself.

“I don’t want a kid, not now -”

“You and me both Leclerc but I can’t just get pregant on my own can I?” You ran a hand through your hair. “This was all a mistake, we should have never of spent the night together, if I could take it back then I would.” 

Your words killed him. Sure, he didn’t want a child yet but that didn’t mean he didn’t want one in the future. But he also didn’t want you to regret spending the night with him, for Charles if he could relive the moment again, he would. He wanted it to happen again and again, he even planned to be with you but hide it from Arthur. He had the perfect life with you all planned out in his head but clearly things weren’t meant to be. 

“Do you really mean that?” He looked down at you, fighting back every word he wanted to say. “Would you take everything back? You and I?”

“We would never work Charles. It was never meant to be… it was a bit of fun that went wrong.” Your eyes met his. “Nothing more.”

“Fine.” He nodded, setting the test down. “Are you keeping it?” 

“I don’t know -”

“When you’d made up your mind let me know.” His eyes looked almost glass like as the tears slowly filled his eyes. “If you keep it, I’ll pay child support, but I don’t want anything to do with it.” He left without another word, he hated himself for it.

He didn’t mean it. He wasn’t lying about not wanting a kid now but that didn’t mean he’d want to leave his child without a father and leave you without support. He just knew how stubborn you could be and how you wouldn’t change your mind about walking out on the two of them, so the brothers still had one another. Charles needed time and he knew you needed time too. He planned to find Arthur and tell him how he felt about you, he needed to tell him everything and mend what had been broken to prove to you things can work but you had other plans. You couldn’t break the brothers apart and with you not around you hoped they’d forget about what had happened and move on with their lives. Not wanting to pick between them you got up and left, everything you once owned came with you and you left Monaco. 

It was probably a stupid decision just to pack everything and leave but, in the moment, it felt right and sometimes you just have to go with your gut when it comes to certain things and that was one of those times. You’d moved to England, more specifically a small village in the north of England, hopefully somewhere where no one knew who you were and luckily for you they didn’t.

The village was mainly home to elderly residents and a few small families. It was quiet and out of the way with a good community, the perfect hideaway for you and your son. You now lived in one of the cottages that overlooked the river which flowed through the streets. It was so different to Monaco but in the best way possible. Looking down at your son who was fast asleep in his cot you couldn’t help but regret the words you’d said to Charles. How could you ever regret having your son? 

Charles crossed your mind everyday, so did Arthur but things were for the best. You would secretly look at their Instagram accounts on a burner account and noticed the two posting photos of one another and filming eachother for their stories. They had healed what had happened. Arthur wouldn’t forget what happened but he could forgive his brother with time and it’s clear to see that time healed them both. 

What you didn’t know was that you crossed the brothers minds everyday too. Charles kept a photo of you in his helmet so no matter how far away you really were you would always be close to him. He often found himself wondering if you had a boy or a girl and if they had your eyes or his nose. It pained him more than he thought it ever would seeing other drivers with their children and their wives, he wanted that. 

“If you keep staring you might not ever look away.” Arthur had caught Charles doing just that. He was staring at Checo and his children, smiling at the way he placed his helmet on their tiny heads. 

“You still think she had a girl?” Charles asked his brother. 

“Definetly, you still team boy?”

“I know it’s a boy.” Charles smiled, tearing his attention away from Checo and his family. “It’s been over a year now, if he came on time, he’d be eight months old now.” He looked at Arthur. “I need to find her.”

“We will.” He gave his brother a reassuring smile. “But if y/n doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. We always said we’d never lie to one another, but she was good at lying, the best poker face I’ve ever seen.” Arthur thought fondly of the memories. If only he could go back and change the past.

“Mr Leclerc?” A voice grabbed the brothers attention. They spun around to meet the eyes of an older woman. She smiled at them both, looking at them as if they were long lost family members. 

“Which one?” Arthur asked. 

“Both of you!” Her voice lit up. “I presume you two know who y/n y/l/n is?” 

Both brothers shared a glance of urgency before looking back at the women before them. “Yes!” They spoke in unison. 

“Good, I thought I’d gotten the wrong sport!” She laughed to herself. 

“What do you know about y/n?” Charles asked, his voice filled with worry. 

“Don’t sound so worried! She’s fine! She’s my neighbour!” The two boys had a million and one questions but the woman beat them to it. “I’m Margaret.” She held her hand out for the two of them to take. “She lives in England. We’ve grown rather close since I’ve been babysitting the little one for her whilst she has some time for herself. She spoke about you two and I knew I recognised your names somewhere. She would kill me if she knew I was here but… I lost the love of my life over a mistake, and I can’t watch her do the same.” 

Margaret was in fact your neighbour. She helped move you into your new home and was also the woman who bought you Leo, your dog. He’d been trained by a local farmer to put your mind at ease whilst you lived alone before your son arrived. Due to her kindness, you often opened up to her about your life. You told her about Arthur and Charles, something you hadn’t told anyone else before. 

Margaret understood your pain as she to lost those close to her. She fell in love with someone she knew her parents would never approve of and instead of standing up for them she let them go, letting the love of her life be belittled by her family and never keeping them close to her and she knew she couldn’t let you do the same thing. 

She told them everything including where you now lived. Charles didn’t waste a second, ignoring the fact that he still had to race that afternoon he threw his helmet to the side, telling Ferrari to tell the press he was sick and needed the reserve driver to take over for this weekend. 

“Are you coming?” Charles called after Arthur as he started to leave the paddock. 

“No.”

“What?” Charles spun around and stopped in his tracks. “Arthur I thought -”

“She needs to see you more than me.” He gave him a light smile. “She had your child, not mine and that kid needs you. Tell her how you feel, not just for her sake but for mine. Fed up with you complaining about how much you like her.” 

Charles pulled his brother into a quick hug. “Thank you.” 

Whilst Charles was on his way to you, you were wrapping up to brace the English autumn weather to take Leo for a walk. You wrapped your son up so he wouldn’t be cold before lowering him into his pram. Leo placed his head onto the pram, looking down at the small boy. Smiling you pet his head as you threw your coat and scarf on. “Good boy.” You praised the dog as you grabbed his lead and harness and leaving the house.

You glanced over at Margaret's cottage yet never saw her in the small front window, knitting away some sort of blanket for your son or even one for Leo. “Must be out.” You muttered to yourself before pushing the pram towards the trail in the woods. You would never get used to a view like this, the way the golden leaves danced through the sky before hitting the ground. It was such a simple sight but after flying from country to country due to the Leclerc brothers you never got to experience anything like this. 

Leaning down slightly you let Leo off the lead when the two of you had entered the woods, letting the dog sprint around to his heart desires but he always kept close to you, just in case. Smiling down at your son you took out your phone to take a photo of the boy. He had his dad’s eyes and your nose. A perfect mix of the two of you. 

“y/n!” A sudden voice grabbed your attention, a voice you knew all too well. Turning around you met the face of Charles Leclerc. He was jogging up to you, something Leo saw as a threat. The German Shepherd dropped his ball and ran towards you, standing in front of you he lunged at Charles, barking and growling at the man before him. 

“Leo down.” You held his harness, pulling him back slightly. The dog stood back but kept his attention onto the stranger ahead of him. 

“Since when did you get a dog?” Charles was breathing heavily, his face terrified of the animal.

“Since I lived alone.” You met his worried gaze. “How did you find me?” 

“I didn’t stop looking since you left, nor did Arthur.” 

“Is he here?”

“No but he’s coming… I promise you he’ll be here.” Your sons cry grabbed your attention, still holding onto Leo you looked back at the boy. 

“Oh baby it’s okay.” Your free hand carefully scooped him up, placing him against your chest you started to rock him back and forth as best you could whilst holding onto your dog so he didn’t attempt murder on Charles. “Shh… shh…”

Charles felt time stop. His heart burting with pride at the sight of the woman he loved his son before him. “Is that -”

“He’s yours Charles.” You smiled at him.

“He?”

“Hmm, you have a son.” 

“Arthur owes me a lot of money.” 

“Sorry?” 

“We had a bet… if he was a girl or a boy, I said boy, he said girl.” 

You arched your brows at the man. “You two haven’t changed.” You looked back at your son. “Do you want to hold him?”

His face softened. “I’d want nothing more.” Charles stepped closer, still weary of your dog as you handed the child to his father. Anyone who walked past the two of you would have thought he’d been there since day one, he was a natural to this. “What did you name him?”

“Rowan.” You smiled, putting Leo back on his lead. “He has your eyes.”

“And your nose.” Charles smiled before he looked back at you. “Why did you leave?”

“You said you didn’t want a baby-”

“That doesn’t mean you had to leave.”

“I didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to be a part of his life which meant not being a part of mine. Arthur hated me which meant I had lost you both and that was something I couldn’t live with. You know how small Monaco is, I knew I’d see you two at one point and I couldn’t face you two after that so I left. Moved here and now I’m never going back to Monaco, I’m raising Rowan here, I needed a new start and travelling around the world isn’t a life for a child.”

“Then I’ll move here.” His voice was full of urgency. “For over a year I could never stop thinking about you. I have always liked you and I just thought it was because of how you bullied my brother, the way you always knew everything about motorsports, I loved it. It was only when we grew up with one another I knew I loved you. I can’t apologise for everything that happened when you fell pregnant. I should have been with you through the pregnancy, throughout everything. When I said I didn’t want a child, I meant right now. I panicked and when Arthur and I spoke everything through you were already gone.” 

He held his son close to him, holding his right hand out as he balanced Rowan in his left. Taking his hand into yours you stepped closer to him. “I lied to you the last time we spoke.” He was taken back by your words but continued to listen. “I don’t regret spending the night with you, I don’t regret anything we did and I do love you.” 

“Neither do I.” He leant down, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But now I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good because I really need someone to feed him during the night, he’s teething and I need sleep.” 

Charles laughed, this time dipping his head down to capture your lips into his. The kiss was far overdue. Your lips were sweet against his own, a taste he always wanted to feel. His hand left yours and cupped your cheek, pulling you closer into his chest as best he could without disturbing Rowan. He deepened the kiss as you got closer, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip when you pulled away for a breath. 

“Please never leave again.” He muttered against your soft lips. 

“I won’t.” Your eyes met his. “I promise.” Charles leaned in again but jumped at a sudden loud bark. Leo narrowed his eyes at the brunette, if he could talk you knew he’d yell at Charles like he was a disobedient child. 

“I’m not putting up with him.” Charles backed away from the animal.

“Oh he’s fine.” You dropped to your knees so the dog could rest his head on your chest, wagging his tail a you gave him all the attention in the world. “He just needs to get used to you.”

“Margret never mentioned him…”

“Margret?” You looked up him, curiosity on your face. “How do you know who she is?” 

His eyes widened at his own words. Shit. “Probably shouldn’t have said that…”

Pit Lane - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Charles Leclerc x verstappen!reader

Requested? Yes/No - hello 🫀Could I request one that reader is Max Verstappen sister and is dating Charles. She isn’t a driver but is always in the pits for them.She suffers from asthma and in one career she has a really bad attack thats ends with her fainting and in the hospital because she couldn’t breath. Maybe it could be because her inhaler is empty and she didn’t have the time to get more.Would love to see how her brother,  boyfriend, dad, friends (the drivers) reacts to the news

Thank youuu 🫂💕

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, mentions of accidents, Jos Verstappen if that counts…

Word Count: 6.2K

—

Max was as overprotective as they come so when it came to light that you were dating his childhood rival and rival on the track he wasn’t exactly pleased. You were having a family dinner at your Mum’s when she asked you to quickly grab her a fork, obliging you left the table and also your phone by your seat. You were sitting beside Max who saw your phone screen light up as you left. Glancing over he saw a certain someone had sent you a text. 

Char <3: Enjoy spending time with your family mon amour, I’ll call you when you’re home x

Max quickly snatched your phone from its spot just as you walked back into the dining room to catch him. His face was flooded with anger at the text he’d just read, something you picked up on the second you walked back into the room. Your brows furrowed as you spoke. 

“What?” His eyes met yours at the sudden sound of your voice. “Why do you have my phone?”

“Why is Leclerc texting you?” He asked in a bitter tone. 

“Sorry?” You tried playing dumb but Max could always see through your lies. 

“Don’t lie to me!” He spat, holding your phone up. “Why the fuck is he calling you ‘love’? Are you two -”

“Max now is not the time.” Your Mum cut him off, staring at the two of you. “y/n just sit down, come on let’s just eat. It’s rare I get the three of you here for dinner at the same time.” 

Victoria gave you a look, she knew. When you were younger Max went to stay with your Dad so he could pursue his Formula 1 career whereas Victoria stayed with your Mum. You were the odd one out. Max and you were always close, since the day you were born he’d always looked after you, he did the same with Victoria but he was just that little bit more protective of you but he had a reason to be. Being only seven you ended up staying with your Mum until you turned eighteen when you were finally reunited with Max for good. 

Max quickly learnt a few drivers had taken a liking to you, especially Charles and Pierre. You’d met Charles before when he and Max would kart together. As a kid Max hated Charles, always complaining that Charles kept trying to push him off the track but as the two grew older they learnt to put their bitterness aside. You knew deep down that Max and Charles still had that rivalry, especially as they were now competing to be World Champions. 

Moving in with Max meant going to every single one of his races, which also meant seeing Charles every single week. Normally he would always be accompanied by Pierre Gasly, a man who would flirt with anyone that took a breath whereas Charles was more subtle. It started out with small talk and then he’d show up to the post-race celebrations, get you away from Max so you could have a conversation that wasn’t just ‘hey, how are you?’. Conversations at the club turned into sneaking around with one another in hotels and the rest is history. 

Max was yet to know about you and Charles. The pair of you had kept your secret from him for eight months. It hurt to keep it away from him, he was your older brother and the one person in the family that you could actually tell everything to well, everything but this. You knew if Max found out he’d lose his shit and you knew he wasn’t the cleanest driver on the grid at times. Part of you worried that if he found out he’d pull off a stupid stunt on the track and land the two of them in the hospital so you kept it from him. 

“I’m not sitting here and eating fucking potatoes when my sister clearly has something going on with Charles Leclerc!” Max screamed, standing up and shooting you a glare. “What is going on between you and Leclerc?” 

“Max please just calm down -” Your Mum spoke. 

“Calm down? She’s been lying to my face!” He took a deep breath. “How long?” 

You didn’t want an argument but you knew it would come eventually. “Eight months -”

“Eight fucking months?” His words were bitter. “Eight fucking months and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You’d lose your shit if you knew! You can be such an idiot on that track and I don’t want you pulling some pathetic stunt that gets both of you killed!” You spat back. 

“It’s not me you have to worry about crashing, that prat can’t even finish a race!” 

“Don’t you dare start insulting him, not when he’s only ever spoken good things about you in the media unlike some of those drivers on the grid!” 

“Yeah now I know why! He only done it to please you!” He ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe my own sister would go around with the man who’s considered my rival, you might as well be dating Lewis Hamilton!” 

“Max that’s enough!” Your Mum snapped. “Both of you!” 

“So is that where you’ve been going when you tell me you’re going to y/b/f’s house for the weekend? You’ve been with him? All those nights you stayed out late and asked me not to wait up, you were with him, weren’t you?” 

“Of course I was Max!” Tears and panic were filling your body at the sight of Max’s rage.

“Why him y/n?” His voice now turned to pain. “Anyone but a shitty driver on the grid.” He slumped back down in his chair as you spun on your heel and left the room, feeling yourself getting short of breath you pushed your mother's bedroom door open and sat on the edge of your bed, trying to calm your breathing but nothing would work. Reaching for your inhaler you were able to steady yourself, calming yourself to the point of not feeling short of breath. 

“He’s such a dickhead.” The voice of your sister caught your attention. She gave you a warm smile as she sat beside you, noticing your inhaler in your hand. “You need to take it easy, stress makes your breathing worse and you know that.”

“Rather hard when your brother starts screaming at you like that.” You leaned your head on her shoulder, closing your eyes as she wrapped her arm around you. 

“I know but you know Max, can’t control his emotions to save his life… thank god he was never born a woman, imagine if he had a period every month.” You smiled at her words, letting out a light laugh. “Don’t worry about him, Charles is a decent guy. Mum likes him and Dad has always said he’s a good driver which automatically means he respects him. It’s just Max you’ll have to work on.”

“And what do you think of him?” You looked up at her. 

She shrugged with a small smirk on her face. “You think you could set me up with Pierre now you and Charles are together?”

You laughed at her words before speaking. “I think Max would kill us.”

“Maybe so but I don’t think Mum would let him.” 

Victoria continued to calm you down, meanwhile, your Mum was giving Max a lecture, almost like he was a child. 

“Did you need to do that?” She set the food aside and gave Max a glare. 

“I don’t want her around him -”

“Max she’s twenty-one, not a child. She can make her own decisions.”

“I’ve seen how some of these drivers act, I don’t trust them.”

“Does Charles act like that?” 

Max pondered on the thought. “No…”

“Then why are you so uptight about all of this?” 

“Because he might be like that.”

“Then that’s her lesson to learn. I’ve met him far too many times and even I can tell you that he’s not like that. He clearly cares about her and he was raised to be a polite and smart lad. You know that.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Doesn’t give you the right to yell at her like that. She’s clearly happy with him, don’t you want that for her?”

“Of course I do.” Max gave her a sad expression. “But I want her to be safe.”

“Max,” Your Mum took his hand into hers, smiling at him as she spoke. “I know you care for her especially as she was always there for you at your races and when I and your father split it was hard on you both but you know deep down she isn’t going anywhere. He won’t take her away from this family, she’s still your baby sister.”

Max knew she was right but it was still hard for him. He missed being around his family and all he wanted was for all of you to be as close to one another as possible but that would never happen. People move on, Victoria already had and that pained him knowing everyone was slowly growing apart. With your parents split he never got to have what most children did, he never got to have dinner with the family every night, he never got to go on family days out or even just stay inside and watch a film with one another. It was something so small but something he so desperately longed for. 

When it was clear that Max wanted to be a racing driver he never got a day off. He always had to train and that meant leaving you, his Mum and Victoria. So when you made the decision to move in with him he was over the moon. His Mum visited more and you were by his side. He had his family back, maybe not how he wanted but it was enough for him but the thought of you moving away to be with Charles meant he wouldn’t see you, Victoria or his Mum as often. His head just swarmed itself with the memories of being left with his Dad at eleven, no Mum or sisters by his side.

Max didn’t sat anything else, he only nodded, knowing his Mum was right he got up and made his way towards her bedroom. Softly knocking on the door he waited for you or Victoria to give him the all-clear to enter. His heart ached at the sight of you clutching your inhaler, a clear sign he’d set your asthma off. 

“Can I speak to y/n?” He directed his question to Victoria. 

“If you don’t plan on screaming at her then I don’t see a problem with it.” 

“I’m not.” 

Victoria looked down at you, waiting for the nod of approval from you. A silent signal that you were happy to speak to Max. She lifted herself from the bed, glaring at her older brother before leaving the two of you to talk. 

Max shuffled into the room, a glum expression on his face as he sat beside you. “Did you need to use it?” He pointed to the inhaler. You only nodded, making a surge of guilt fly through him. “I’m sorry I just… I just don’t want this family to fall apart -”

“And you think Charles Leclerc is going to make us fall apart?” You arched your brows at him. 

“No, but it’ll play a part. You know all I ever want to do when I have free time is just relax with you, Mum and Victoria.”

“And Charles and I dating is going to suddenly stop that?”

He huffed in frustration as he tried to get his words out. “No, but it means I won’t see you as much anymore. It means it’ll be harder to get everyone round for dinner as you’ll always be out with him, Victoria is always travelling -”

“Max I’m not going to just get up and walk out of your life. Do you not think I feel the same way too? I never got to see you and Dad as much as I wanted to as a kid and now I see the pair of you pretty much every day. Yes if Charles and I move in together I won’t see you every day but I’ll still be at every single race. I’ll still be living in the same area as you. It’s not like he’s going to lock me away from ever seeing you again.”

“Are you happy with him?” Max suddenly looked down at you, changing the subject slightly. 

“I am, Max.”

“And do you love him?”

“I do.”

“Does he love you?”

“He says he does, every single day so I bloody hope it’s true.” Max broke a small smile at your words, following Victoria's actions he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side. 

“Then I’ll allow it. Can’t promise I won’t start a fight or let the two of you hold hands around me but I’ll allow it.”

“Oh glad I’ve got the permission of my brother.” You smirked at him before breaking into a smile. 

“Just wait till Dad finds out.”

“I plan to never tell him, he doesn’t need to know.” 

“Yeah, good luck.” Max laughed knowing that if he reacted like that then Jos would hit the roof. 

That all happened a few months ago. Jos did find out but thankfully Max was there to ease everything. He didn’t lose his shit as much as you had expected him to but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of his daughter dating a Formula 1 driver, especially one who drove for a rival team but Charles had managed to survive a dinner with your family which meant things were destined to last. 

—

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Charles hummed as his hand smoothed down your hair. You were laying on his chest as the sun from the outside world made your hotel room glow like gold. Today was the day of the French Grand Prix, a race Charles was hopeful about. 

“Me too.” You replied, your hand tracing his chest before looking up at him. “How are you feeling about today?”

“Confident.” He replied, a small smile on his face. “I think I can win it today if I get a good start and we can actually get our strategy right then I can put some distance between us and Red Bull.” He looked down at you, his smile turning to a smirk. “Or you could tell Max to lay off me just this once.”

Laughing at his reply you let your head fall onto his chest before replying. “Not sure if that would work, he already isn’t your biggest fan.” 

Charles moved his hand and used it to move your face to look at him again. “So? His sister is.” He leant down and took your lips into his. He’d never get bored of the feeling of having you in his arms with your lips on his. He let his tongue slide across your bottom lip as he spare hand went to your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you were now straddling him as the kiss deepened. He tugged on your bottom lip, loving the way you softly moaned at the sensation.

You pulled away from the kiss slightly as you felt his hands begin to trail up your thighs. “You have a race to get to.”

“We’ve got some time-”

“Hardly any.” You muttered against his lips. 

“We've had less before and we made it work… besides…” He brushed your hair out of your face. “It’ll be my good luck charm.”

“I thought I was that.” 

“You are, I just might need a little extra luck looking at the state of our strategy.” Laughing against his lips you melted into his touch as he leant up and flipped the two of you over. He ducked his head down and began to kiss your neck. Your eyes glanced over to the clock beside the bed. 

He was right, you had time. 

—

You watched as Charles took his helmet into his hands, looking down and smiling at the photo of you and him tucked inside the padding before meeting your soft y/e/c eyes. “You always look so worried when I’m about to get into the car.” He pouted at your expression. He always hated seeing you like this. The thought of having your brother and boyfriend taking part in one of the most dangerous sports in the world which was responsible for so many deaths caused your anxiety to spiral. Something Charles unfortunately knew all too well.

“Just be safe please.” 

Charles walked towards you, setting his helmet aside he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “You know I will.” He pecked your lips. “I will always come back, I can promise you that.” His eyes scanned your face, he would never get bored of seeing how your eyes would look up at him with such love. 

“You better.”

“I will.” This time the kiss felt different, it always did before a race. It was always a silent promise that he would come back to you, no matter what happened out there. “I’ll meet you at the garage when the race is over.” 

You nodded, the two of you sharing one last kiss before he stepped away and put his helmet on. “Good luck Char.” You leant up to kiss the top of his helmet before you turned away to join your family at the Red Bull garage.

“y/n!” You turned back to the man dressed in red. Charles was jogging up to you, slipping his helmet off before pressing his lips onto yours once again. He cupped your jaw as he deepend the kiss, he smiled against your lips as he pulled back, missing the sweetness of your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled back as you kissed him again, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, teasing him after the antics of the morning. Charles wanted more but he couldn’t. Not yet anyway. The pair of you pulled back eventually. Charles blew you one last kiss as you left him. “Please be careful!”

“I will mon amour!” He called back, his head turning to see you walk away. 

“You know,” A Spanish accent filled the air. “I can’t decide if you two make me want to be sick or if you two are just cute together,” Carlos smirked at Charles who was clearly smitten with the Verstappen girl. 

“You sound like her brother.” He replied, glancing over his shoulder one last time only to see that you’d already gone to find your brother. No matter how long or how much you loved Charles you made one promise to yourself and that was to watch the race from the Red Bull garage. Max was still your brother and the one person who’d be there if things ever fell apart. 

“Afternoon y/n.” Christain Horner welcomed you as you made your way through the groups of mechanics to find your family. 

“Hello, Christian.” You smiled back at the man. 

“Did you ask your boyfriend to have a shit start so we could get some pace on him?”

“Think you might struggle this time around, he seems pretty confident and Ferrari seem to have a set plan for this race.”

“Can always rely on you for insider information.” Max’s voice snatched your attention. He opened his arms for a hug, an action you quickly obliged with. “Wonder what he’d think if he found out you were telling us all their secrets!” He joked as the two of you shared a hug. 

“What can I say? I clearly have a favourite.” You went along with his words although Max knew as much as you loved him and always showed your brother endless support that you would much rather see Charles win a World Championship than him. 

“You should do, he’s your brother.” Jos quickly joined the conversation, pulling you away from your brother for a hug. 

“Hello to you too Dad.” You hugged him back before Max spoke again. 

“How’s he feeling? Confident?”

“As always.” You replied. “And you?”

“Easy win.” He winked before breaking into a small laugh. “It’ll be a challenge as always but if we get a good start, do our pitstops in a smart way then I can’t see why we can’t be on the podium.” 

“I can’t see why you can’t finish in P1 today.” Your Dad joined in, making you and Max share a quick look. 

As much as Jos cared for you and your sister he always seemed to have a different attitude towards Max. As you got older you began to understand he was living his dream through him. Jos wasn’t good enough for Formula 1 but Max was. He’d already won a Championship and was set to win many more in his career. The treatment your Dad gave to Max was beyond unfair but Max hadn’t known anything else. The pair of you would often talk about it but Max refused to ever admit that Jos was in the wrong, he just thought that was how a Dad was supposed to be. 

“You’ve got Charles for competition so maybe aim for P2.” You quickly spoke, trying to brush off the harsh words of your father. 

“Don’t think I can do it?” Max pretended to look offended. “My own sister turning against me for Charles Leclerc!” He placed his hand on his chest. “Maybe you should go watch the race with Ferarri.”

“Oh shut up.” You shoved him slightly as Max made his way to the car. “Be safe.”

“I’ll try.” He smiled as he grabbed his helmet, waving at you one last time as you and Jos joined Victoria to watch the race unfold. 

Charles had started well. You had to try your best not to celebrate in front of the Red Bull mechanics and your family but your joy didn’t last. In the eighteenth lap just after Red Bull had completed an incredible pit stop your heart sank. The camera suddenly cut to someone in the wall and then your boyfriend's name was mentioned. You saw his number proudly against the car, you didn’t need a commentator to confirm your fears. 

Charles didn’t move for a few seconds and in a fit of fear you threw your headphones off as you felt your heart race and your breathing increase which meant you missed his radio confirming that he was in fact okay. Your eyes fell onto the screen again and Charles was still not moving, the camera cut away, a sign that was never good in Formula 1. 

Victoria picked up on your distress immediately. Growing up alongside you she always knew when an asthma attack was on the rise. Stress and panic always grew when you watched races, you knew you should stay away from the sport when your nerves were on the rise but you couldn’t do that to Max and Charles. 

“y/n…” Victoria grabbed your forearm, pulling you away from the small crowd of people watching the race. “It's okay, he’s okay…”

“He didn’t move -”

“He’s probably in shock, he’ll be okay. It wasn’t a bad crash -”

“It doesn’t need to be.” Your voice was failing you as your chest started to ache. Victoria grabbed your bag from around your shoulder, sensing you needed your inhaler she pulled it out of your bag, handed it to you and directed your hand to mouth but when you pressed the silver button nothing happened. Hers and your eyes widened at the lack of sound indicating that the device had worked. “Shit… I forgot…” 

Before every single race, Charles always asked you to check your inhaler and make sure it wasn’t running low. He couldn’t even begin to think of what would happen if something went wrong when he wasn’t around. He knew how important it was, especially if either you or Max got hurt or into a collision. He also always kept a spare on him just in case you needed it and you had left it behind. The only problem was Charles was climbing out of his crashed car with no inhaler on him. 

Victoria knew she had to think fast or you would end up in serious trouble. She screamed for Jos who wasn’t paying much attention, too focused on the race until he saw his youngest daughter clutching her chest as she sunk to the floor. Forgetting that Max was now on his way to winning another race he called for help, alerting a steward of what was taking place. Within seconds the ambulance team was in the Red Bull garage attending to you. 

Meanwhile, Charles was on the side of the track, screaming in frustration at his mistake. With his head in his hands, he sobbed his heart out. Through teary eyes, he looked down at his helmet and saw the photo of the two of you. He knew you’d be waiting for him when he got back, waiting to take the pain away and that was all he needed right now. 

If only he knew. 

“Mr Leclerc you need to go to the medical tent.” One of the safety managers called over to him as he stormed back to the garages. Anger was still running through his veins at what had happened. 

“Fuck off I’m fine.” He took a deep breath as he walked into the garage. 

“You may feel fine but you need to be checked over, it’s an FIA rule, please -”

Charles scanned the garage yet couldn’t find you. Despite always watching the races in the Red Bull garage you would always leave the second anything happened to him on the track. You would always be waiting at the Ferarri garage for him or you’d meet him at the medical tent if the team had been told that he was sent there. “Where’s y/n?” He ignored the man's pleas. 

“She isn’t here.” A mechanic spoke. “Hasn’t turned up.” 

Charles scrunched his face up in confusion. “She isn’t in my room?”

“We would have seen or heard her.” Another mechanic spoke. She hasn’t come here. Maybe she’s still at Red Bull.”

“But she always comes here.” 

“Maybe she saw you get out and decided to stay and watch her brother win.” The mechanic turned his gaze to the television mounted on the wall. Charles followed his gaze to see Max Verstappen leading the race but it still didn’t make sense. You’d seen him crash a fair few times and saw him get out of the car safely yet you always came here, even if Max was winning. 

Charles didn’t say anything as he left the Ferrari garage and headed down to the Red Bull garage. Your relationship was public so he knew if cameras were following him closely it wouldn't spark rumours that he was attempting to sign with Red Bull to escape Ferrari. 

“Is y/n here?” He announced to no one in particular. A few mechanics and friends of Max and Checo looked around at one another, unsure whether they should tell Charles what had just happened. The brunette picked up on their uncertainty almost instantly. “What?”

Checo’s wife took her headphones off and gestured for Charles to follow her. He quickly followed the woman, his concern growing. Making sure the pair of them were away from prying ears she spoke. “She saw you crash and the panic got to her -”

“Has she just gone back to the hotel?” Charles quickly asked. 

“She had an asthma attack and her inhaler was out. She’d forgotten to change it and they had to call the ambulance team. We’ve been told she’s all okay, she’s at the medical tent -” Charles didn’t need to hear the rest. He quickly turned on his heel and sprinted out of the garage and towards the medical tent, not caring that he probably shouldn’t have been running considering he’d just crashed into a wall. 

—

“Is Charles okay?” You asked, propped up in bed whilst the medic team checked your heart rate. You were put on a ventilator, something you were used to after growing up with asthma. Victoria and Jos were by your side through the whole thing. Thankfully you started to breathe on your own after a while, the medics were running their last checks to make sure you didn’t need to be sent to a specialist. 

“He got out of the car just fine. He was walking around after.” Your Dad held your hand as he sat beside the bed, his eyes glancing back and forth between you and the race. 

“He’s okay y/n.” Victoria chimed in. 

“He should have joined you in here for his own checks but I’ve been told he’s refused a medical check-up.” The paramedic tending to you reassured you. “That means he must be fine.” 

You gave the woman a small smile, resting your head back and letting out a steady breath. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Verstappen.” She stepped back. “You’ll be fine but maybe this is a lesson to always carry an inhaler that works.” 

“Charles always has one on him just in case.”

“No good when he’s in a wall.” Your Dad replied. 

“Maybe we should start carrying a spare just in case,” Victoria spoke. 

“Or maybe I should remember to get mine replaced.” You chimed in. 

“That too but if Charles can carry one for you then I think we could too, just in case.”

Almost like he was summoned by the sound of his own name Charles darted into the room, still in his race suit his eyes fell on you. Suddenly all the anger and hurt from crashing out of the race disappeared and the only thing he could think of was you. “Ma belle fille…” Charles hurried himself over to you. Jos moved from your side allowing Charles to sit beside you. He took your hands into his, pressing small kisses into your skin. “What happened?”

“I fainted but I’m okay.” You ran your thumbs over the top of his hand. “It was just an asthma attack.”

“Love it’s not ‘just an asthma attack.” His eyes met yours. “It’s serious, you could have landed yourself in a lot of trouble, we were lucky you only landed yourself in here.”

“I know.” You looked down, slightly ashamed that you had caused all of this just because you forgot to get your inhaler replaced. 

“Hey,” Charles moved his hand to tilt your head back up to face him before he planted a short yet meaningful kiss on your lips. “I’m just glad you’re okay, you nearly made me faint when I got back to the garage and saw you weren’t there.” He smiled. 

“We’ll give you two some space.” Victoria pulled Jos out of the room. “I won’t tell Max what happened, I’ll let him bask in the glory first.” She winked before leaving the room with your Dad who looked displeased to leave you alone with Charles despite the two of you living together.

“Are you okay?” You turned the conversation back to him. 

“Hmm…” He hummed back. “It was all my fault, I’m never going to be a World Champion if I can’t keep the lead of a race without fucking it all up.” 

“One mistake doesn’t define your career Char.” Squeezing his hand you gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you.” He returned the smile. “It just feels as if I’m not set to win a Championship.”

“Why? Because you crashed the odd time? The world knows it’s not your fault, fans blame the team and they’re right in doing so. They ruined so many of your and Carlos’ races, races the pair of you could have easily won and gained more points than Max. The season isn’t over yet and if things don’t go to plan this season then you always have next season.”

He got up and leaned over to kiss the top of your head before placing a small light kiss on your lips before returning to his seat. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.” He kissed your hand again, looking up at you with his eyes full of love. “I don’t even want to go out there and talk to the press.” He huffed, leaning his head on the bed as he changed the subject.

“You don’t have to.” Your hands started to play with his hair. “You can just stay here.”

“Oh, I plan on it.” He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath as he melted into your touch, finally feeling calm. “Although I’ll have to speak to them eventually.”

“I’m sure you can weave around it besides, just tell them what you told me.”

“Not sure that’s going to work on everyone, most fans don’t think I deserve to even be considered as a title contender.”

“Since when did you care about what others think?” You raised your brows at the man. “Char, you drive Formula 1 cars for a living and they spend their money to see you drive those cars, you really care about what some low-life fan who can’t even drive a normal car thinks?”  

Charles raised his head from the bed and looked at you with a smile. “Such a way with words Verstappen.”

“I do try Leclerc.” You both leaned forward to one another when a sudden bang of a door opened.

Max was standing in the doorway alongside Daniel and Lando. When Daniel and Max were teammates you grew close to the Australian who would spend most of his time showing you his playlists on his phone and telling you the stories of his life. Daniel had been on adventures you only read about in books, you could listen to him all day. Lando and you grew close due to Max treating the boy like a younger brother. The two of you were also close in age which was an added bonus when it came to conversation. As Lando once said ‘sometimes these old men don’t understand us’. 

“Fucking hell y/n are you okay?” Max shoved Charles out of his chair, not caring that Charles could have been hurt as he’d been involved in a crash. “What happened? What did they give you?”

“I’m fine Max.” You smiled at your brother. “It was my fault, I had an asthma attack but my inhaler was empty. I fainted but I’m okay -”

“You don’t sound it,” Daniel spoke up, making his way to the bed, not caring that Charles was now sitting on the floor after being pushed by his old teammate. “Here.” Daniel handed you one of his hoodies, making sure you were comfortable as you lay in bed. 

“You know I have hoodies if you want them,” Charles announced from the floor, his face already fed up with Daniel's antics.

“I’ve got a few too,” Lando spoke, a smirk on his face. All three drivers received a glare from Max, a silent warning that if they continued he’d deal with them on the track. “But I’m sure you’re fine.” Lando quickly said, clearly scared of Max. 

“Thank you, Lando.” You tried to suppress your laughter as you spoke again. “And you too Daniel.” 

The Aussie helped you put the hoodie on, making sure you were warm and comfortable before laying back down. Whilst Daniel made sure you were comfortable Lando grabbed you a drink and left it on the side for when you were ready. 

“Thought you would have gotten her all this Leclerc,” Max suggested, knowing his words would annoy him. 

“I was too busy making out with her Verstappen.” Charles knew his words would annoy your brother. 

“What did you say?” Max stood up, his actions quickly causing Charles to scramble to his feet. 

“I’m just saying…” Charles smirked. “She tastes good -”

“That’s my sister you dickhead!” Max lunged at Charles but he missed, allowing Charles to sprint to Daniel, holding him and using him as a human shield but Max couldn’t care less. Lando used his brain and moved out of the way towards you, watching the whole scene unfold with a smile on his lips. 

“It was a joke!” Charles screamed, trying to defend himself as he made a run for the door. 

“Well…” Daniel looked over at you. “Least you don’t have to worry about your boyfriend being injured… from the car at least…”

Best Friends Brother - Charles Leclerc x reader - Part 2

Read Part One here

Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Summary: You and Arthur Leclerc had been best friends since you were children but it wasn’t the younger Leclerc brother you’d be in the sheets with and a one-night stand can hold a lifetime of regret.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Word Count: 3.5K

—

Arthur followed through with his promise and came to see you in England. The pair of you fell into one another's arms, tears streaming down your faces as the two of you rekindled your friendship and he stepped up to the role of Rowan’s uncle. Arthur always made sure you and Charles had time to yourselves which ultimately meant Rowan started to favour him over you both.

Charles picked up his life in Monaco and moved to England to be with you, his son… and the dog. He adapted to being a dad naturally, anyone would have thought he’d always been by your side through it all. He also made you a promise that he’d take you out for dates every week, that way the two of you got a break from Rowan and finally got time alone, then again the last time the two of you spent a night alone ended up with an unexpected stowaway. 

The pair of you had now been together for over a year, your son was now one and you agreed to something Charles had always begged you for, flying to Formula 1 so his son could watch him race. Flying back to Monaco was something you never thought you’d ever do again but for him, it was worth it. Charles rarely flew on his own, normally he and the rest of the grid apart from Max would all fly together but he wanted nothing more than to just relax with his family. 

You were sat in one of the chairs, Rowan laying on your chest as he tried to fall asleep having just eaten. He was much bigger than he was when Charles came back into his life, the only bonus was that he was sleeping through the night better. 

“I’ll take him, love.” Charles held his hands out for you. Obliging you handed Rowan to him, a small grin on your lips as you watched Charles’ face light up as he held his son. “God he’s getting big now.”

“He’ll start talking soon.”

“Don’t think I’m ready for that.” He sat opposite you, Rowan now clutching the collar of his shirt as he drifted off to sleep. “I just want him to stay small.” 

“It flies by but I won’t miss him waking us up during the middle of the night.” 

“I think I’ll miss all of it.” Charles planted a kiss on Rowan's forehead. “Apart from changing his nappy.” 

“You’ll still have to do that for now.” You replied, the pair of you sharing a light laugh. 

“Do you want another?” Charles suddenly asked. 

“Not yet.” You replied. 

He smiled at your response before he replied. “I’d like a daughter next.” His soft eyes met yours. “Obviously not yet but maybe when Rowan gets older and the two of us can finally get some decent sleep.” 

“That means you’ll be around for the pregnancy and that isn’t easy.” 

“You won’t have to do a thing when I’m around.” 

“I’ll hold you to that Leclerc.” 

Charles had successfully qualified on pole for his home race, something he was considerably pleased about but also something he was incredibly worried about. The curse of his home race haunted him every time he looked at the track. Whether Ferarri messed up his strategy or found himself lodged into a wall, Charles could never finish the race. But this year he hoped for it to be different. 

He was currently waiting in the Ferarri garage for the race to begin, Rowan on his lap as he looked at the bright red car before him. You’d dressed your son in Ferarri merchandise, specifically a shirt with his dad’s number on it.

Rowan made grabby hands and started to make noises at the car before him. Holding him close Charles stood up and moved towards the car. He smiled as the small boy grabbed the side of the car, giggling as he did so. With a gleaming smile on his lips, Charles climbed into the car and held his son close to him. Rowan couldn’t hold his laughter as he grabbed onto everything around him. 

“Think we might have another racing driver in the family,” Charles announced as he laughed at his son. You mirrored his actions, your heart always melted at the sight of him with Rowan. He took to being a Dad so naturally, from the moment he came back into your life he took to Rowan so effortlessly and acted as if the two of you had been dating for years. 

Charles tried to enjoy the moment with him but his mind was racing with worried thoughts. “Don’t look so worried Char.” You spoke up, watching as Charles only smiled when Rowan looked back at him. “Not finishing in P1 won’t be the end of the world.” 

The brunette let his eyes fall on you. “I know but it’s my home race, the rest of the drivers have won theirs, I just want to win mine.” 

“And you will.” You stepped over to him, leaning down to plant a kiss on his lips. 

“And if I don’t?”

“If you keep believing that you won’t win it then you won’t.” 

As Charles went to reply but one of the mechanics told him it was time for him to make his way to the track. He held Rowan out for you to take before sharing one last kiss before he got his helmet on and braced himself for the race of his life. 

Rowan and you sat watching him inside the garages. Rowan had a pair of Ferarri headphones to block out the noise as he watched his father race. Every time the car appeared on the screen Rowan let out a giggle, his tiny hands pointing to the screen. Everyone in the garages loved him, Daniel wouldn’t stop bothering him when he saw the three of you in the hotel… at least you knew you always had a spare babysitter in him if needed. 

Every single time Charles approached a corner your heart stopped but he was okay. The man was going to send you into cardiac arrest every time he sped up around a sharp bend but he was fine, even when Max was breathing down his neck. Both you and Charles felt every single second of that race but he was across the finish line with only lapped cars in front of him. For the first time in his career, he’d won his home race and both the love of his life and son were there to witness it. 

The only time you’d ever seen Charles this happy was when he saw you in the woods with Rowan and the dog a year ago. Leaping out of his car he hurled himself towards you as he threw his helmet aside. Cupping your jaw Charles pulled your lips onto his whilst his hands held you as close to him as you could get. He deepened the kiss slightly but unfortunately had to pull away sooner than he would’ve liked. 

“Everything is perfect.” His eyes met yours as he spoke before being dragged away for the celebrations. You’d never been prouder of him, it was a moment you wished you could’ve frozen in time for you all to look back on. 

—

Formula 1 had ended for the season and now in the cold English weather, Charles was taking you both to a restaurant just outside the village whilst Arthur came and babysat. He was dressed in a smart black suit paired with a red tie whilst you adorned a stunning slip dress that Charles had bought you for Christmas.

“Right you know what you’re doing, don’t you?” Charles had cornered Arthur in your living room whilst you finished settling your son down. 

“I’ve looked after him a million times, it’ll be fine.” Arthur shrugged his brother off as he watched you rock the child into an easy slumber. “Besides he’s asleep, hopefully, he’ll stay like that until the two of you come back and you two can deal with the screaming child all night.” 

“It’ll be Charles dealing with him and besides he doesn’t scream like he used to but he he does then Charles can deal with him seeing that he’s the one on holiday.” Referencing the winter break you stepped towards the brothers. “He’ll be fine anyway, he’ll need to be changed and he may need another feed depending on how late we get back. The bottles are in the fridge, just don’t forget to sterilise them when you’re done.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

“You remember how to do that right?” Charles added. 

“I know what I’m doing.” Arthur gave Charles a dumbfounded look before he spoke again. “If anything goes wrong I’ll call you two straight away. You know that.” Charles gave him a light nod before he turned back to you. He planted a kiss on your cheek before leaning down to kiss Rowan’s forehead. 

“Leo’s already been walked and fed, he’ll let you know when he needs the bathroom. You just might need to burn off some energy with him outside, he can occasionally get restless when we aren’t home -”

“When you aren’t home.” Charles corrected, sending you a look. “He loves it when I’m gone.”

“He’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“It’s been over a year and he hates me,” The dog seemed to narrow his gaze at your boyfriend as he spoke. “Look how he’s looking at me!”

“Because he knows you’re talking shit about him.” You held Rowan out for Charles. “You can put Rowan down and I’ll just run Arthur through Leo’s schedule as he clearly hates you.” A smile spread across your lips when Charles muttered a string of insults towards the dog under his breath whilst he trudged upstairs to put Rowan down.

“Why does he hate Charles?” Arthur leant down allowing Leo to come towards him. The german shepherd always seemed fond of the younger Leclerc brother.

“Well, they do say dogs can sense things we can’t. I think he knows what happened and when Charles ran up to us in the woods it meant Leo saw him as a threat. It’ll take time.” 

“Surely he’s got used to him now, the two of you finally made it official and now you live together.” 

“Maybe he’s just jealous.” You now followed suit with Arthur’s actions, bending down to meet Leo. The dog trotted towards you, letting his head crash into your chest as you smoothed down his fur. 

“Think Charles is the jealous one.” An annoyed-looking Charles leaning up against the doorway caught your and Arthur's attention.

“I’m not jealous of the dog, he just needs to know boundaries.”

“He does know boundaries.” 

“When it comes to the house he does, he won’t even let me kiss you without sparing me a dirty look.”

“He’s a dog, Char.” 

“An annoying one at that.” 

You didn’t plan to argue over who the dog preferred before your night so the two of you thanked Arthur and checked on Rowan one last time before heading out of the door. 

On your way to the restaurant Charles couldn’t keep his hands off you and his mouth would never close as he dropped every compliment he could think of during the journey but now he acted on edge. You watched as he continued to play with his ring and glance over at his phone every few seconds. 

He leaned back on his chair, letting out a narrow breath as his leg now started to bounce. Reaching forward you took your hand into his before speaking. “Char?”

“Hmm?” He attempted to keep his voice steady as he gripped your hand. 

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to have a panic attack -” 

“How are you so calm?”

“Sorry?” 

Charles leaned forward, his free hand grabbing yours as his enduring eyes met your curious ones. “How are you so calm being away from Rowan? Don’t you worry about him?”

“Of course I do.” Giving him a warm smile you continued. “But I know he’s safe with Arthur and before he and you came back into my life, Margret used to babysit him so I could have time to recover and just relax. I still worry about him but I know he’s safe and you know if anything was to happen Arthur could call us immediately.” 

“I know.” He returned the small smile. “But I still worry. I’ve already spent too much time away from him.” His grip on your hand tightened.

“But you’re here now and that’s all that matters. Besides Rowan won’t ever know -”

“But I will.” 

“I know you will but it’s in the past. It wasn’t your fault and Rowan will know that if we decide to tell him when he gets older.” 

“It was partly my fault -”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was -”

You gave him a look which screamed ‘let's not get into this argument again’ which caused Charles to let out a small smile before he leaned back into his chair. “You win.” He smirked as he picked up his drink and raised it to his lips. 

“I always do.” 

“Clearly.” His smirk grew as his eyes glued onto yours. 

The pair of you forgot about his worries as you continued to eat and drink. Charles lost himself in conversation and your eyes so much that he didn’t notice the three missed calls from his brother. It was only when you both went to pay the bill that you noticed the younger Leclerc had texted you. 

Arthur: Can you get Charles to call me? Or can you when you see this.

You: Is everything okay? Is Rowan okay?

Arthur: Rowan is fine, it’s Leo I’m worried about. Get Charles to call me.

You: Why him? He’s my dog.

Arthur: Please just get him to call me.

“Char?” You spoke just as Charles tipped your waiter.

“Yeah?”

“Arthur wants you to call him -”

“What?” He reached for his phone. “Is Rowan okay?”

“He’s fine apparently it’s the dog he’s worried about.” 

Charles furrowed his brows, confused at why his brother would want to ask him about Leo when it was pretty evident that your dog hated Charles. Despite him not being able to talk or even understand you both, Charles was convinced he knew what happened between you both and ultimately took your side in the whole situation. 

The brunette quickly called his brother, raising the phone to his ear as he spoke. “You okay?” He spoke to Arthur, his eyes meeting yours occasionally as the conversation continued. “It’s called Kingstone veterinary, it’s about ten minutes away. Take Rowan with you and we’ll meet you there.” 

“What’s going on?” Your voice was laced with worry at the mention of the vets. 

“Leo got into something he shouldn’t of.” 

“What?” Charles met your eyes, taking a deep breath he searched your worried eyes and debated if he should lie. “Charles, what did he get into?”

“I bought it ages ago, I wasn’t going to ask you anytime soon. I wanted to wait until the two of us set up the house how we wanted, went on more dates and when the time was right I was going to ask you to marry me. When I saw the ring I couldn’t not get it. It was perfect and now Leo managed to find it and decided he never wanted me to ask that question so he ate it.” He huffed before finishing. “That dog hates me -”

“You want to marry me?” 

His eyes softened at your words. “Of course I do y/n.” He once again took your hands into his. “I’ve always wanted you and I knew that I couldn’t have you because you were my brother’s best friend but I had a plan on how I’d get you… didn’t involve us having a son but I wouldn’t change it for the world now.” He raised your hands and planted a kiss on the top of them before his thumbs ran across your skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You mirrored his smile. “And as much as I’d love to stay here right now, you could have killed the dog with the ring so we might want to get to the vet.” 

“It’s not my fault that thing hates me!” He replied, standing up with you before the two of you left to meet Arthur at the vet. 

—

Arthur was sat in the waiting room with Rowan who was beginning to let out small cries, clearly missing his parents whilst Leo was undergoing surgery. Arthur knew how much Leo meant to you, after all, he was the reason why you felt so safe without him or Charles around. The boy let his leg bounce up and down as he tried to calm Rowan who did nothing but make his true feelings heard. 

“Shh… shhh…” Arthur attempted to silence the child but he refused to stay quiet. “Come on little man, your mum and dad will be here soon…” His eyes wandered to the pale clock mounted on the wall. “I hope so anyway…” 

With your hand in his, Charles dragged you through the doors of the practice. The sudden sound of the doors opening grabbed Arthur's attention, a sudden wash of relief on his face as he watched the two of you approach him with worried glances. Without a word falling from his lips, Charles scooped his son from his brother’s arms, holding Rowan in a safe embrace before swaying side to side in an attempt to calm the distressed baby. If there was one thing you adored about Charles it was how quickly he adapted to being a dad and his urge to protect Rowan. He never wanted to leave him for too long and if the two of you were in the company of others he would do everything in his power to not let go of Rowan, even if the family wanted to hold him. 

“Where’s Leo?” You asked as Arthur embraced you. 

“Undergoing surgery, they were worried the ring would get caught up in his intestines…” Arthur's eyes widened at his own words, his head snapped towards Charles as he ran a hand through his hair. “You told her what he ate, didn’t you?”

“Yes she knows… not much of a surprise now…” He replied, clearly upset that the proposal would now not come as a shock to you although he tried to convince himself you knew he’d ask you at one point. Your hand came up to his arm, lightly touching his skin as a silent way to let him know that you really didn’t care about the surprise. You had him and your son, that’s all you needed, you never needed a ring to prove your love for him. 

“Charles I -”

“Miss y/l/n?” An older voice caught your attention. You met the warming gaze of your vet Logan. “He’s out of surgery, you and your partner are welcome to see him now.” He gestured to the door behind him. 

“Is he okay?” Charles asked. 

“He’ll be fine. He’s a little high from the anaesthetic but that’ll pass. He can come home tonight and… I’m presuming you want the ring back… Mr Leclerc?” 

“As long as it doesn’t have his organs clinging to the diamond.” 

“Charming thought Charles.” Sparing a glance at your boyfriend you followed Logan into the surgery room where you saw a very high Leo. Despite his sorry state he started to wag his tail and whine at the sight of his family. “Hello boy…” You took his head in your hands, your thumbs smoothing his fur. “Where did you even hide the ring?” Turning back to Charles you asked the question on your mind. 

“In my underwear drawer… oh I swear to god if he’s put a hole in my fireproofs!” 

“Can’t you just ask Ferrari for more?”

“And explain how the dog tried to sabotage my plans to propose to you? I’d rather not be mocked for the rest of the season.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his annoyance before turning back to the dog. “How did you even get into that?”

“He’s been watching me -”

“Charles he’s a dog not James Bond.” 

“You never know…” He trailed off, stepping closer to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and gently pulled you into his side. “I’m sorry -”

“For what?” You turned your head towards his. 

“Ruining the surprise. I had everything planned out… I just needed the chance.”

“Char I know you love me and I know you love Rowan. I don’t need a ring to prove that. Yes, it would be nice to be married to you, I would love to call you my husband but the important thing is that we’re all back together. Rowan has his Dad and I have the man I love.” 

He didn’t say anything as he leaned down with only a smile on his lips and planted his lips onto yours, a silent gesture of agreement but even an operation wouldn’t stop Leo from voicing his opinion. The dog barked making Charles jump back from you. 

“I really hate him…”  

Car Troubles - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Can you do an angst with Charles where the reader is a Verstappen and lots of brother max🥺🥺🥺

Summary: Ferrari can’t keep their car on track and Charles can’t keep his emotions on the track. 

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, Max on a rampage.

—

When Max found out you and Charles were dating he wasn’t precisely best pleased, how could he be? His little sister was in bed with the man who’d been his rival since his karting days. Although Max was kinder to Charles now than he was back then he would still give Charles a rough time on the track or the cold shoulder at family dinners. Just because Charles was dating his sister didn’t mean he’d like him. 

For the past few months, Ferarri hadn’t been performing as well as they should be and the moment the car stopped breaking down Charles would make a mistake and land himself with another DNF. The pair of you had been dating for over a year now and Max was very much aware of it. You moved in after four months leaving Max alone in his apartment, not that you were always away from your older brother and tonight was one of those nights. 

Charles had returned from the race weekend pissed off beyond measure. The car had finally started to work and he’d spun out and hit the wall. He was leading the French GP and after his mistake, your brother went on to claim P1 which only pissed Charles off even more. He and you returned to Monaco rather hastily, saying nothing the entire flight home. Once you were in your shared apartment you finally decided to speak. 

“Charles?”

“I don’t want to talk about it y/n.” His voice was stern as he threw his bags down without looking. His careless actions caused his bag to knock against your coffee table, hitting a vase Max had bought you. The water from the vase fell across the small table and leaked onto a scrapbook you’d left on the glass counted. 

“Charles!” You screamed before running over to the table. “Be careful you’ll ruin it!” The scrapbook was a present from Charles. After you two had an argument over telling Max about you both, he created the book as a way to show you that he never wanted to hide you ever again. Every time you went on a date he’d make sure he got something as a souvenir so he could scrapbook it. He got to relive the memories, allowing him to relax after races. 

“Who cares? It’s just a shitty book!” He snapped, running his hands through her hair. 

“What did you say?” Your voice broke at his words. 

“You heard, it’s just a shitty book with scraps of paper, it’s not important -”

“That book is about us, the book that you made! It is important.” 

“You don’t know what’s important y/n.” He raised his voice. “You know what is important? Me winning this championship! I need to win this for me, for Ferarri, for my family… for all those fans that give their time, effort and money to me, I need to win it for them!” He took a deep breath. “I need to win it for you…”

“Charles I want you to win the championship but it won’t make me think any differently of you…” 

“It should.” He snapped. “It’ll make me on the same level as your brother and I need to be fighting against Redbull… but you don’t get it.” 

“Charles I do -”

“No, you don’t! You’re not in that car, your brother is. You’re just always there in the background, just waiting there for Max… never me -”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Your voice grew. “I always watch the race in the Ferarri garages, I only leave when Max wins to congratulate him. He’s still my brother Charles.” 

“You know sometimes when I lose I just want you there…” His voice was low as he spoke but that didn’t last long. “But you’ll never understand what that’s like.”

“Why? Because I’m not a driver?”

“Because you’ve never been in the spotlight, only the background.” 

“Is that what I am to you?” Your brows arched at his words. “Just someone in the background?”

“Well… the journalists flock to your brother, not you.” 

Being the sister of a Formula 1 driver had its perks but it also meant that every day you woke up knowing you would never be on the same level as your brother. Max was always praised by your mum and dad whereas you had to fight for even the smallest acknowledgement from your parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about your own achievements but more so that Max was always at the forefront when it came to outperforming you and Victoria. 

You didn’t utter a word to him as you grabbed your bags once again but rather than heading to your front room you headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” Charles asked. 

“Why do you care? I’m just in the background, aren’t I?” 

“Oh come on y/n you know I didn’t mean it -”

“Are you sure about that Charles because you’re acting like it.”

“Look, I know you will never understand what it’s like being under so much pressure but -”

“Charles, do you know what it’s like to be compared to your brother who’s won a World Championship? Do you know what it’s like to have to constantly think of ways to be noticed by your own family for something whilst your brother is out on the track competing in one of the greatest sports in the world?” Taking a deep breath as you watched his mixed expression. “Maybe Arthur will understand.”  

“Don’t bring Arthur into this -”

“Then don’t bring Max into this!” 

“How can I not? He’s everywhere I turn! He makes stupid decisions on the track which resulted in me suffering!” 

“Do not blame your incompetence on my brother!” 

“My incompetence?” He laughed at your words. “Your brother’s a fucking idiot on that track, nearly kills everyone who even dares go near him!” 

“At least Max knows how to stay on the track.” You knew it was a low blow but the way he was speaking to you, he deserved it. 

“That was low y/n…”

“And calling me unimportant isn’t?”

“Well right now you’re not important y/n, you know what is? Running Redbull to the ground and winning this championship, nothing else matters right now.” 

Charles was obsessed with winning, he always felt the need to prove himself to everyone around him despite his friends and family knowing he was capable of what he wished to achieve but he knew that didn’t matter. With fans and the press constantly hounding him and Ferrari to be better you knew it was them he wanted to appease, not himself. 

“Fine.” You didn’t utter another word as you opened the door and left him standing alone in your apartment. Tears pricked your eyes as you dragged your bags into the lift. You knew that if you stayed the two of you would only rip one another’s heads off even more than you already have. 

Monaco wasn’t exactly small so it wouldn’t take long to get to Max’s building meanwhile Charles was left alone with his thoughts. He’d fished the scrapbook from the water, treating it like an artefact at a museum as he slowly flicked through the pages, carefully inspecting which ones were damaged. Every time his eyes fell on the photos his heart sank. He knew he shouldn’t take out what was happening on the track onto you. You would support him at every turn and he knew what he said about you never being there for him was a lie. He spent the night drying the pages as best he could whilst he put them back together as they were before. He thought of sending you a text asking you if you were at Max’s safely, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you’d gone to see your brother about it, but he also knew if Max saw your phone he’d take it upon himself to reply. 

When Max saw you his confused gaze softened into a sympathetic one. His arms opened as you fell against him in his doorway. Sobbing into his chest he slowly guided you into his apartment before speaking. “Want me to break check the cunt when he’s out cycling? Or I can shove him into the wall during the race next week? Then again he does that himself anyway…” You pulled back from Max, a small smile on your face at his words as you two sat down. “What happened?”

“It was just a stupid argument, it’s nothing.” You wiped your tears away with your sleeves but Max wasn’t convinced. 

“It’s very rare you come running to me late at night because you’re upset.” He leant back in his chair. He had a point. Normally you and Charles would act cold with one another until either one of you apologised a mere few hours later but this time it felt different. He’d gotten personal and it had hurt. “You normally make up after a few hours and then I find out a week later so what was different this time?” 

“He said I wasn’t important to him and that all his focus was on the Championship… he told me I wouldn’t understand and I get that - I’m not one of you and I know it’s important but I can understand to a certain degree how important it is but I thought he’d value what we have over that title.” 

“I’ll kill him -”

“Max!” 

“What?”

“He’s still my boyfriend.”

“Not one I like.”

“You don’t need to like him… more tolerate him.”

“I’m finding that hard right now.” Rolling his eyes he shifted his gaze back to you. “Has he even texted you? To make sure you got here safely?” 

Sliding your phone out of your pocket you were met with a blank screen. “No -”

“Cunt.” Max spoke under his breath. “Have you eaten?”

“No -”

“Good, we’ll order in, watch a film, like we used to.” He smiled at the memories. When the two of you were younger every single Friday you would all watch a film and have a takeaway with your sister Victoria. It was the one night when the three of you were all together and could forget about your parent's divorce and the world around you.  

You and Max spent the night talking about what happened whilst you two watched a Disney film, trying to forget the night. Unlike anyone else you were close with, Max knew how Charles felt when his car didn’t comply and when he made a mistake which lead to his race being ended. He would always give you a different perspective on your situation and most importantly, he’d listen to you. That was something a lot of people never saw, Max would always validate your feelings and tell you his own perspective on things when you needed it. 

Eventually, you and Max called it a night and you headed into his spare room. Throwing your bags onto the bed you began to get ready for bed when your phone sounded from the cabinet. 

Char <;3: Did you get to Max’s okay? X

You: I did x

Char <;3: When are you coming back? X

You: Is that why you texted? X

Char <;3: No I wanted to know that you were safe x

You: I left the house hours ago x

Char <;3: I know but I wanted to give you space x 

You locked your phone, ignoring his last text. You knew you’d cause another argument with him about his text being a little too late but he’d already read your mind.

Char <3: Look I’m sorry I should’ve messaged you earlier but I didn’t want to make this any worse x

You: By making sure I wasn’t killed? Do you think you checking in on my well-being was going to make this worse? X

Char <;3: You’re right and I’m so sorry, I should’ve walked or driven you over myself. When are you coming home? X 

You: I don’t know x

Char <;3: Please be safe. Take your time and I’ll see you soon and I’m sorry x

You: For not texting me or the argument we had? X

Char <3: Both x

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go home to him but his words continued to play in your head over and over again like a broken record. Climbing into bed you glimpsed at your lock screen which was a photo of you and Charles after he’d won the Australian GP. He had the trophy in one hand but he was looking at you, his eyes full of love as he looked at you, completely ignoring the trophy in his hand. 

You: I’ll message you later, goodnight Char. I love you x 

Charles's heart jumped at the reply he got. He knew it was stupid considering the two of you had been in a relationship for years but after a fight like that, all he wanted was reassurance. 

Char <;3: I love you too x 

He knew he had to make it up to you, he’d fucked up and with Max as your brother, he knew he’d have to grovel. 

—

You’d stayed with Max until the Hungarian GP, you knew you’d end up sharing a hotel with Charles. Max had offered to pay for another room for you but the truth was your heart ached to see your boyfriend again. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you a room?” Max asked as he carried your things to the room you were set to share with Charles. 

“I’m fine Max.” You smiled at him. “Besides they probably don’t have one free at this time-”

“Then you can take my room and I’ll share with Charles.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that would go down well.” 

“Well…” Max smirked at his own words. “He wouldn’t have to worry about him crashing into a wall because he wouldn’t even make it to the car.”

“You’re horrible.” A smile tainted on your lip at your own words. 

“Could be worse, remember what I did to your ex?” He smiled down at you. How could you forget? Your last boyfriend, Alexander, had cheated on you with a girl he claimed was ‘just a friend’. You walked in on the two of them in a compromising position only hours after he told you that he loved you. When Max found out there was nothing that could stop him. He stormed into his house and made sure he gave him two black eyes that wouldn’t shift for weeks. 

“It would be harder to get away with if you did it to Charles, besides, we had an argument. It’s not like he cheated on me.” 

“Well if that ever crosses his mind… it’ll be worse than two black eyes.” 

You reached your room but just as you went to open the door a tall brunette swung the door open before you could even get your hand to it. His eyes met yours as you both stared at one another in silence for a second. Max coughed, breaking the two of you out of your trance. 

“Max…” Charles glanced over to your brother who looked as if he was ready to kill him. 

“Charles,” Max replied before turning to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with him? You can take my room.” 

Charles looked as if he wanted to kill Max himself at his words. “I’m sure she’s fine with me,” Charles spoke up. 

“You know she can talk for herself, Leclerc.”

“I’m aware.” Speaking through gritted teeth Charles seemed to have finally found his voice. 

“I’ll be fine Max.” You looked between the two men. Charles quickly snatched your bags away from Max’s grasp, a smug smile on his lips as he watched Max take a step back in defeat. 

“Text me if you need anything y/n, I’ll see you in the garages.” Max turned on his heel, his eyes not leaving Charles’s as he headed down the hallway. 

Charles held the door open for you as you walked inside the room. He’d moved his things in but only to one side of the room like he did every single weekend. Even when you weren’t around it always became a habit for him. “How was your time with Max?” He spoke as he set your bags aside. 

“Needed.” You replied. “How was your alone time?”

“Lonely.” He stepped closer to you. “I missed you.” 

Looking up your eyes met his. “I missed you too.” 

“I’m so sorry y/n. What I said, I didn’t mean it at all. Look, I was upset over the race, I feel like I’ll never be a World Champion and every single day I believe that I feel like I’m letting everyone down… especially you.”

“Charles I won’t love you any less if you aren’t a World Champion.”

“I know but… in the past, it's gotten too much and I’ve had people leave me or just become distant and I couldn’t take it if you decided to leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you I just want you to talk to me. I know I’m not a driver but my brother is and for years Max told me what it’s like and I know I’m not in the car but I can listen and understand as best I can, I’m sorry for what I said.” 

Charles stepped closer, his hands resting on the sides of your face as he leaned down. “You are so important to me, more important than any stupid trophy.”

“I better be.” Your face broke into a smile as Charles leaned down and took your lips into his. He stood in between your legs as he deepened the kiss his hands going to your hair to pull you closer to him, acting like this was the last time he’d ever kiss you. Eventually, you both pulled away, and Charles straightened himself up. 

“I have something for you.” Opening the drawer beside the bed he pulled out the scrapbook he’d made you. “It’s not just a book to me.” He handed it to you. “I fixed it as best I could, I’m sorry-”

“I think we should leave this page blank.” Cutting him off you pointed to a blank page. “For when you win the Championship, that way if you ever feel like you aren’t good enough then you can look back to this page, it might be blank for now but it’s a silent reminder of how much I believe in you, we all do.” You pecked his lips. “You might not believe it sometimes but everyone wants the best for you, especially your fans.” 

“I don’t want to let them down.”

“And you won’t… Ferrari will.” 

He laughed at your words, falling down beside you on the bed. “If only everyone thought how you did.” 

—

“Are you spying on them?” A British accent made Max jump back from the door to yours and Charles’s room. Lando stood behind him with a confused expression. 

“I’m just making sure he doesn’t make her cry.” 

“I think he makes other things wet besides her eyes.” Lando laughed at himself. Turning to face him Max laughed alongside him before his expression changed in a heartbeat. 

“Lando?” 

“Yeah?”

“Make a joke like that about my sister again and I’ll cut your dick off.” 

---

Buy me a coffee <3

Just an incident - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Max n her like twins and r drivers for red bull, and both the twins hate Charles and same with Charles, Charles hates her because she always wins the race and loves to rub it on him especially, but slowly both reader and Charles start to build a crush on each other… in short an Enemies to lovers with Charles Leclerc ;) 

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, angst, Jos Verstappen, swearing, mentions of anxiety and injuries 

Word Count: 7.9K 

A/N: Thank you anon, this request is one of my favourites &lt;3

—

The Verstappens had always hated the Leclercs and the Leclercs had always hated the Verstappens. It was like the families of Romeo and Juliet only with highspeed cars and a crowd of millions discussing your every move. You’d known Charles for years, both you and your twin brother Max had been karting with him since you were kids and now the three of you were in Formula 1. Both you and Max drove for Redbull whilst Charles achieved his dream of driving for Ferarri but although the three of you had changed, the rivalry didn’t. 

Charles hated the way you gloated every single time you won, the look you gave him when the champagne hit your skin made his blood boil. He hated everything you did but couldn’t help but admire how you did it. You and your brother were already World Champions but Charles was still struggling. Anytime he even came close to being at the top the Redbull twins would knock him off his pedestal in a heartbeat. 

Today was the day of the Monaco GP, Charles’s home race and the one race he was yet to win. You were starting in P1, he was in P2 and Max was in P3. After one last quick discussion in the Redbull garage, you and Max wished one another luck before heading to the grid walk. As you dodged the interviewers your eyes fell onto a bright red race suit with a black horse planted firmly on the back. 

“Leclerc!” You called to the brunette who spun around to meet your gaze. “Looking forward to hearing the Dutch national anthem at your home race?” You smirked at the man as he joined your side. 

“Fancy making a bet on it?” His eyes shone at his own words. 

“Bet your life savings on me and you’ll be richer than a king.” You smirked at him as you two continued to walk. 

He laughed at your response. “I was going to suggest a different kind of bet.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“If I win, you must tell the interviewers that I’m your biggest competition.” 

“They’ll know I’m lying when I open my mouth.” You glanced over at him before speaking again. “What about if I win?”

“Then I’ll tell them you’re the best driver on the grid -”

“They already know that.”

“You know you’re just like your brother.” His patience lessened. “Full of yourself and arrogant.” 

“Well believe it or not we are related.”

“And full of sarcasm.”

“Maybe you should take notes, after all, we’re world champions and you aren’t.”

The brunette grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to his body. You felt his breath fan against your face as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re only World Champions because you cheat!”

“Cheat? Just because you can’t last around one corner without driving yourself into the wall -”

“Only because you shove me into them!” 

“Yeah?” You leaned in closer to him, your lips only inches away from one another. “Well, you better watch for my car today…”

“Or what?”

“Take your eyes off me for a second and you’ll be in the wall.” Pulling your arm from his grip you stormed off to your car, mumbling under your breath at the interaction. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Verstappen gets a good start but so does Leclerc! The other Verstappen… not so much…”

Charles had gotten off to a perfect start, enough to overtake Max and quickly made his way behind you, clearly you’d riled him up enough that he wanted to win his end of his shitty bet but everyone knew that Monaco wasn’t the easiest to overtake on. 

“Perfect start y/n, we’re staying with plan A for now. If anything changes we will let you know, Max is in P3 and Leclerc is just behind you.” The team radio sounded in your ear as you replied. 

“Thank you, guys.” Your eyes flickered to your mirrors, catching the red glimpse of the Ferrari, a smirk dawned on your face at the sight of him trying so hard but you couldn’t spend your life focusing on him, you had a race to win. 

“Box, box!” A yellow flag due to Lando making friends with the wall allowed you to pit with just ten laps to go. Charles stayed out which allowed him to claim P1. Most teams wouldn’t box at a time like this, especially with only a few laps to go on a track which was renowned to be difficult to pass on but Redbull and the Verstappen siblings were more than capable. 

Switching to the soft tyers you set back out to the track and join Charles. The pair of you had created some distance between the other drivers meaning it was just you two fighting for the top. “The safety car is leaving the track now, focus on getting past Leclerc.” Christian had taken the liberty of delivering the news to you.

“Understood.” You nodded in your car, despite them not being able to see you before suddenly speeding up as the safety car left your eyes. 

Charles didn’t set off as fast as you did but that didn’t matter to him, all he needed to do was defend with his life. It started off relatively easy for him, you backed off when things got too dangerous but you only had two laps to pass him and now you were getting desperate. It was no surprise to anyone that the Verstappens would get violent in order to win. It was in your blood and on the track no one was your friend, not even your own twin. 

Coming wheel to wheel with him the two of you turned into a corner but you refused to back off. Charles attempted to push you off the track but the Redbull was too fast. Pushing ahead you clipped Charles which sent him spinning into the wall leaving you in P1 and now your brother was able to claim to P2 whilst Charles didn’t even get to finish his home race. 

“y/n Verstappen wins the Monaco Grand Prix!” 

“Brilliant driving today y/n, really well done today. Take it all in, you deserve it.” Christian smiled as he spoke to you through the radio. 

“Thank you guys for today!” You replied. “Was Max P2?”

“Yes he was, he’s just behind you.” 

“And Charles? Is he okay?” 

“He’s back in the garage, he’s fine… pissed off but fine.” 

“Brilliant.” You pulled your car up to the pits, parking right before the P1 sign. Clambering out of your car you knelt down to kiss the front, it was something you’d started doing after Max gave you a lecture about ‘having your own celebration’. Max came running towards you, his arms open wide as he pulled you into a hug. 

“I’m so proud of you.” His smile was so bright anyone would’ve thought he’d won but the truth was you and Max were each other's biggest supporters. 

It was no secret that your Dad wanted the best for you both and if that meant treating you two like shit in order for you two to become the best in the world then that was something he’d happily do. Your Mum knew you both had to live with your Dad in order to be in Formula 1 and without her, the two of you no longer had an escape from him. Max was your escape and you were his.  

“Thank you.” You pulled away from your brother as you headed to be weighed and interviewed. Just as you were about to be weighed a tall bundle of red stormed towards you. 

“You fucking cheat!” Charles screamed at the top of his lungs. When he got close enough he pushed you back lightly as he towered over you. “Typical Verstappen, always cheating your way to the top!” Before you could even utter a word Max grabbed Charles by his race suit and dragged him away. 

“Don’t you dare touch my sister.” He didn’t yell, only spoke in a harsh tone. A tone which Charles knew not to underestimate. “You even look at her with any ill intent I’ll do more than put you into a wall.” Max shoved Charles back before he returned to where you were now finishing up your last interview before you headed to your podium. “Are you okay?” He draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side as he spoke. 

“Yeah I’m fine, he’s just pissed off.”

“Doesn’t mean he can shove you and speak to you like that.” 

“I know.” You gave Max a small smile. “I’ll talk to him after -”

“No, you won’t.” 

“Max I -”

“That cunt isn’t going anywhere near you, even in a car and especially not on a podium.” He smiled back, you forced a smile at his words. Despite how much you and Charles hated one another you felt the need to speak to him, even if Max wouldn’t approve. 

—

You’d spent the last five minutes attempting to zip your dress up but to no avail you were left unsuccessful. After Redbull’s podium you, your brother and a few other drivers decided to head to a club to celebrate. It was normal that a lot of drivers would spend the evening together after a race, a few would rarely attend but the Verstappens were always at the party scene. 

Clutching the front of the dress you waltzed over to your phone, ready to dial Max or your sister for help when a knock at the door grabbed your attention. Thinking it was Max you spoke aloud as you opened the door. “Thank fuck you’re here Max, I can’t get my dress zipped up -” You jumped out of your skin when your eyes met the mesmerising ones of Charles Leclerc. He stood before you with his shirt hanging over his shoulder, drenched in sweat. Your eyes didn’t want to wander (liar) but they did. It was no secret that Charles was beautiful and as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny that the man looked as if he was sent down from the Gods themselves. 

“Is there a reason you’re at my door shirtless?”

“I went on a run.” 

“And you didn’t think to change?”

“Why is it distracting you?” His cockiness began to show. 

“You’re not Gasly so we should be fine.” You mirrored his attitude before silence fell upon you both.

“Sorry, I should’ve messaged and asked if you were free.” He breathlessly spoke. “Can I come in?” You nodded, holding your dress closer to your chest as you let the man in before quickly shutting the door. “Do you need help with that?” He gave a light smile as he nodded towards your situation.

“Please.” Your voice was quiet as he threw his shirt on your bed and moved behind you. He effortlessly moved your hair onto your shoulder so he could focus on your zip. His hands delicately moved down your back, touching your skin which made you jump slightly at the sudden skin-on-skin contact. 

“It’s just me…” His breath hit your neck as he spoke. 

“The same man that shoved me after the race today-”

“The same woman who shoved me into the wall on the track.” 

You laughed lightly at his response. “Touche Leclerc.” 

Charles treated you like you were priceless, his hands gently touched you as he slowly zipped up your dress. The heat from his body could be felt on your skin which only made your mind run, God who wouldn’t want him? “It’s a nice colour.” Referencing the red of the dress he moved your hair back off your shoulder before stepping back. “I need to talk to you.” Sitting on your bed he looked up at you whilst you smoothed your dress down. “I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. I was pissed off because of what happened and I should’ve spoken to you about it privately.” 

You nodded at his words before taking a step towards him. “I shouldn’t have shoved you off the track like that-” 

“I don’t blame you for that.” He cut you off. “I would’ve done the same…” He smiled. “And I have done that before.”

You thought back to the Grand Prix from Spa two seasons ago. You saw a gap and you went for it but Charles wasn’t letting you get pole that easily. He sent you into the barrier and to the local hospital for a suspected head injury. 

“At least I didn’t send you to the hospital.” 

“Yet.” He stood up as he spoke, the pair of you inches apart but this time he was looking down at you. “I’m sorry again Verstappen.” He stepped aside, heading towards your door. 

“Are you not coming out tonight?” You quickly asked him. 

“I’d rather not end up dead when Max sees me.” 

“He’ll get over it.” 

“Will you?” 

“I still hate you, Leclerc.” You smirked as the words left your mouth. He mirrored your expression.  

“Feelings mutual…” Opening the door he went to leave but stopped himself in your doorway. “You look good in red.” His eyes scanned your body before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in your room, the only reminder of his presence was his lingering touch and his shirt he'd left on your bed. 

—

Azerbaijan was the race after Monaco and yet again you’d claimed P1 whilst Charles hadn’t even made pole. You watched him yell at those in the garages and along the pit wall who were evidently at fault for Ferarri's horrific strategy. Clearly feeling a pair of eyes on himself he scanned the crowd until his eyes met yours, your smug grin as you kissed our trophy sent him over the edge. He stormed out of the garages and made his way back to the hotel as fast as he could, not even caring how his PR team would react to him ignoring the interviewers patiently waiting for his thoughts. 

Back at the hotel once the celebrations had died down you grabbed the shirt he’d left in your room back in Monaco. Ironically it was a Ferarri shirt so you had to hide it with your life, if Max had seen it then you wouldn’t have made it to Azerbaijan alive. It had been washed, you couldn’t have it laying around your house drenched in sweat. 

When you knocked on his door a sudden shout made you question if going to his room at this time was a good idea. “Carlos I said I’m fine!” 

“It’s not Carlos.” You replied before his door swung open. Without saying a word he looked down the hallways, making sure no one was looking before he pulled you against his chest and inside of his room. “Fucking hell Charles!” Your arms wrapped around his neck as you steadied yourself against him. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” With his hands on your waist, he steadied you himself as he pulled back slightly to look down at you. 

“I came to give you your shirt back-”

“And you thought now was a good time?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Maybe because I stormed off and now every journalist in this building is attempting to hunt me down for a comment and if they see you coming into my room with my shirt they’ll lose their minds!” 

“Relax there was no one outside.” 

“For now! They’ve been knocking on the door all night.” Slumping down on his bed he ran his hands through his hair. “Why come tonight? Wanted to gloat about winning again?” 

You shrugged, throwing his shirt towards him. “I don’t need to gloat when I know you think about me every single day.” 

“So full of yourself Verstappen.” 

“Hard not to be when you’re one of the best in the world.” Charles rolled his eyes at your words. 

“You aren’t exactly one of the greats-”

“Yet.” You cut him off, taking a step closer to him. “I’m no Schumacher but I’m up there, after all, I was the youngest person to ever win a world championship.” 

“So?” 

“So I’m in control of my racing future, something you clearly don’t have a grip on.” 

“Really?” Charles smirked as he parted his legs, leaning forward he grabbed the backs of your thighs and pulled you into him. He fell back on the bed with you falling on top of him, his hands now moving to your waist, holding you in place. 

“Charles?” You tried to move back but his grip wouldn’t let you. “What the hell was that for?” 

“You think you have control of things but everything can change in a heartbeat.” 

“And you wanted to prove that to me by pulling me on top of you?” 

“Worked didn’t it?”

“It was stupid… like your strategy today.” His smirk dropped at your words, and using his grip on you he flipped the two of you over. 

Looking down at you he spoke. “As if I have any control over that.” 

“But you do.” 

He scrunched his face up at your words. “Hardly-” 

“You told me that you think you have control of things but everything can change in a heartbeat, Ferrari thinks they’re in control of things but you can change it in a heartbeat. Go against them-” 

“And what if it goes wrong?”

“But what if it goes right?” 

You had a point, a point that Charles was thinking very seriously about. If he went against Fearri and won it would prove to them that he could be trusted to make the decisions that Ferarri continued to get wrong. If he got it wrong then he could at least live with the fact that he tried and clearly both he and Ferrari needed to work on things. 

“Lost in thought Leclerc?”

“When you aren’t being a smug prick you actually speak sense.”

“I’ve always spoken sense Leclerc, you just never listen.” 

“Clearly.” His eyes searched yours for a second too long. 

He knew he shouldn’t think about you like he was but after seeing you in the dress and now laying beneath him it was hard not to think about the Verstappen girl as his. Despite the hatred towards you he couldn’t help but think about you by his side. You were stunning and every single driver had tried it on with you well… they tried until Max began to linger around more than he normally did. It was clear to Charles that Max was overprotective when it came to his twin and Charles couldn’t blame him. Constant fliting from every single driver and not to mention interviewers who loved to ask you sexist questions in the hope of a reaction they could use to paint you in a bad light meant Max became your shadow. 

“Mr Leclerc?” A loud voice and hushed whispers sounded from outside his room. 

“There’s still time for an interview!” Another voice called out. 

“Oh just fuck off…” His head fell against your chest as he took a deep breath. “You do realise that if they’re going to camp outside my room until the early hours of the morning for a story then you can’t leave.” He raised his head to meet your eyes again. 

“As long as you take the chair and I’ll have the bed.” A teasing grin spread across your lips as you searched his eyes. 

“Deal.” 

Charles had given you one of his shirts to sleep in and much to your disgust it has his name printed on the back and the Ferarri logo printed on the front. He sat on the edge of the bed in just his boxers, his phone in his hand waiting to get a photo of the Redbull stargirl in his shirt with his name on her back. 

“It’s hideous.” You called out to him from his bathroom. 

“Oh come on y/n you don’t look that bad, I know you’re related to Max but-” You swung the door open, your eyes burning into his smiley expression. “Turn around.” His smile grew as you turned around. Raising his phone he took a quick picture before holding it up to you. “Well, that’s my new lock screen sorted.” If looks could kill Charles would be buried six feet under. 

“Delete that!” You jumped forward, straddling him in an attempt to grab his phone. His free hand fell to your waist, his eyes flickered down as he watched his shirt ride up your body. You were going to be the death of him. 

“I’ll make you a deal Verstappen.” 

“Go on.” 

“Let me pass in Canada and I’ll delete it.”

“If I let you pass you have to wear a Redbull shirt with my name on the back.” 

“Deal.” You gave him a quick glance before moving off your rival and sat in the chair he was meant to sleep in. 

“So if I let you pass are you going to challenge Ferarri and their shit strategies?” 

“You’ve convinced me you know.” He moved his duvet to cover his slight problem, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you but that was something to tease him for another night. “It might all go wrong but it might all go right.”

“Exactly and you didn’t get that seat by following the rules.”

He laughed at your words. “You sound like my Dad.”

“He’d be so proud of you Charles.” 

You’d grown up with Charles and therefore knew his Dad. The day he passed you’d never seen someone so broken. Charles did his best to keep himself together for his family but you saw straight through him. You caught him sobbing in the garages and without a thought, you knelt down beside him and wrapped your arms around him and let him cry into your chest for however long he needed. You two didn’t utter a word during the interaction and you never spoke about it after.

His eyes softened at your words, his gaze never leaving yours. “Thank you, I hope so.”

“He would be, never doubt that Leclerc.”

“I didn’t know you could be so kind.” Smirking he spoke again. “Thought the Verstappens were stone cold.”

“Liar.” You matched his facial expressions.

“How’s your Dad? Still as brutal as he once was?” Charles didn’t even know half of it, sure he’d heard rumours but he never knew the truth about yours and Max’s childhood.

“Of course, he never changes.” Charles watched as your eyes left his gaze and fell to the floor. He watched as you tugged at the hem of his shirt before you spoke again. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I’d gone to live with my Mum and Victoria but I guess I wouldn’t be here now.”

“Do you miss her?”

“All the time. The problem is me and Max travel all the time for work, Victoria has her own life and when my Dad is at the races my Mum won’t turn up.” He nodded, unsure of what to say but you beat him to it. “But I have Max and without him, I’d be lost.”

“You’re lucky you have one another.”

“So are you and your brothers, especially Arthur. One day you’ll be racing alongside one another.” 

“My Mum would hate it.”

“Why?”

“She’d be worried that we’d fall out, too busy fighting one another on the track and off the track.”

“Maybe if he joins Ferarri the two of you can bond over how shit the cars are.” 

He laughed at your statement, throwing his head back as he shifted in his spot. “Do you and Max ever argue over the races?”

“More as kids but now that we’re in F1 we never argue, it’s a rarity if we do. You and Arthur will be fine.” 

His smile never faded. “I hope so. We’ve all come a long way from karting.”

“Who would’ve thought?” 

“Thought you would’ve got bored of overtaking all us lads.” His smile turned to a smirk. 

“I’ll never get bored of overtaking you, Leclerc.” 

The pair of you spent the night talking over your childhoods, spending hours on end reminiscing the karting days and the more recent races. In this moment anyone would’ve thought the two of you had been friends for years, the way you two laughed with one another made you wonder why the pair of you had ever been as rude to one another as you once were. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

Hours passed and Charles watched as you fell asleep in the hotel chair. A soft smile spread across his lips as he gently picked you up bridal style, his smile growing as he watched your head fall against his chest. He slowly lowered you down onto the mattress before joining you. Pulling the duvet across yours and his body he then wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. 

“If only you weren’t Max’s sister.” He muttered before falling asleep beside you. 

—

Canada was your next race and Charles didn’t lie when he said he was going to take your advice. You kept your end of the deal up and let him pass but that didn’t mean you’d let him win. In the end, you’d managed to overtake him and finished in P1 and Charles was right behind you in P2. The pair of you couldn’t stop smiling at one another whilst you shared one of many podiums together. The interaction was something Max couldn’t keep his eyes off of, one minute you were sending Charles into a barrier and the next, the pair of you were dousing one another in champagne. 

“God I hate this colour!” Charles yelled from your hotel bathroom. 

“Navy looks good on everyone-”

“Not me.” He stood before you in your room, holding up his end of the deal he was wearing a shirt with your name on the back. 

“Show me the back.” The brunette reluctantly turned around. Much like he’d done with you, you took a picture of him. “My name looks good on you.”

“Mine looked better on yours.” He smirked back at you before the two of you burst into laughter but the happiness between you both didn’t last long.

Silverstone was arguably one of your favourite tracks, Max always seemed to struggle but you thrived on the historic track. Your words stayed in your rival's mind so much so that Charles won the race with you trailing in P2. P2 was a result any parent would be proud of for their child, especially in a sport as competitive as Formula 1. Max had to retire the car after three laps due to an engine failure so your Dad was already in a shitty mood and his daughter losing out to her rival had tipped him over the edge. 

Your team pulled you into large hugs, especially Christian who congratulated you with open arms but Jos didn’t even look at you. You tried to not let his attitude get to you but the memories of your childhood swarmed your head. Charles took his opportunity and poured his bottle of champagne down your neck which made you spin around and drench him in yours. The sight only angered Jos even more. He couldn’t believe you were acting like this after coming second and especially with Charles Leclerc.

After your interviews, Christian informed you that Jos wanted to see you in the garage. Brilliant. With a deep breath, you kept your head down and walked into the Redbull garage. “Dad? You wanted to see me?” 

He was leaning against your car, closely inspecting the machine before him. “What was that?”

“What was what?” 

“The race? P2? Really y/n?” 

“Dad I was still on the podium-”

“Not at the top you weren’t!” His voice grew. 

“Charles was the only driver that beat me, it was a close race… the car-”

“Stop blaming the car! It was your lack of skill-”

“My lack of skill? I’m a world champion I have enough skill-”

“Evidently not! You can’t even beat a man who isn’t even a world champion!” As he screamed he let his fist hit collide with a set of tools set beside you both. The sudden loud noise made you jump but that didn’t stop Jos. “You don’t become a world champion by coming in second, is Leclerc a world champion? No, he’s not, you wanna know why?” Jos stepped closer, his voice growing. “Because he’s a shit driver, he’s a pussy who can’t even make a decision, he doesn’t know whether to hit a wall or pit!”

“He’s a good driver…” Your voice was suddenly low. 

“What did you say?” Jos taunted.

“He’s a good driver…” 

“A good driver?” Your Dad scoffed. “If he’s your definition of a good driver then it’s no wonder why you didn’t win today.”

“Dad I’m still on track to win the championship this year, P2 isn’t a bad result.” 

“I didn’t raise you to come second, I raised you to win. If you can’t do that maybe you should rethink your career.” 

“Dad please-”

“Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you?” 

“Dad this isn’t about you-”

“You’re so selfish y/n. Do you think I wanted to get my daughter into F1? I always knew Max would be better than you. You’re lucky he has the talent he does because without it you wouldn’t be here and you know it.” He grabbed a tool and threw it towards the car, letting it bounce off close to you, yet again you jumped at his actions but this time tears threatened to spill. “You’re lucky that car is decent. You made me look like an idiot today and so did your brother, he was just lucky it was the car and not his lack of skill.” Jos stormed out of the garage, leaving you alone to sob your heart out. 

Your breathing started to quicken and the tears started to spill down your cheeks. Anytime Jos snapped at either you and Max the pair of you would be there for one another but Max was nowhere to be seen. He was more than likely hiding away from Jos in his room. Your hands clutched the side of the car as you attempted to steady your breathing but nothing was working, your body was shaking with fear as a panic attack swarmed your body but unbeknown to you Charles had been listening in the whole time.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Charles pulled you from the car and into his arms, you fell into his touch as the two of you slumped against the wall, falling to the floor as he pulled you close. “Shh, don’t cry… y/n you’re safe.” His hands cupped your face, tilting your head to look up at his. His thumbs quickly swiped away your tears as you continued to cry. “He can’t hurt you, I promise you I won’t let him ever do that again…”

“I’m sorry…” Your tears damped his hands. 

“What are you apologising for?”

“I- I don’t know…” Your head fell against his chest, your breathing speeding up yet again. 

“y/n please listen to me… I need you to listen… name three things you can see.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed at his question. 

“Trust me, name three things you can see.”

“Umm… you, the car and uh mechanic tools.”

“Three things you can smell.”

“Champagne, metal… you know from the cars… burnt rubber.” Your body had stopped shaking and your breathing was slowing down. 

“Three things you can feel.”

“You… the champagne still on my suit… umm… my race suit?”

He looked down at you, a smile on his lips as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Perfect.”

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Stopped the panic attack, didn’t it?” You hadn’t even realised that you’d stopped shaking and your tears had slowed, your body was closer to his as he spoke. “When my Dad died I couldn’t stop getting panic attacks and my Mum would always ask me those questions and it would always work.” You smiled into his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it.”

“Why were you outside?” Pulling away from his chest you looked up at him. 

“I wanted to thank you and well… tell you something.”

“Thank me for what?”

“What you said to me weeks ago, about taking control. I did and I finally won a race this season.”

“Told you.”

“Who knows, maybe if we’d been caught together sooner I could’ve beaten you to a world championship.”

“You’re still driving a Ferarri Leclerc.”

“Maybe I’ll join Redbull one day.”

“You think you could take Max’s seat?”

“Was more thinking of your seat.” His face lit up after seeing you break into a smile. 

“Dream on Leclerc, you’ve got a better chance of winning a championship with Ferarri.” You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed at your words. “Charles?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you want to tell me?” 

He hesitated and now it looked as if he was the one who was going to break into a panic attack. “I’m sorry if this is rash or I’ve read everything wrong but I can’t keep this to myself anymore, y/n I like you and never in my life did I ever think I’d ever fall for my childhood rival, especially a Verstappen but that night we spent together when we were hiding from the press just felt different. Everything from the conversation to the way you fell asleep on my chest just felt right. I know you may not feel the same but even if you don’t I need to tell you, even if it means your brother will kill me… I-” 

Your hands cupped his jaw before putting your lips on his. Charles didn’t hesitate to pull you onto his lap, deepening the kiss as his hands trailed down your race suit. Your hands raked through his hair, tugging on his locks which made him groan into the kiss. In that moment everything bad that had happened to you that day had disappeared. Eventually, you both pulled back, breathlessly looking into one another's eyes. 

“Why did you have to be a Leclerc?” You smiled at him. 

“And why did you have to be a Verstappen?” 

—

That was two years ago. Two years ago the two of you had decided to make it official and two years were spent hiding it from Max and the rest of the world. Today was the first race of the season and you and Charles were spending the time you had left before having to pretend to hate one another. Your head was resting on his chest, your nails tracing his skin whilst his hands made their way through your hair. 

“How are you feeling about this season?” You moved your head to look up at him. 

“Confident enough to beat you.” He smirked down, his hands moving your hair from your face. “Can’t let you win a fourth championship, can I?” Last season you’d won and Charles had come second, Max had won the year before and Redbull had claimed the constructors championship for the sixth year in a row. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself already Leclerc, it’s only the first race.”

“Every race counts Verstappen.” 

He leant down and planted his lips onto yours, his hands moving to cup your jaw whilst the other grabbed your hip and moved you to straddle him. He tugged at your bottom lip which made you moan at his actions. The hand once cupping your jaw trailed down your chest and made its way underneath your shirt. Pushing your shirt higher up he moved away from the kiss and pulled your shirt off your body, leaving you in just your underwear before him. His hands reached up to your boobs, cupping them and smirking as you let out a soft moan. His head turned to look at the clock beside his bed. 

“We’ve got time.” 

“If it’s anything like your driving we’ll be late.” Your flushed face smirked at your own words. Rolling his eyes Charles flipped the two of you over as he replied. 

“Shut up y/n.” His lips connected with yours as the two of you shared one last moment with one another before having to face the cameras. 

Bahrain was always a spectacle. Being the first race of the season meant more eyes than ever before were on you. The race was about to be underway, Charles was starting at the front, you were in P2 and Max was in P3. As you climbed into your car Charles turned his head and winked although his wink was more like a forced heavy blink. No matter how many times he did the action it always made you smile. Making sure no one was looking he quickly mouthed ‘I love you’ before getting in the car. You mouthed back to him, a smile on your face before putting your helmet on and getting into the car. 

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Verstappen gets a good start but Leclerc is holding off as best he can!” You may be his girlfriend but Charles would never let you pass easily but you didn’t need his kindness. After a few laps, you were able to overtake Charles, he was still firmly behind. 

After thirty laps you decided to pit before coming out behind your boyfriend. It didn’t take long for your tyres to warm up and within a few laps, you’d overtaken your boyfriend again. Just like the past few seasons, Redbull had completely dominated the tracks and now you were slowly coming up behind Pierre Gasly. Gasly had been given the instructions to let you pass and reluctantly he did so. As the Frenchman reluctantly moved out of the way he suddenly lost control of his car as he went around a corner, his car spun and hit yours and driving at hundreds of miles an hour, your car went flying into one of the barriers. 

The second your car collided with a barrier and Gasly spun out a red flag was immediately deployed on the track. “y/n are you okay?” You heard the familiar voice of Christian through your radio. Your whole body screamed in pain as you attempted to leave the car but it was too much. Your head fell back as you took deep breaths, trying to steady yourself when a sudden surge of heat started to warm your body. 

“Shit.” You mumbled and suddenly instincts kicked in. Despite the surge of pain you quickly scrambled to get yourself out of the car. Just as you started to climb out your head began to spin and before you knew it, everything went black. 

Meanwhile, Charles was slowly driving up to the scene before him. “Red flag, red flag, go slow and return to the pits.” His radio filled his ears. 

“What’s happened?”

“Verstappen and Gasly had an incident, both cars are out.”

“Are they okay?” 

“Gasly is out, no word from Verstappen yet.”

As the words filled his head Charles looked at the sight before him. A Redbull car clearly displaying your number on the side was being swarmed in flames. He didn’t think for a second. Charles stopped his car and quickly jumped out, little did he know your brother was following suit. The pair of them didn’t get far before being stopped by the stewards who begged them to return to their cars and head back to the pits. 

An ambulance quickly arrived and Charles and Max watched you being stretched onto the vehicle before being taken to a nearby hospital. “Why did you run out?” Max asked as he turned on his heel and returned to his car. 

A teary-eyed Charles looked at your brother, his breathing getting worse as he knew he had to tell Max what was really going on. “Max I’m sorry… we should’ve told you-”

“Told me what?” His patience had left his body. “Fucking hell spit it out, Leclerc!” 

“I love her Max! We’ve been together for two years and now she’s in a fucking ambulance and I don’t know if she’s okay… fuck what if she’s seriously hurt?” His hands ran through his hair as tears started to fall down his cheeks, panic taking over. 

At this moment Max wanted to rip him limb from limb. He wanted Charles to be in the back of that ambulance not you but the sight of him breaking down into tears and on the verge of a panic attack he couldn’t even let those thoughts come to fruition. If what he said was true and the two of you were together then it was clear he cared for you. No sane person would ditch their car and run out onto a track with cars driving fast enough to kill someone in an instant unless they really cared for them. Max took a step forward and pulled Charles in for a hug. Charles didn’t care if he was taken off guard by Max’s actions, he wrapped his arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. 

“She’ll be okay,” Max spoke. “Let's get back to the pits and I’ll drive us to the hospital.” Your boyfriend nodded as he pulled away before he and your brother made their way back to the pits.

—

“Hello Miss Verstappen I’m Doctor Sharp.” You’d just climbed back into your race suit after some routine checks as a tall blonde woman began speaking to you. “You’re results from the scan are normal, we suspect you fainted due to the crash impact and the panic.”

“So I’m okay?” You asked. 

“You are.” She smiled. “I’ve forwarded the information to your race principal as your brother didn’t return my calls.”

“Who’s winning the race?” 

She laughed at your words. “You could have received a very serious head injury yet all you can think of is Formula 1? Well Russell is leading, Piastri is running P2 and Hamilton is in P3.” 

“You a fan of F1?” 

“I am which is why I was rather surprised to see you in here, never did I think a Verstappen would crash out.” You laughed gently at her words. 

“We all have our off days.” 

“We do indeed Miss Verstappen.” She handed you some medication. “There are some strong painkillers for you. Take them twice a day, I recommend morning and evening to help you through the day and sleep. The pain should subside in a couple of days but you have a month's supply in there. Any therapy you do for your skin should be done more often now, hot baths or showers will be your best friend for a while.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I have requested for a taxi to take you home or someone to come pick you. Again, I called your brother but I’ve had no reply-” 

“y/n!” Max’s voice cut the doctor off. Both he and Charles swung the doors open and sprinted to your bedside. “Is she okay?” Max asked the woman by your side. 

“She’s fine, she just took a big knock. You’re lucky you have fireproof suits otherwise the outcome would have been a lot worse.” She now turned to you. “You can come home with them, just tell reception when you leave. I’ll leave you to it.” She winked before leaving you with your brother and boyfriend.

“I’m going to fucking kill Gasly, absolute twat. Wasn’t that hard to let you through!” Max spat as he came to your side. 

“Max it was a mistake-”

“A mistake that could’ve cost your life!” 

“But it didn’t, I’m fine. It’s not like he meant it.” Your eyes flickered over to Charles who was standing watching the two of you with tears in his eyes. “Hello, Charles.” You wondered how he’d managed to travel with your brother without Max killing and questioning his actions. 

“Hi, y/n…” His voice broke as he spoke. 

“I know by the way.” Max grabbed your attention. “He told me.” 

“Told you what?” 

“You must’ve hit your head if you can’t remember that he’s your boyfriend.” Max smiled. “Look we’ll talk about it later but just know this as long as you’re happy then that’s all I care about but this doesn’t mean I like him.” 

Your hand fell on top of Max’s. “Thank you.” You fell into his chest, the two of you embracing in a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. I knew you would be.” He laughed slightly as he pulled back. “I’ll leave you two, I’m just going to call Mum and Dad and let them know you’re okay.” He backed off to the door. “Try anything and I’ll put you through the wall.” Max glared at Charles before leaving the room. 

Within seconds Charles had his lips pressed onto yours, his hands cupping your jaw as he savoured every single second of the kiss. “He might be my best friend but I’m going to kill Gasly too.” You both smiled at his words. “How are you, my love?”

“My body aches but I’m fine, she’s given me medication so I should be okay.” 

“Thank God.” He planted another short kiss on your lips. “Look, I’m sorry that I told Max. It wasn’t my place and we should’ve told him together but seeing the fire and you in the ambulance I just couldn’t control my emotions, he asked why I just got out of my car and I told him. I’m sorry-”

“Charles you don’t need to apologise. I need to speak to Max about it. I shouldn’t have left it 2 years to tell my brother… my Dad is going to kill me.”

“For what part? The race or dating me?” 

“Both.” Your smile returned to your lips. 

“I won’t let him. He won’t ever raise his voice to you again.”

“My knight in shining armour.” You both broke into smiles before Charles kissed you once more. 

Max would never approve of the idea of you and Charles dating but it was something he would slowly warm up to although he’d never let Charles win whether he was your boyfriend or not and neither would you. He could ask you to marry him and you’d still make sure he’d never win as long as you were on the track. Your Mum was over the moon and loved Charles like he was one of her, your Dad on the other hand acted like you’d just thrown your career down the drain. The fans… well… they were ecstatic. 

---

Buy me a coffee <3

baby on the loose | charles leclerc

“She won’t get lost, I’ll hold her hand the entire time.”

y/n heard Charles say as she got her daughter ready for the day. It was a Sunday, the US Grand Prix to be exact. Her daughter, Ruby, or as the internet knew her by baby leclerc, was going through that phase where she was curious about everything so she wanted to explore as much as she could. That meant y/n was having panic attacks every minute because the little girl wanted to explore every single thing.

“You’re going to be busy, love. We’ll just be in your driver’s room, right Ruby?” y/n asked the girl, who was too busy playing with her toy cars that her uncle carlos bought her.

“But I want our daughter to see me race. This is her first Grand Prix, mon amour.” Charles begged. He wanted his daughter to finally see him race. Before, Ruby had only seen him race through the tv.

“I know how much this means to you so fine. We’ll watch from the garage.” y/n smiled at her husband. His lips turned into a huge smile when he heard that his little girl was finally going to see him race.

“You hear that, ruby? You’re going to see papa race!” Charles looked down to where ruby was supposed to be, but the little girl wasn’t there playing with her cars like she was before.

“That sneaky little girl. Ruby!” Y/n yelled as she looked everywhere for the girl. She then heard giggles coming from underneath the bed.

“Where is my baby?” Charles called out. He then waited a few seconds until Ruby popped out from under the bed with a smile on her face.

“Here!” She said excitedly then threw herself onto Chares. “I’m here papa.”

“There’s my big girl. Listen, you and maman are going to see me race. Isn’t that exciting?” Charles pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead.

“Race this car?” Ruby pointed to the car that had fallen to the ground.

“A much bigger version of this car, mon chérie. It’s bigger than you! But you have to promise me one thing. You’re going to stay with maman. No running off because where papa races there will be many people and we don’t want you to get lost. Okay? Stay with your mother and then we can go get ice cream when papa wins the race.”

Ruby was a little girl, she didn’t really listen to anything Charles had said until he mentioned the word ice cream. So when the family made it to the paddock, the girl was impatient. All she wanted was to wander around, but her mom wouldn’t let her.

“Okay, I have to go. I’ll see you two after. I love you.” Charles kissed his wife’s lips then crouched down to his daughters level. “Remember stay with your mother.”

“Ice cream after?” Ruby smiled

“Yes, Ruby, ice cream after.” Charles kissed ruby on the cheek then waved goodbye to his family.

y/n waved goodbye, but squinted her eyes since the bright sun was blinding her. “Where are my sunglasses? Ruby, come here so mama can put sunscreen on you.” y/n opened her bag to find her sunglasses then the bottle of sunscreen for Ruby. As she put on her sunglasses, y/n opened up the bottle of sunscreen, ready to smear some on ruby’s face, but when the mom looked down the little girl was gone.

“Ruby? Oh god, not right now. Ruby!” Y/n stuffed the sunscreen back into her bag and began her search for her daughter.

In reality, Ruby didn’t go that far. While her mom was saying goodbye to her dad, Ruby saw her uncle pierre walk by so she ran to him as fast as her little legs could take her. But the thing with ruby was that she was easily distracted so before she could even make it to Pierre, she saw a woman walk by wearing her orange mclaren shirt that reminded her of the one she had seen her uncle Daniel wear several times on tv so she followed the woman just to tell her that her uncle Daniel had the exact same shirt.

“So Daniel, any pre race rituals for today?”

Ruby didn’t know where she was. All she heard was some woman talking to Daniel. Her uncle Daniel.

“Just same old rituals…”

“Uncle Daniel!” Ruby yelled, but the Aussie driver couldn’t hear her little yells over all the commotion in the paddock.

Ruby quit her attempts at trying to get Daniel’s attention so she continued her adventures wherever her legs took her. That’s basically how she ended up in the Red Bull garage listening to Christian Horner talk to his team.

From the corner of his eye, Christian spotted the little girl paying attention to him as if she knew what he was talking about. “And who might you be, young lady?”

“Ruby Jules Louise Leclerc. I think.” Ruby replied which got a laugh from Christian and the rest of the Red Bull team.

“You think?” The team principal asked.

“I can’t remember which one goes first, but my dad and mom call me ruby. But I like Jules better. It sounds pretty.” Ruby admitted.

“It is pretty. You’ve got a very pretty name. And where’s your mother?” Christian questioned. he had met the girl’s mom before, but he couldn’t spot her anywhere.

“I don’t know. I saw uncle Pierre and i wanted to say hi to him but then I saw a lady with the same shirt uncle Daniel has and then I saw uncle Daniel but he didn’t see me and now I’m here talking to you.” The girl explained.

“Ah, I see. Your mother must be looking for you. Come on.” Christian took the girl’s hand and led her out the Red Bull garage.

“Where are we going?” Ruby asked.

“To get you back to your parents.”

“Can we get ice cream first?”

And that’s how Christian Horner ended up in the Ferrari garage.

“I believe I caught one of your tiny spies in my garage, Leclerc.” Christian announced as he brought the young girl to her dad, who was talking with his teammate.

“He gave me ice cream!” Ruby showed her dad the ice cream cone that Christian bought her.

“Where where you been?” Charles picked up his daughter.

Ruby shrugged and continued eating her ice cream. “My guess is that the little one ran off so y/n is probably freaking out looking for her. Kelly was with me when I bought her the ice cream. She told me she would text y/n that Ruby was found and that I was bringing her back to you.” Christian explained.

“I made a friend, daddy, her name is Penelope but her mama calls her P. We got ice cream together.” Ruby said.

“Ruby, you shouldn’t run off like that. What did I tell you?” Charles asked.

“That we would get ice cream.”

“Wow, Perceval.” Carlos laughed. “I mean, no ruby listen to your dad.”

“I said to stay with maman and you didn’t.” Charles frowned.

“This is a big place for a little girl like you, Ruby Jules.” Christian said to the girl.

“She told you her whole name?” Charles asked.

Christian nodded. “She says she prefers Jules because it’s pretty.”

“Like uncle Jules!” Ruby said with a smile. That made Charles crack a smile.

“Yes, just like uncle Jules. Thank you Christian.” Charles said to the Red Bull team principal.

“No problem. And you, little lady, stay out of trouble and stop spying on me. I know you’re a working with Ferrari so your dad can win. I’ve got my eye on you.” Christian played along as he left the Ferrari garage.

“I’m a spy, daddy!” Ruby giggled as Charles put her on the ground.

“Yeah? Well little miss spy, let’s go find maman and tell her you’re okay so she doesn’t have a heart attack.”

“Uncle Carlos, you want ice cream?” Ruby asked the Spanish man.

“I’m okay, cariño. Come on, let’s go find your mama.”

Yeah, it was a chaotic start to Ruby’s first Grand Prix. One that she will always remember.

runaway baby | charles leclerc

this is the second time I’m writing this because my wifi turned off and i forgot to save and all my work was deleted and i almost cried but here it is :) requests open for the baby leclerc series!!

part 2 to baby on the loose is here :)

“Carmen! George! Have you seen Ruby? She wandered off a minute ago.”

George shook his head. “No, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Carmen too her phone out and texted Lily to look for Ruby. “I just told Lily about Ruby. We’ll help look around.”

“Thanks. Let me know if you find her.” Y/N sighed and walked in the direction of the Aston Martin garage.

“Ruby! Your favorite uncle wants to see you!” George yelled, ignoring the stares he got from people passing by.

“Love, I think we all know that Ruby’s favorite uncle is Pierre.” Carmen told him.

“I know but if Ruby hears me saying that then she might come out and correct me.”

Once Y/N made it to the Aston Martin garage, she asked around for Ruby but everyone said the same thing. They hadn’t seen her.

“Y/N, hey, how are you?” Y/N heard Sebastian greet her when he entered the garage.

“I could be better. Ruby ran off and I can’t find her.” Y/N said.

Sebastian could see that at any second, Y/N was going to burst out into tears so he brought the mom in for a much needed hug. Y/N was forever grateful for a friend like Sebastian. She wasn’t ready to see him leave, but he deserved a good retirement.

“Does Charles know?”

“I was so focused on finding Ruby that I haven’t told Charles yet. He’s going to think I’m such a bad mother.” Y/N wiped away a tear that slipped out.

“Stuff like this happens to even the most careful parents. Don’t worry, we are going to find her. I’ll call Britta to start looking for her. Come on, let’s go find Charles.”

Sebastian and Y/an headed to the Ferrari garage and soon spotted Charles talking with Carlos,

“Charles!” Y/N yelled at her husband, grabbing his attention.

“Oh, someone’s in trouble. What did you do?” Carlos teased, completely unaware of the situation.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Ruby?” Charles asked once he noticed that Ruby wasn’t around.

“After you left Ruby ran off. I can’t find her.” Y/N admitted.

“Oh. Then forget what I said I’m sorry.” Carlos awkwardly apologized.

“It’s okay Carlos, you didn’t know.” Y/N sighed. “Carmen, George and Lily are looking for her.”

“Britta is looking for her as well. I’ll go see if anybody else has seen her. We will find her, don’t worry.” Sebastian assured the couple as he exited the garage and quickly walked to the next one in search of the little girl.

“I just took my eyes off of her for a second and then she was gone. It happened so fast.” Y/N leaned on her husband for support. She felt like her knees were going to give out. All she wanted was her daughter back.

Charles led her to a nearby chair, whispering soothing words to her. He then grabbed his unopened water bottle and gave it to her.

“Stay here, I’ll go look for her. If you need anything, let the team know.” Charles placed a kiss on her lips then walked back to where he was previously with Carlos.

“Alright, I think we should start in the Alpha Tauri garage, she might’ve spotted Pierre or something.” Charles instructed.

“So it is true?”

“Yeah, Pierre is her favorite. Don’t tell anyone, especially Arthur.” Charles confirmed.

“I believe I caught one of your tiny spies in my garage, Leclerc.” Charles heard Christian Horner’s voice say as he made his way into the Ferrari garage. Charles instantly smiled at the sight of his little girl safe.

“He gave me ice cream!” Ruby said holding up the ice cream cone.

After thanking Christian for bringing his daughter back safe, Carlos, Charles and Ruby walked to where Y/N. She was looking down at her phone when she heard her daughter’s voice call her.

“Maman!” Ruby ran to her mom after shoving her half melted ice cream cone in her dad’s hands.

“My girl, you scared me today. That’s not a nice things to do, Ruby Jules. Papa told you to stay with me and you didn’t.” Y/N brought the girl into her arms and held her as if it was the last time.

“I’m sorry, mama. I wanted to see Uncle Pierre and then I saw Uncle Danny but he didn’t see me. And then P and I got ice cream with her maman.” Ruby told Y/N about her whole paddock adventure.

“I see you finally met P and Kelly. But that still wasn’t a nice thing to do, baby. You should’ve told me that you wanted to see Uncle Pierre and we could’ve gone together.” Y/N explained to the little girl.

“Sorry, maman. I won’t do it again.” Ruby kissed her mother’s cheek.

“You know Uncle George, Auntie Carmen and Lily are still looking for you.” Y/N told Ruby as she put her daughter on the ground.

“And Uncle Sebastian and his friend, Britta. Now, I’m going to go tell them that you’re with your mama, but you have to promise me that you’re not going to run off again. I’m seriously, Ruby. Stay with maman.” Charles crouched down to Ruby’s level.

“I promise.” Ruby nodded.

“Remember, you’re a spy. You’re undercover so the bad guys don’t hurt maman. You’re going to protect maman, right?” Charles asked, bringing his daughter in for a hug.

“I’m a spy.” Ruby said confidently.

“Okay, miss Ruby, your dad and I have to go. Give us some good luck.” Carlos held up his hand for Ruby to high five, which she did. “Oh! You’re a strong girl! I love you, cariño.” Carlos hugged Ruby one last time before he left the family have their moment.

“Give papa a kiss, Ruby.” Y/N said as Ruby wasted no time in throwing herself on Charles and giving him a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you, Ruby Jules.” Charles whispered to his daughter.

“I love you too . . Perceval.” Ruby teased.

“Alright, no more hanging out with Uncle Carlos.” Charles joked. “I’ll see you after the race. Remember, protect maman.”

“I will, papa. I’m a spy.” Ruby whispered and giggled.

“What’s all this spy talk? What am I missing?” Y/N laughed.

“Maman, I’m a spy. I have to protect you from the bad guys.” Ruby said casually so Y/N looked at her husband for an explanation.

“Horner called her a spy after he found her in the Red Bull garage.”

That explains it.

“Okay, I have to leave. I love you both.” Charles lowered Ruby down and placed one last kiss on her cheek. He then walked over to his wife and kissed her on the lips.

“Cooties!”

“I bet Lando taught her that.” Y/N laughed once she pulled away from Charles.

Soon, the race started. Y/N and Ruby were seated in the Ferrari garage watching Charles and cheering for him. By the end of the 58 laps, Charles had successfully ended the race in p1.

“Papa won!” Ruby cheered as the Ferrari team around her celebrated the victory.

“He did!” Y/N hugged the little girl.

When Charle’s name was announced, the first thing he did was try to find his family in the large group of people. Then he spotted them. Y/N was next to Kelly, each with their own daughter in their arms. They were distanced from the big crowd, but Charles was still able to find them.

Y/N pointed at Charles. “Look, papa is waving at you.”

“Papa!” Ruby yelled, waving her arms in the air.

Charles laughed and blew a kiss to his girls. As he took his place on the podium, the Monaco national anthem started to play. Ruby loved it so much that she started to sway in her mom’s arms and dramatically tried to sing along despite the anthem not having any words.

Charles could not contain his laughter. Even Max noticed Ruby’s passion for the national anthem and laughed as well.

After receiving the large champagne bottle, Charles and Max began to spray each other with it. All Ruby could think of was how fun that looked.

“Mama, can P and I do that with daddy and uncle Max?”

“Ask your papa.”

BLONDE? - charles leclerc

in which. . charles leclerc’s gf y/n takes the internet by storm by revealing that she was born a blonde and not a brunette — cl16 x f! reader

notes : new post after so so long! i’m sorry i went m.i.a for a while, i’m back tho! ( i hope 🤞🏼 ) this is so messy tho lmao

type : smau ⋆ face claim : minnarosaweber

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 79,286 others

y/nuser sunsets <3

charles_leclerc ma belle ❤️

liked by author

user1 she’s so pretty omfg

user2 if vroom vroom boy isn’t treating you well, you can always hmu queen 😍💪🏼

user3 her eyes are so pretty auwhdhhwbaja

user4 what i wouldn’t do just for y/n to look at me with those beautiful eyes

liked by charles_leclerc

user5 the sunset is almost as pretty as you 🤭

lilymhe my gf is the prettiest guys <3

y/nuser MY gf is THE most gorgeous woman alive 🫶🏼🤭

alex_albon bro wdym?? 🤨

y/nuser sucks to suck 😋

charles_leclerc …cherie :(

y/nuser MY BABY ILY THE MOST I PROMISE ☹️🫶🏼🫶🏼

liked by charles_leclerc, kellypiquet, and 68,927 others

y/nuser strawberries with chocolate 🍓🍫

user1 HER EYES

user2 god? i’ve seen what you’ve done for others. when will it be my turn?💔

user3 IM HERE BEFORE CHARLES OMG

charles_leclerc no you’re not.

user3 OH FUCK OFF

charles_leclerc mon cœur ❤️ ( my heart )

y/nuser mon tout 🫶🏼 ( my everything )

scuderiaferrari our pretty red princess ❤️

y/nuser my fav admin ever 🫶🏼🤭

scuderiaferrari omg hi queen 🤭

user4 just looked at myself and sighed

y/nuser no way! you’re literally so pretty 🫶🏼

user4 omg TYSM IM CRYING ILYSM

y/nuser 🫶🏼🫶🏼

liked by charles_leclerc, iamrebbacad and 1,364,898 others

y/nuser 👧🏼👩🏻

user1 WAIT WHAT

user2 SHES A BLONDE???

charles_leclerc ma bien-aimée, tu es la plus belle personne que j'ai jamais vue et je continuerai à le croire jusqu'à mon dernier souffle ❤️ ( my beloved, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen and I will continue to believe that until my last breath ❤️ )

y/nuser cha :( i love you so so so so much, you’re my world and so much more

user4 i’m so going to sleep on the highway tonight 😍

user5 user4 lemme join you 😍

user3 SO SHES BEEN GORG SINCE BIRTH??

user6 OH GOD REALLY DOES HAVE FAVOURITES THEN. FUCK YOU BRO

user7 FUCK THIS SHIT BRO. MY ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE WHAT THE HELL

user8 girlie just dropped the reel that WILL break the INTERNET and said 👧🏼👩🏻 as her caption 💀💀

iamrebbecad pretty girl 🫶🏼

y/nuser prettiest girl ever 🫶🏼🫶🏼

this is so disgustingly domestic that it hurts me ☹️☹️

Charles Tries Piano Tiles - CL16

pairing: Charles Leclerc x long-time gf!reader

summary: it's bedtime and Piano Tiles is kicking your ass, so why not spread the gift to your loving boyfriend?

tags: vomit-worthy domesticity, purely fluff, yeah they're just too cute

a/n: this is kinda all over the place and ass but whatever

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

It's late at night, both of you tucked up into bed all cozy besides one another. Charles is reading some book he found at the local market, glasses you fondly refer to as old man spectacles propped on the end of his nose. Your arms are pressed together just like your legs are tangled beneath the soft blanket, the comfortable silence having been curated over your long term relationship. Charles loved the peace you brought into his life and how everything seemed to soften around you; every moment with you is one engraved in his heart, soul, and mind.

"Fuck!" The explicative comes out of the blue, your boyfriend startling next to you. As he glances over in confusion, his heart melts further. You look absolutely adorable with your little frustrated pout and furrowed brows. A smile tugs at his lips as he peers over your shoulder, only to dim once more to confusion.

"Love.. what are you doing?" He murmurs, watching your fingers tap little black boxes on a scrolling screen. A faint song plays from your phone, one he'd previously tuned out in favor of listening to your breathing; a sound that always soothes him.

"Piano Tiles." You mutter, too focused on correctly playing the Can-Can to look at your darling boyfriend. You've been trying to beat this song for God knows how long, the Can-Can haunting your dreams like Ferrari haunts his. At your response Charles leans closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck and cheek to distract you. From this, you mess up and the Can-Can mocks you from Hell.

"Why are you playing this game? I can teach you piano!" He offers, the idea making him light up in a way that relaxes the wrinkle between your eyebrows. You place your phone down beside you, knowing if you see that losing screen for one more second your phone will end up embedded in the wall. Charles, unaware of your seething rage at the children's game, seems absolutely taken by the thought of teaching you his passion.

"I have many books we can use and I'm sure you will love it.. oh, we can do duets!" He borderline squeals, already halfway out of bed as if it isn't almost twelve. You gently take his hand and pull him back, chuckling quietly.

"It's time for bed, remember?" A grin spreads across your face as a pout takes over his, his body slumping back beside you. Charles sulks, but then again, he sulks at everything. Knowing the perfect remedy to his silly dilemma that is time, you grab your phone and open the cursed app again.

"Would you like to play Cha?" The sickeningly sweet smile on your face should be noticeable, but Charles is too excited to learn something from you to care. Whenever you offer to teach him something, no matter how miniscule or simple, he suddenly becomes the most dutiful student with a slight (extreme) staring problem. He carefully takes your phone and, after a bit of direction, begins playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. He finds it easy, just like how his ego is easily inflated.

"My love, this is so simple. I promise that real piano is much more challenging, you would like it more." Charles exclaims, your earlier frustrations still not clicking with him. A wonderful, potentially cruel idea forms in your brain. That same smile spreads across your face and you rest your head on his shoulder to further lull him into a false sense of security you secretly use any excuse to touch him.

"Here's the one I was playing, maybe you can teach me it?" You click on the dastardly Can-Can, almost feeling pity at the naive confidence he displays. An excited smile glows on his face at the mention of teaching you; He'll take any excuse to spend time with you and getting to be squished beside you on a piano stool is a definite plus. When the song starts though, that confidence drains almost instantly. He manages to play for roughly seven seconds.

You giggle quietly as he tries again, and again, and again... and, you guessed it, again. By this point he's frowning and mumbling curses you don't think he even knows the meanings of, his shoulder tense beneath your cheek. Trying to draw him out of his relentless torture cycle, you gently kiss his stubbled jaw. Charles puts your phone down, all attention instantly on you as he relaxes.

".. Why would you introduce me to this game?" Charles asks, wrapping an arm around you to hold you closer. You cuddle into his side, tracing shapes over his white sleep shirt.

"Everyone needs Piano Tiles trauma, it builds character." You explain, peering up at him from his chest. Unable to resist such a cute sight, he kisses your forehead as his other arm comes around to hold onto your hip. A laugh bubbles in his chest though once he registers your words, only growing when he realizes you're fully serious.

"Really? You do this to me for character development?" Charles gasps as though you've offended every part of him, shaking his head.

"I can never forgive this crime my love." He tuts as you sit up a little. It's obvious what his charade is since he does it at any chance he can whether that be you forgetting a goodbye kiss or just bumping into him. A dramatized sigh escapes your lips as you cup his face, ready to plead for mercy over this horrendous offense.

"How can I make it up to you hm?" You hum, kissing the tip of his nose and giggling when it skews his old man spectacles. His nose scrunches at the peck and he glances up at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought. As he ponders what could give you retribution, you play around with his soft hair, giggling to yourself as you make pigtails and whatnot.

"I will forgive you if.." He dramatically pauses, of course, and you tap the top of his head as a mock drumroll. A goofy grin breaks through his serious facade before he fixes his face.

".. You let me teach you piano tomorrow." He says decisively. Obviously you saw this coming and can only pray he forgets (he won't). Charles can get.. passionate while playing piano and with you struggling to play alongside him.. well, you've fallen off the bench enough that he puts pillows down to catch you.

"Yes, yes alright." You groan, tucking yourself back up under his chin. He laughs quietly, knowing your exact train of thought. As compensation though he holds you extra close, arms tightly wrapped around you and legs hopelessly tangled while he rubs your back. You feel sleep tugging at your eyes, the steady heartbeat of your boyfriend only makes it harder to stay up. Wordlessly you reach a hand up to take his glasses off, the movement second nature from the many times you've had to help out the forgetful man. He murmurs a quiet thank you, followed by an 'i love you' that never fails to warm you right up. At your whispered reciprocation his heartbeat speeds up a tick, one that you can hear and makes the task of tomorrow worth it.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵