Charles Leclerc X Reader - Blog Posts

hi can i request a charles x reader x alexandra?? reader is an actress (maybe lucy gray in the ballad of songbirds and snakes) its all very secret relationship so when the movie comes out everyone assumes she's dating tom blyth and alex and charles get jealous then hard launch

Or

Alex albon and lily dating kpop idol reader (maybe natty from kiss of life) and they react to the dance practice for their song "sticky"

Or

Pierre and kika with a filipino reader where they go to the philippines for the first time to meet reader's parents and everything else is up to u

Thank u !!

ahhh i love these ideas so much! i decided to go for the first one with alex and charles because i had a very similar request to that idea so i thought of combining them! BUT i do wanna write the one with pierre and kika as well so stay tuned for that 👀🤭

you can find the charles and alex's one here

the girl is mine | charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader x alexandra saint mleux

summary: when your new movie comes out, your boyfriend and girlfriend get jealous of fans shipping you with your costar, even though your relationship is still a secret to the public

fc: rachel zegler

request: here and here

a/n: and he wins in austinnnn! (with alex because apparently now i cannot write about charles without also writing about alex)

—

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oliviarodrigo and others

yourusername only a few days left until you get to see this incredible story on the big screen 👀🐍

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username can’t wait!

username so excited for this movie🙏🏽

username you’re exactly the way i imagine lucy gray would look like i’m so happy

username gotta love this era of y/n

username pretty girls love lucy gray baird! (liked by yourusername)

username mesmerized by the first picture alone

username ohhh the 12 year old girl in me who hiperfixated on the hunger games can’t wait for this 😩

alexandrasaintmleux’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 👀🐍] [caption 2: ❤️]

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and others

voguemagazine y/n y/l/n and tom blyth stunned in the red carpet premiere of the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds & snakes

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username is everyone thinking what i’m thinking…

username nahhh i ship them so bad

username they have so much chemistry i love them

username so cute 🥰

username new parents unlocked

username they’re so hot

username cause how can you look at that second picture and not immediately ship them?

username i don’t care if i sound delusional but they make a really good couple

liked by tomblyth, francisca.cgomes and others

yourusername a little behind the scenes and people i can’t get enough of! ✨🐍💗

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username i’m shipping even harder alright

username “people i can’t get enough of” please just confirm the rumors 😭

username no but that face card is insaaaane

username the movie was amazing!

tomblyth work it!

yourusername earn it!

username ahhh the dating confirmation when

username no but imagine if they were actually together how iconic would that be

username they look so cute together i’m- 🥺

alexandrasaintmleux 💚

yourusername 💗

liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux and others

charles_leclerc congratulations, my lucy gray, you’re the most talented person i know 💚 nous t'aimons avec notre âme, mon coeur <3 (we love you with our soul, my love)

tagged yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux

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username wait what

username rue… when was this

username no way they are dating THE y/n y/l/n

username i really expected anything but this 😭

username no but wait … they look good 👀

username what do you do when the hottest people you know reveal they’re dating each other on a random tuesday afternoon?

username they really saw the shipping with tom and said not on my watch

username i’m still processing this

yourusername love you 🥺🥺🥺

yourusername although i know the real reason you’re posting this 😑 but i’ll let it slide cause i like you

charles_leclerc nothing wrong with wanting to show off my girlfriend 😅

alexandrasaintmleux our*

alexandrasaintmleux i love you y/n you’re the most talented and the prettiest and kindest and ours🥰🥰🥰

yourusername love you too alex 😭

hi! first of all i love your storys

could you do driver x singer reader x wag (you can pick) and can the fc be taylor swift💜

tysm💗 can’t say no to a good f1 x taylor swift 🙈 you can find it here !!

bye | charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader x alexandra saint mleux, reader x ex!max verstappen

summary: when max breaks up with you, you find solace in his childhood rival and his stunning girlfriend

fc: taylor swift

request: here

a/n: guys i’m not even a charles girlie but he looked so happy in that podium i wanted to cry

—

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others

yourusername always the biggest pleasure, paris🤎

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username she’s unreal

username forever obsessed with this tour

username watching the video i record of vigilante shit over and over

username max verstappen can you fight??? 🤨

username the most magical night fr

alexandrasaintmleux 💗

charles_leclerc ☺️

username max not even liking this but charles and alex …

username they’re hilarious 😭

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and others

maxverstappen1 free practice was okay, now we can focus on quali and the race

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username no but max being furious and still finding a way to post charles 😭

username no power on earth can separate those two

username can’t believe we’re watching the fall of red bull in real time

username FREE MY MAN FROM THAT TRACTOR

username time for me to suggest y/n going to the grand prix and bring max good luck 😁

username frfr she hasn’t been in forever

username lestappen is alive and breathing i see

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f1wags y/n y/l/n on saturday and sunday at the paddock for quali and the grand prix

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username glad to see she’s still alive 😭

username omg i thought she wasn’t gonna go with the tour and everything

username the best wag everrr

username so iconic

username OMG SHE SAW THE COMMENTS

username y/n in the paddock means a good race for max i know it 🧿

username the way i had completely forgot she was dating max 😭

username those two don’t interact with each other anymore i swear 😩

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f1gossip max verstappen and girlfriend y/n y/l/n were seen fighting outside their hotel after the grand prix, y/n later walked away and left max alone

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username damn

username right after we thought everything was okay 😔

username no because the first gp my girl goes to after forever and they fight?

username idc what happened i’m blaming max

username lol agree

username guys be honest do you think they’re breaking up???

username my heart says no but my head says they haven’t been seen together for a while and when they do they always fight so…

username yes

liked by charles_leclerc, gracieabrams and others

yourusername fresh out the slammer … into the studio

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username HUH?

username miss girl ??? explain

username new music yay!

username is the caption a lyric or something ??? WDYM FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

alexandrasaintmleux sooo excited! 💕

yourusername 💞💞💞

username alex what do you know

username is this like a happy song or is it going to make me hate men?

username no because i need to know too 😩

liked by yourusername, flavy.barla and others

alexandrasaintmleux with a full heart ❤️

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username i love their friendship

username guys charles made it to the feed!

yourusername pretty gorgeous beautiful everything

alexandrasaintmleux 🤭

username no but y/n in the last slide took me out 😭

username SAME i thought this was a charles post

charles_leclerc favorite girls❤️

alexandrasaintmleux 💘

username “girls” ????

username explain !!?

username is this a safe space to say what i’m thinking? …

alexandrasaintmleux’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 🍝] [caption 2: 💘]

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ynupdates charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux, kika gomes and pierre gasly at tonight’s show of y/n’s tour in milan

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username i love their friendship they’re so supportive of her🥰

username now THAT is an outfit

username alexandra the fashion icon that you are

username this is such a green flag for all of them

username friends who support y/n >>>>

username notice how max has been quiet since y/n won charles in the divorce

username i know that man is FUMING

username no but seriously i’m glad she still has supportive friends after the break up 😔

username was i the only one who noticed that she kept looking at the vip tent while singing the love/crushing songs? 🤭

username which could mean nothing!

username WHAT WERE THE SURPRISE SONGS

username invisible string and sweet nothing!

username :0

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f1wags alexandra saint mleux and y/n y/l/n today at the paddock, y/n used to date max verstappen but recently broke up and was seen today at the ferrari hospitality with alexandra and charles, with whom she stayed friends

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username 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

username they both look so hot

username and if i say power couple then what 🤨

username i’d say alexandra has a boyfriend and you’re delusional 😭

username messyyyy

username the amount of money i would pay to know what’s going through max’s brain

username imagine losing THE y/n y/l/n and not only that but your rival since you’re four years old stayed friends with her

username he lost the break up

username we got y/n at the ferrari garage before gta 6

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: alexandrasaintmleux 🫶🏽🫶🏽] [caption 2: 🍸]

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and others

charles_leclerc mes trois coeurs❤️

tagged yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

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username DAMN

username what do you mean your three hearts? wydm!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

username honestly it makes so much more sense that they’re all dating 😭

username CONFIRMATION AT LAST

username the most drop dead gorgeous woman you’ll find and the cutest puppy on earth 🥰

username charles really won in life 😩

username and they called me crazy for even suggesting this 🙄

username POWER THROUPLE

scuderiaferrari the family as god intended🫶🏽

username ferrari 😭

yourusername gotta learn french asap!

alexandrasaintmleux we’ll teach you love💗

charles_leclerc de cette façon nous pouvons te dire que nous t'aimons dans toutes les langues chérie ❤️ (this way we can tell you we love you in every language dear)

yourusername ily both too much💘

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername monaco! you are one of the best crowds ever ❤️ i had too much fun singing from the top of my lungs with all of you and performing for the first time ever my two new singles, “fresh out the slammer” and “bye” 😽 i have the feeling we’ll see each other wayyy more often

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username STOP she’s so cute 😭

username i’m afraid “bye” is one of the best songs ever made and “fresh out the slammer” changed the trajectory of my life

username “boy bye it’s over its over oh yeah” GIRL-

username she had too much fun writing that one

username “didn’t think you’d lose me now it’s just too late to choose me” UHM

username if that song is not for max-

username RED DRESS FOR FERRARI IKTS

username “now pretty baby i’m running back home to you” the fact that she calls them home i- 🥺

username “another summer taking cover, he don’t understand me” i gasped

username y/n calling her relationship with max literal prision was not in my bingo card

charles_leclerc you’re incredibly mesmerizing love 😍 best concert ever!

alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest and most talented there is! 💗

yourusername je vous aime tous les deux❤️ (i love you both)

hii !!! I am obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter’s song please please please and I was wondering if you could please do a smau with Charles Leclerc based on it where they hard launch their relationship just like her and Barry did in that music video

hey love! i actually already have a fic with a pretty similar concept with charles, you can find it here 🤍

eternal sunshine | charles leclerc

summary: you and charles decide to fake date to get back at your exes

fc: ariana grande

a/n: a bit late (mostly because i didn’t had any time nor inspiration) but finally here it is, a fic about THE 2024 monaco grand prix winner

—

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f1.wags charles leclerc posted a statement earlier today confirming the end of his relationship with his girlfriend

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username NOOOOOO

username pls say sike pls say sike

username definitely not the way i wanted to start the weekend like

username so love is dead guys good to know 💔

username they were the it couple 😢

username im going to pretend i didn’t see this

liked by bffusername and others

ynupdates it’s confirmed that y/n y/l/n and her boyfriend have broken up after fours years of dating

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username WHAT

username omg nooo😭

username why is everyone breaking up!!!

username i don’t believe in love anymore

username her best friend liked the post so it’s really really true i’m gonna cry 😭

username yeah also the sun posted an article saying that a close source to the couple confirmed it

liked by f1.wags, ynupdates and others

deuxmoi actor jacob elordi and actress charlotte berzatto have been spotted recently on different occasions going out on dates

tagged jacobelordi, charlotteberzatto

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username excuse me what?

username and who’s this charlotte girl? 🤨

username she’s an european actress

username charles leclerc’s ex girlfriend

username wait wasn’t he dating y/n y/l/n like two weeks ago? i’m confused

username girl they broke up where you’ve been 😭

username yeah but they broke up like five minutes ago this seems…

username i did not expect that

username not them breaking up with their partners to get together 😭

liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername new things coming soon who’s happy🫧💐

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username OMG WE’RE GETTING A NEW ALBUM

username you actually just cured my depression with this post

username mother has that post breakup glow

username we love to see it

lilymhe gorgeous! 💕

yourusername lilyyy💘

username the flowers???

username who send them!!!

username jacob elordi count your days

username charles in the likes?? 😭

username they’re friends chill

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc happy times 😁

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username pookie came back! 🫶🏽

username now what is charles doing in a music studio 🤨🤨

username he’s so hot just ughhh

username is that… y/n’s dog… ???

username nah

username now that you mention it i think it could be but idk 😭

username he’s so boyfriend coded

username y/n in the likes 👀👀👀👀

username this just keeps getting messier and messier😭

liked by bffusername, francisca.cgomes and others

ynupdates y/n has been seen recently on multiple dates with formula 1 driver charles leclerc

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username ma’am???

username well this took a turn

username are they actually dating or…

username i meaaan look at that third and last pic and ask again

username the lore on this four people is just endless fr 😭

username they’re so real for swapping partners just like that

username literally blink and you miss it

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and others

yourusername my new single ‘don’t wanna break up again’ is out now for all of you💘 i also sing it for the first time ever on snl tonight if you’re interested in that🫶🏽

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username YES NEW MUSIC FROM MOTHER

username this song ATE

username the queen is back i used to pray for times like this😭

lilymhe such a gooood song💓 (liked by yourusername)

username so you’re telling me THAT man used to turn up the volume of the tv to not hear her cry??? yeah he’s DONE

username i literally heard that and had to pause for a second because what???

username also her calling their relationship of four years a “situationship” 😭😭

username she’s so unserious i love her

charles_leclerc on repeat 24/7 ❤️‍🩹

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

francisca.cgomes completely obsessed!💖 (liked by yourusername)

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and others

scuderiaferrari such a pleasure to have yourusername on the garage this weekend! 🫧

tagged yourusername, charles_leclerc

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username she looks stunning 🤩

username the pic with charles omg they’re so cute🥰🥰

username y/n in the paddock every race week please and thank you

yourusername tysm! forza ferrari❤️

username babes what other words in italian did charles taught you? i need to know

username dare i say new ferrari it couple?

username the fact that they haven’t confirmed anything 😭

username i mean you don’t really have to be a genius just a bit of common sense

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and others

charles_leclerc keep the podiums coming🏆🐎

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username il predestinato does it again 😮‍💨😮‍💨

username let’s go charles 💪🏽

username yesss charles show y/n what you can do‼️

carlossainz55 nice race!👊🏽

username very well deserved podium, such a nice race charles❤️❤️

username the fact that he was looking for y/n the whole time he was on the podium 😭

username I KNEW I WASNT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED

username no cause bro was looking everyone and once he clocked her the biggest smile on his face

yourusername congratulations! ❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc ❤️

liked by arthur_leclerc, joris_trouche and others

f1.wags if there was doubt before there definitely isn’t anymore! charles leclerc and singer y/n y/l/n were spotted kissing at the after party of this weekend’s grand prix and leaving together

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username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username don’t know if i wanna be charles or y/n to be honest

username joris and arthur liking this 😭😭

username i love that they’re together they just fit

username agree, a bit unexpected since their exes are also dating each other but still, they’re very cute💕

username okay i wasn’t a fan of y/n but i’m definitely gonna start listening to her now

username does this mean we’re getting happy songs from y/n about charles?

username omg girl I HOPE

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and others

yourusername eternal sunshine (the song) is out right now with the very special appearance of charles_leclerc in the music video (❤️) and eternal sunshine (the album) is out next friday! 💕

tagged charles_leclerc

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username i’m so so proud of y/n this song is perfect! can’t wait for the album 🤍

username this is the first time she’s featured a boyfriend in a music video and i’m so down for it🥰

username they’re look cute together!

username them on the bts of the video 💞💞💞

lilymhe you’re perfect and this song is everything🤍

yourusername love love love you lils 💘

username who would’ve thought mr charles leclerc can ACT!

username “hope you feel alright when you’re in her” i gasped

username no because that took me by surprise

username okay but we got “i got a good boy and he’s on my side” so it brought me back hope

charles_leclerc so proud of you, mon coeur❤️

yourusername i love you charlie❤️

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc so so so proud of you my love❤️ this is the most amazing project ever and the fact that i was able to participate in any way brings me so much joy. you’re a musical genius and an incredible human being🤍 stream eternal sunshine☀️

tagged yourusername

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username if you look closely you can see me in the background crying

username this is- they’re so- i’m- 😭

username no but they’re so perfect for each other i could cry

pierregasly who would’ve thought you could act 🤣

carlossainz55 new skill for the cv 😂

username “a musical genius and an incredible human being” charles leclerc why don’t you just rip my heart out yourself

username she looks so pretty in the mv and they’re so good together💞 i’m so happy for them

username no longer a child of divorce THESE are my real parents🫶🏽

yourusername i love you and i’m very very proud of you too❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc mon amour you’re everything 🤍

spirit is truly my favourite fic writer. literally crying at 1am. such elegant writing and the flow is so natural and almost like floating on a calm sea. highly recommend that you also read the footnotes because the amount of detail she pours into this is incredible.

( all credits to @argentinagp for this dreamy gifset! )

❁ — FRITILLARIES AFTER FALL ; C.LECLERC

summ. This story is yours, but it isn't about you. Not exactly.   pairing. charles leclerc / f!driver!reader w.count. 20.2k (bible-fic) a/n. Warnings for death, & racing crashes. Late drivers are mentioned & pivotal to the story. Anyway, sorry I've been dry; have a 20k angst fic as an apology & a merry new year!

YOUR DEATH COMES with the Autumn seeding of the Fritillaries in his grandmother’s back garden.

It had not been violent, nor abrupt, nor unjust— 

You had simply breathed out, and it felt like a release.

Then came the feather-touch of Charles’ hand emerging from the still darkness, somewhere between the flames and its shadows, fingers wrapping around your wrist— an old habit that stuck from his younger years— pressed so tightly that you could feel the ghostly beat of your pulse against the thin of your own skin. Charles spoke to you then, gently, in the same cadence he used when you whispered to each other as children, I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

No matter anything.

And you’d followed it obediently; led hand in hand through rain and across asphalt, and kept walking somewhere in-between the margins of what felt like a waking dream, until you settled on the evergreen grass of his childhood home, overgrown and tickling your ankles, beside the purple-dotted bellflowers his grandmother tends to so carefully.

You follow the carnations all the way to the flagstone path that’s twisting in ways that defy logic, take the time to admire the spider-lilies that are finally blooming for you, until you reach that familiar Coast off of South France, a thousand miles away from home.

2014. He’s smitten the first time he lays eyes on you.

Not exactly the first time he sees you, no. That would have been when he was nine years old and baby-cheeked, during a Summer break with Pierre and Anthoine, drifting somewhere off the coast of Southern France on the family boat. You were a familiar face to everyone but Charles, padding down the bow with seawater-footprints after a dip— and as much as Anthoine had insisted on introducing you to each other, the both of you had only managed a passing hello before feeling the violent urge to shy away upon sight despite sharing the enclosed space for the next hour. Call it puppy love.

But, anyways, no. He means the first time he sees you. Past the road-rage during your shared karting days and the plastered smiles you’d put on show for media’s sake. You’d landed into single-seaters— unheard of for girls of the sport at the time— in the Formula Renault 2.0 Euro. The pictures attached in the bylined announcement articles truly didn’t do you justice, he’d concluded, and his mouth hung open when you moved to sweep your hair from your face. 

You’d been scrutinising racing simulations and analysing lines of data even he couldn’t quite catch up with (you were always the smarter one, anyway), brows stitched tight in concentration, spectacles on your scrunched nose and one hand on your racesuit-tangled hips as you discuss with engineers. When you catch his eyes wandering, you’re quick to shoot him a friendly smile, and it jumpstarts the beat of his heart like the pop of a starting-pistol.

How was the race? His phone pings that evening. Had to retire the car :/ !!!! Sorry to hear that, Calamar.

But, Charles types. Just asked out the loveliest girl in the world. 

A pause. He almost laughs at the way the text bubble appears and disappears, pictures the narrowed gaze of the Frenchman through the screen.

Sounds horrific, Pierre replies. Glad I wasn’t around to witness that. She said yes, idiot. How miraculous. Who in the right mind would even do so?

Charles tells him. Pierre nearly bursts from the seams asking for details.

Later, in Pau, France, ahead of the following race, your date goes a little something like this:

Charles will prepare a bouquet of “Roses, because she loves a cliche every once in a while,” according to Pierre, and will compliment your hair and outfit you’ll throw on. Then he’ll bring you to a stellar restaurant that has stellar food, where he’ll charm you with his even-more-stellar jokes, and then end the day off by walking you back home to the hotel with his jacket over your shoulders, where he’ll call you beautiful for the final time, because he’s the blueprint of what every gentleman should be.

But, no. The date does not, in fact, go like that. 

Charles will forget the bouquet he’d bought at the dresser by his hotel bed, because he spends the last 5 minutes panicking over his hair in front of the mirror, and curses himself the entire way he comes to meet you down at the lobby. Then he’d stumble over his words, say, “You’re pretty today. Not that you aren’t, always. I mean, like— every other day you are pretty too. Or beautiful. Pretty beautiful. Beautiful beautiful. And, and a good driver too. Yeah.” 

He chases it with a joke that doesn’t quite land, but you laugh anyway, because his ears have burned bright red throughout the entirety of the ordeal, and it’s quite possibly the most endearing thing you’ve ever witnessed.

When you arrive at the restaurant he’s been raving to you about over text, you’re met with a closed sign and the realisation that it’s been under renovation for the last two months. Charles is thrown completely off-kilter with this revolutionary piece of information, and spends the next 10 minutes apologising for being a complete idiot. Dieu, I should have checked. I am so sorry. This is a disaster—!

Relax, Charles, you say. You’d never seen him this stressed, not even before a race. You circle a hand around his wrist, and he slows to a stop at the touch. It’s just me.

Exactly, he breathes. It’s you.

And— huh. Well. Charles supposes he’d done one thing right tonight, because you’re suddenly shying away with a smile on your face.

Burgers are what you settle for, in the end, despite how overdressed you are in a summer dress and him in his too-polished shoes. He makes a joke that does land this time, and the both of you laugh and chatter endlessly, after which he pays, of course, for everything, because his father had raised him right. When it’s time to leave, he brushes his knuckles against yours, fleeting, and makes sure to keep you on the inner side of the sidewalk while he offers his jacket.

Then he tells you you’re beautiful again, properly this time, where he goes out of his way to pluck a flower from a low-hanging branch to tuck into your hair, and you do that thing where you smile so sweetly it makes him haywire like a short circuit.

The day ends at the front of your oak hotel room door, and the both of you exchange awkward goodnights and see-you-tomorrow’s on shifty feet.

In another universe, restaurant or no-restaurant, you think it still would’ve turned out the same:

You smile, all crescent-eyes, and he all dimples, and then you lean to lay a hand on his chest, feel the thunder-beat drum of his heart beneath your palm, and press a kiss to his cheek.

How did it go? Anthoine texts you. Clumsy, but charming. You’re so boring, he spams, I need details! Did you kiss him?

You debate on answering, but he buzzes your phone until you do. Yes, you reply.

Lips?? No!! Just the cheek Oh. Booooo Idiot

The coast off Port Hercule in Monaco is always the right temperature at any time of day, but summer break that year feels even heartier.

The family comes around in annual tradition. Jules dismisses talking about his Silverstone race in favour of muscling both you and Charles into a headlock, and ruffles your hairs into a mess in congratulations. Charles had just won both rounds in Monza, where things are looking up for him as a junior championship contender— and “Yet here you are, the only girl in the grid, and you’re giving them a run for their money!”

You laugh, snatch the towel off Jules’ bare shoulder, and conspire with Lorenzo to shove him overboard into the sea. And then you're screaming too, bright and threaded with laughter as Charles follows suit, and takes you down with him in a crash of whitewater. He holds your wrist, delicate throughout it all.

Later, when Pascale calls everyone back to eat, she makes him fetch a pitcher of warm water from the cabin.

Hervé is coughing more now. No one talks about it. You’ve lost count the amount of times Lorenzo has slid a glass his way with that shadow in his eyes— the one where it looks as if he’s trying to pretend like everything is okay. 

There will be worry, regardless. 

Thin, like a veil over everyone’s heads, or perhaps a bubble— until Arthur divebombs starboard with a grand splash, all lanky limbs and pre-puberty shrieks, and the summer air clears with musical laughter. 

By the evening, when the sky dusks and the sun melts into the waves in blinding light, you’re curled into Charles’ arms. It doesn’t feel as awkward as you’d expected. His family had always been familiar with you, and you suppose being this close to Charles wouldn’t be a sight too difficult to adapt to. If anything, Pascale had practically adopted you into the family long before you’d even gotten together with her son.

“As-tu du sommeil?” he asks, when you yawn into his freckled shoulder. You smell of the ocean and the SPF sunscreen you’d insisted he lather on that afternoon. 

“Just a bit,” you nod, before chasing the sleepiness away with a stretch. You’re sunkissed and warm now, hair haloed in gold from the setting hour, and Charles has to take a moment, because he’s quite sure you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever set his eyes on. 

“Come on,” you pinch at his skin and he swats you with a yelp, “Let's help Jules get the drinks.”

Downstairs in the cabin, the Formula One driver muses into the fridge as he shifts contents around. “I always knew you two would be a thing.” 

You can feel Charles smiling against your bare shoulder as he noses a kiss into it. He’s never shy in showing his affection to you, much less around Jules. “They bet on us, did you know? Him and Lorenzo.”

“Bet?” you gape, shooting a narrowed look to Jules as he feigns a sheepish face behind the counter. “Did you atleast win?”

“Ofcourse,” he answers, confidently, pulling out a handful of Blue Coasts and sodas to pass to you to deliver back up the cockpit. “I can always count on Charles.”

Once he’s sure you’ve disappeared from sight and out of earshot, Jules pops two spare bottles open, sets them down, and slides one across the cold counter with a raised, calculated look. “You better be careful, you hear me?”

Charles is positively startled. 

“I— Dieu, no, we’re not— I haven’t—”

Jules snorts into his drink, breaking off into a laugh. “Not that, you…”  He could never really keep a straight face around him. “I’m saying be careful with a woman’s heart. Especially hers.”

“Bien sûr,” Charles answers, quickly, unhesitatingly. “I’m serious with her. I—”

Charles cuts himself off. Jules doesn’t press any further. Love, after all, can be a terrifying thing to admit.

2015. Anthoine hounds you; Pierre hounds Charles.

The troublemakers of the two resort to innocent jabs and the occasional tease, directed more to Charles’ way than yours, because he’d always been the pushover since you were children. (A part of you had feared the thought of dating amongst the friend group, but, the dynamic between all of you doesn't change, thankfully. It never really does, in the grand scheme of things— only ever suspends whenever it comes to racing against one another.)

“Just, don’t be stupid,” Pierre advises, in a rare moment of level-headedness for his character, albeit delivered ungracefully. He had come to visit the races, and Charles had gone off to sneak you all an oily lunch. “That’s Anthoine’s job.”

You laugh. Pierre fails to dodge the smack Anthoine sends his way.

“Shithead!” he snorts, but snags you and Pierre around his arms anyway with that same, dreamy look he gets in his eyes whenever he looks over to the horizon. “None of us are allowed to kill each other,” he gestures. “After all, we still have yet to race each other one day, in Formula One.”

And you beam at them, confident, saying yes, we will, together, because you’re seventeen, young and innocent and hopelessly in love, feeling like you had the entire world in the palm of your hands; naïve enough to believe that being the only girl to make it into single-seaters at this day and age would matter, that your burning passion is all it’ll take to keep this career going against any uphill battle.

It’s only after the final race of the season, that the both of you find out about the accident.

There’s no time to celebrate your win. You don’t really care, at that very moment. Both of you book a flight out of Spain instantly. Charles is quick to seek you out, lean to you in some form of desperate stability with a slip of his hand into yours. You stay like that, pressed close, holding each other all the way throughout the 12 hour flight toward Japan, and then several more throughout the dreadful hours on the stiff seats of the hospital waiting room.

He’s barely turning eighteen when he learns that the only thing greater than love is loss.

It’s the first time you see him breakdown.

Jules’ departure scalds Charles in a way he never knew possible, and for awhile, he becomes an unrecognisable shell of himself. The media won’t know this, ofcourse, because he’s been trained to keep his head high, fed his PR-answers, told to smile that same, dimpled smile, throughout the remainder of his F3 career. They tie every win and every point he gets to Jules, Jules, Jules, as much as it stings him. 

All the while you try to keep his head above the tide, even when it feels like you’re drowning too— try to tell him to breathe with you in between each coming wave when the bouts of panic rattle him to the core. He makes you promise not to tell anyone about it, and you keep it. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccups, the first time it’d happened. He had snatched his palm away from yours abruptly, curled up with his knees up to his chest as he tried to steady himself. “I want to, but I can’t— I can’t—”

How does he tell you the world doesn’t feel right? That it felt too big looking at the sky, and too small looking at the four walls around him; that he wants to throw up, but there’s a pit in his stomach; that he wants so desperately to hold your hand, and that he can’t, because right now he wants to peel the skin off his bones; that everything is heavy and his lungs aren’t functioning and he can’t fucking breathe, God, I think I’m dying, please, stay, don’t go, just stay—

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, again, that night, when he sneaks you into his hotel room. He’s uncharacteristically nervous, having shown you his whole heart at its most vulnerable just that afternoon. It’s tough to keep up appearances when you’re in the same Feeder Series with him now, too. The spotlight of being the only competing girl on the F3 grid is heavy. Charles doesn’t want to add on to that. “For everything.”

I love you, you want to say.  Having seen him at one of his worst, to be able to see this dismantled version of him he presents to the world— it’s trust. It’s love. But you settle on something else. You don’t want to bombard him with such a grandiose statement out of the blue, even though it feels like the right thing to say. Even if you know it’s true. 

“C’mere,” you say, soft, feel him shift closer to your touch. “S’nothing to be sorry about.”

“J’suis un désastre.”

“We all are,” you hum, let him press his face into the crook of your neck. Tucked next to him under the duvet, legs tangled around each other, you smell like clean sheets and the hotel shampoo. “I’ll always be here, no matter… No matter anything.”

“No matter anything?” he says, with a tiny smile, and you know it’s real; you can thumb at the dimples on his cheeks as he bumps his nose against yours. “Is that correct english?”

“Dunno. It is to me,” you laugh, because Charles is contagious like that. “I’ll always be right here no matter anything. I promise.”

“Really?” he asks, even when he knows what your answer is. You’d never been the type to go against your word, but tonight he just needs to hear it.

“Yes.”

“Even if I snore?”

“Ah, well, hmm…” you feign a second thought, but let out a yelp when he pokes your side with a ‘Ey! 

Okay! Yes! Yes, stop— you concede, trying to keep your laugh low as he tickles you. But then Charles shifts, impossibly closer now, and catches your lips into a kiss. 

He’s warm all over while you run your hand down his jawline, and when he breaks away, his pupils are blown wide under the moonlight. “I love you,” he says, breathless, terrified.

Oh. You blink, let out a huff of laughter, and say the same. I love you.

“No matter anything.”

“No matter anything,” Charles confirms, and seals you into another kiss.

The crest and the fall comes in 2017. 

No matter anything sticks. Even on bad race days, when the car just doesn’t cooperate, when someone takes a bad corner and you pay the price having been there at the wrong place at the wrong time; Even on date nights that never come around to be, sacrificed when Charles or you are whisked away to entertain other businesses in sponsorships and PR duties; Even on the death threats of your social media accounts that you managed to hide, months following your relationship being revealed, and he’d discovered it only after you’d accidentally left your screen unlocked on your vanity. 

No matter anything sticks, especially when his father passes— the sickness had been aggressive; hard to fight and even harder to beat— and Charles gets his maiden win just four days later, like a Greek tragedy come to life. No matter anything sticks when he confesses to you, broken and heaving in your arms, that he hates himself; That he’d lied to his father about his signed contract with Ferrari, because he deserved to be happy. I just wanted to see him smile, I needed to see it.

No matter anything sticks, even when you watch the way he’s slowly eroding into someone entirely different, throughout the years.

No matter anything sticks, until it doesn’t. 

Grief, you come to learn, is what sticks just the same. It sticks like the watermelon candy you share with Pierre, sticks like the soot in Charles’ grandmother’s fireplace, black and permanent and relentless. Grief hurts even more when you’re grieving for someone who isn’t dead, who’s alive and breathing, who’s making the choice to walk away from you.

Fights have always been few and farther in between, never really holding any gravity or significance unless it truly mattered. But, time changes people, and he didn’t even bother waiting for the plane ride to be over, didn’t even bother waiting for touchdown to the airport, didn’t even bother waiting to tell you at the hotel. 

“Maybe this just isn’t the right moment for us, amour,” he’d said. Dropped, practically. Then the seat belt light overhead pings off in perfect timing, and you stay for a second to soak in the way his words sound like radio-static in your ears, the way he can’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes. You excuse yourself to the washroom, stay there for ten, fifteen minutes, maybe— Enough that the stewardess knocks on the door to check on you— breathing but not really, feeling like your soul’s escaped its body and been left behind to drift thirty-thousand feet in the air.

The rest of the ride is completed in dead silence, both of you drafting the right words to say in your heads to let each other down slowly. How do I fix this, you’d panicked. How do I end this, he’d thought. 

You’re the first to break when his hotel room door shuts. He wipes your tears, because of course he does, because he can stand anyone’s tears but yours— even less knowing he’s the reason behind every one. It’s the racing, he reasons gently, the career.

And you get it, really, you do. You’d spent your childhood karting alongside Charles and Pierre and Anthoine for Christ’s sake, raised in engine smoke and grease since you could walk, so of course you understand the lifestyle, the grit. You get it. You get it. But you don’t. Because if you could handle it, then, well— why couldn’t he?

“It’s…” His face twists in frustration when the luggage he rolls catches at the carpet lip. “I can’t balance it all. Us, the driving, the— the expectations.”

The implication stings, but you know he hadn’t meant it to sound out that way. Charles is well aware of just how much you sacrifice being in this with him, too. You, who’d been spotlit until you melted, who’d been kept under the giant, unblinking eye that was Skysport, analysed down to the last breath and blink you take in social media; you who’d practically been studied under a public microscope— being waited on, preyed on, for a single misstep, misgiving, mistake, just so they could tear you to pieces for being Charles’ girl, for thinking you had a shot in a ruthless sport like this, for being a woman in a man’s world.

You toe the wheel off the lip his luggage is stuck on, and watch as he nudges the bags to the corner of the room with a little force more than necessary. 

“I have expectations,” you say; not angry, not yet, because you still wanted to salvage this relationship, still wanted to lick your wounds together with him in the aftermath, still wanted to crawl into his arms by the end of the day and pretend this never happened.  “We can work this out, Charles.”

“I’m—” he blinks his eyes hard, brushes past you and into the kitchenette, as if it pained him to even gather the effort to look at you. “We’ve tried. I can’t— I can’t give you what you deserve. You, you deserve someone bett—”

“Stop,” you flinch, rear your head back in disbelief. “You sound exactly like everyone else; telling me what to do, what I need. Like you know how I feel. You don’t get to decide what I want, Charles.”

“Putain—” He leans into the marble countertop of the kitchen island, arms spread, lets out an exasperated sound because he knows where you’re going with this; because this was descending into an argument faster than he’d expected. “—That’s. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

You’re giving up, you don’t say, because it’d hurt you just as much to admit it out loud for him. “Isn’t it?” 

“I don’t want to fight,” he overrides, evenly, cut to the quick when he hears your calm begin to give way. Above all else, he’s always been a pacifist, and you’d never thought you’d come to hate it until now.

“Not even for us?” Your voice cracks but you shake it off in irritation. “So what? That’s it? You’re not some hero, sacrificing your heart for what’s best for me, Charles. You’re just being a coward.”

His shoulders drop. “You’re being unfair.” 

The statement nearly gives you whiplash. Charles had just broken up with you on a red-eye flight, waited until both of you arrived in the hotel to explain himself— and when he did, gave a shitty excuse— and now, now you’re the unfair one? 

“I’m doing what I think is right. I, what—? Wait,” he stumbles, alarmed, when he sees you toss the roomcard to the counter in front of him. “Amour, arrête!” he calls, rounds the island to grab you by the sleeve just as you pick up your phone to make headway to the door. “Tu fais quoi?”

You’d tried to sound resolute, but the tears flooding your vision aren’t helping, and his now-unfamiliar touch is making you waver. “To book another room. I can’t be here,” then, more bitterly, “You don’t want me here.”

Charles feels the fight drain out of him. “That’s not true.”

And in another universe, this would be where it ends well, where the love rekindles again. This is the part where the fork in the road would be, and he’d take the path that would save the both of you. 

This would be the part where Charles apologises, says, I’m sorry. We can talk about this tomorrow. Let’s unpack, and eat, and rest. Just stay, please; because I love you, and I don’t think I can go to sleep knowing you’re hurting, and you would cry from the relief because at least, at least, you know now that it isn't the end just yet, that he’s still willing to fight for this, to fight for you, no matter anything.

Pierre receives a text late that night from Anthoine, frantic, and he only truly realises this one might be the worst, might truly be it, when he reads; Piccolo, she called me crying tonight. Did you know about this? 

What did you do, Calamar? Charles. Reply me Hello?? She’s my friend too. I’ll beat the answer out of you if i have to.

I broke up with her.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

So it goes.

2018. Charles is green-lit and signed into Sauber that season for F1, and you’re left behind. It’s no surprise to you— your management had told you to brace for it; that no one would want to sign the only girl, as interesting as the headlines would read, because who would want to bet on a shot in the dark? Your results are impressive, yes, that you’d been able to hold your ground against the better half of the grid is a feat in its own— but the world of motorsport, and Formula One specifically, is first and foremost money-hungry, all-political, and then some. It’s too late for you to realise the cards have never played in your favour, and never will, as a woman. 

Summer break grows dull. You’re not here for as long as you used to visit because of scheduling differences, and now neither is Jules, and neither is his Dad. When Charles reaches for the Blue Coasts in the fridge, he freezes. “What’s wrong?” Lorenzo says, across the same counter Jules had stood all those years ago. 

“Nothing,” Charles answers, and doesn’t even bother hiding the fact that it’s a lie. He pops a bottle and slides it to his brother, fights back the déjà-vu suffocating him. “I just remembered something Jules said to me here, last time.” He’d been seventeen then, now he’s twenty-one. Four years fly faster than expected.

2019 rolls by. Both of you have long since drifted, separate in your own careers, though you’re not sure he keeps an eye on yours as much as you do his in Ferrari. The occasional bump and race overlaps happen every now and then, but conversations are reduced to minimal topics that mean little to nothing to the both of you. You talk more with his mother and brothers, granted, horrifically awkwardly; until he’d brought his new girl, had no choice but to nervously introduce you two when he couldn’t get out of it.

(A model; young and ambitious and wearing sponsored brand collections to every paddock visit she does. You almost laugh at the way you see so much of yourself in her innocence, in the way she looks at Charles like he was a God amongst men.)

This one is a distraction, you can tell. They’ll break one another like how you both did 2 years ago. Or maybe you’re just bitter, jealous, angry. You’ll get over it. You’ll get over him. You’ll—

It’s Anthoine that brings you back together. 

In another time, you’d see sense in the morbid poetry of it all.

You’d caved, sobbed; the weight of grief and of loss and of death and everything else, bearing down on you. “It was supposed to be all of us. You, and me, and Pierre, and— We, we were all supposed to be here, Charles. We were all supposed to race.”

I’m sorry, is all he can manage, inadequate as it is, at the face of your anguish. You’re on the cold floor of a hotel somewhere in France, hands twisted into his sleeves, cradled in his arms the past hour against the foot of the bed. 

The Leclerc’s, the Hubert’s, the Gasly’s— all of you had returned from the funeral. Charles has to remind himself, sometimes, that you’re not as familiar with saying goodbye as he is. 

So he holds you instead, like he always did when the both of you were younger; familiar and delicate and full of love, like you were a porcelain doll cracking at the seams, because you were. For a moment, it feels like it’s 2015 again, leaning into each other's pain the summer Jules had gone.

“I don’t want to race, anymore,” you’d whispered into his shirt, utterly defeated. It’s soaked in your tears, and still, still, you can practically taste the scent of Charles through the wrinkled fabric. He’s had a growth spurt last you saw him; he’s grown into the fat of his cheeks, more angular in the jaw and mature in the eyes— but boyish all the same, in the wide-eyed way he looks at you like you’re his whole world. 

(You’re not sure if he’s even aware he does that. The better half of you would have crawled out this embrace, save yourself whatever dignity remained after falling apart in the arms of your ex— but you think you’ve buried your better half along with Anthoine that dark morning.)

“You have to,” Charles says. He doesn’t make the mistake of saying, Anthoine would’ve wanted this, or Anthoine would hate to see you this way, because it would’ve been unfair. You and Pierre had always been far closer to him than he ever was. “You need to prove everyone wrong,” he says instead.

The crying tires you out, eventually, but you’re quick to catch him by the wrist when he slips out the bed to leave. The touch alone sends a wave of homesickness through the both of you. You didn’t want this to end, not yet. 

“Stay,” you plead, and omit the rest of the sentence. I’m scared. I need you. I miss you. It isn’t a good idea, you know this, because he has a girlfriend now for Christ’s sake, and Charles had hurt you once before, so you’re sure this would be taking a path down the same road, but— 

—No matter anything exists between you two. Maybe, maybe, you can hold onto that, if nothing. 

“I don’t want to sleep,” comes your confession, when the clock hits midnight and the stars and satellites dot the sky. I can’t, would’ve been the better way to say it, in hindsight. 

That you couldn’t even close your eyes sometimes, because you’ve yet to erase the sight of the aftermath in front of you that turn in Spa, that you couldn’t shake the post-race anxiety that still nestled deep in your marrows like an ache long after you’d exited your cockpit in the garage that day. You figure he understands. 

So he stays. This is the crest. The fall will come after. He knows it. He deserves it.

He brews coffee just how you like it, just like how you both used to share in the early mornings back in his apartment, and slides under the covers by you. He tells you about his Winter breaks because he knows you won’t want to hear about anything that has four wheels and an engine, and drapes an arm around your shoulder, your head on his chest, where you can feel him play with the strands of your hair just like once-upon-a-time ago. He talks, and you listen, ears pressed against his ribs, distract yourself from the horrors of the world by basking in the rumbling nostalgia of his voice, and the hum-drum of his heart, instead. 

You want— need— to carve this into memory, as badly as it hurts, knowing he’ll disappear come morning.

Hm? you murmur, eyelids heavy.

Rien, he dismisses, and you’re too drowsy to register that it’s his lips you feel ghosting across your forehead. Bonne nuit.

The coffee on the table is stone-cold by the time you wake, alone. 

He’s still with his girl come New Years. It’s a late celebration; January 3rd, 2020. 

You wonder if she knows. If she knows Charles had slipped into bed and kept you company until you slept, that he’d kissed you goodnight on your forehead; that you’re still helplessly, hopelessly—

You’re not drunk enough, but Arthur is; you’ve been trying to pep-talk him after you’d caught him swooning over a pretty blonde named Carla across the room, with a cute accent to match. “Fais-le, ‘Turtur. She’s been staring at you too.”

“Ah bon?” he gapes, and repeats himself in English, for some reason, “Really?”

You shoot Charles a distressed look. 

“Ouias! Oui,” he covers for you, instantly, and the both of you cringe as you watch Arthur shake his tipsiness off and dust his corny button-up shirt designed with tacky fireworks. 

“He’s going to embarrass himself,” Pierre groans into his drink, but you notice there’s a glint in his eyes— the same one he always got whenever he schemed with Anthoine. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen it again.

“I don’t see you stopping him,” you say, and the three of you descend into laughter at the sight of Arthur fixing his hair at every reflection he passes on the way to the other end of the club.

“Ça suffit pour l’instant,” Pierre chastises, once you’d reached your fourth glass of… whatever that was. 

“I’m not drunk,” you insist, trying not to slur your words. Charles had long disappeared from the space beside you to dance with his girlfriend, somewhere. Summer is gone, but you think you can still see it through the flash of strobe lights; your eyes instinctively searching for the tousled hair, the half-lidded eyes, the rosy cheeks and stupid, stupid dimples. That’s him, actually, you realise. And— oh. 

“For your sake, don’t look,” Pierre says, and nudges you enough that you blink, and you lose track of the ugly scene playing in front of you. 

“I…” I miss him, you almost say. He used to kiss me like that. 

Pierre watches you carefully. 

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you blurt.

“What.”

You do hurl, a minute later.

Pierre complains the entire time, and of course he does, but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he’d tucked your hair behind your ears and held it up into a ponytail despite it all, and ordered a glass of water for you when you’d finally washed up. Ever the gentleman.

Oh my god, you’d laughed, at the curbside of a random street for fresh air, I’m unlovable, before descending into tears at an alarming rate, burrowing your face into the white linen of Pierre’s shoulder. You want to apologise for ruining his night, for putting him through hell and back, for fucking everything, but words are impossible, clumping like a ball in your throat. 

It must be so difficult, you realise: to be the in-betweener, the neutral party. To have to stand at the crossroads, and be stretched thin between the two people who matter the most to you. 

“You’re not,” says Pierre, patient yet rough in his own brotherly-way, and pulls you closer to his side, pats you on the head. “I love you.”

You sniffle out a laugh. “You know what I mean, Piccolo.”

He beams at that. That nickname had been the bane of his existence for the brief moment of time you’d been taller than him as children. “I do,” he agrees, after a moment of pained silence. Then, after careful consideration, adds, “Il t'aime encore, tu sais.”

That sobers you in an instant, and you inhale sharply, sit back up proper. “Pierre,” you sigh. “Arrête.”

 “J’suis sérieuse,” he shoots, and says your name for good measure.

“He loves her, and he loves Ferrari,” you argue, in hopes of steering the conversation elsewhere. “Talks about them with all the love in the world.”

But Pierre scoffs, much to your chagrin, and does that thing where he raises his eyebrows with a smile, shakes his head in disbelief. “Then you’ve never heard him talk about you.”

Congratulations, Pierre had texted you, later that year in the Autosport Awards. You’d won the W-Series driver’s championship with three races to spare, and he’s never felt prouder of you, watching you appear in the screens. You deserve it. 

Say it to my face, comes your reply, because even after all this time you could never quite change the way Pierre turns you back to your younger self— playful, soft, hopeful. He just laughs, peeks at the buzz of notifications from his phone when you continue. We’re having a party. Bring Charles. I miss him.

Ouch, he writes, and fails to send the I missed you too in his textbox. 

Their plane doesn’t touch down in time for the party, but you manage to squeeze in a Christmas dinner in Mallorca before the end of the year. I want you to meet someone, you’d said, and Charles had felt his heart drop in his chest.

This is Emilio, you introduce. You try to brush off the arrested look on Charles’ face, try to convince you'd just been imagining the pass of… something in his eyes, out of self-indulgence. Charles has moved on, surely. Why shouldn’t you? Why couldn’t you?

Emilio. Right. Him. Charles had heard of your supposed attachment through the grapevine mid-season, but they’d never held any ground (or maybe he just refused to believe it). That Singapore weekend had been spent trying to convince Pierre not to message you about the rumour; claiming out of privacy’s sake, but Pierre knew Charles long enough to understand it’s mostly because he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know the truth.

He’s a Doctor, you smile, proud, lay a hand on his bicep and look up at him like he’s your universe, like the Mallorcan view around you isn’t literally right there to gaze at. Charles might have to take a seat before he collapses, at this rate. Not really, Emilio says, humble— because of course he’s fucking humble too, Christ; what else does this guy have that holds a candle against Charles? I’m in my second year of Residency.

He’s everything good, Charles concludes, by the time the night had winded down and dinner was beginning to come to a closing end. Emilio had held the door open for you, for everyone; he’d pulled the chair for you and translated the Spanish dishes for everyone patiently, and took his time to learn about him, and Pierre, and Lorenzo, Arthur, Carla. He’s affable, naturally charming, effortlessly funny, and managed not to squirm under Pierre’s doberman-like size up: the perfect type to bring home to your parents and get an immediate stamp-of-approval on. He’s everything Charles isn’t, hasn’t been, hadn’t been, could’ve been—

CRACK.

You yelp. 

Lorenzo curses.

Charles blinks, then blinks again, at the shard stuck in his palm. He’d crushed the thin wine glass in his hands.

He can’t tell if this is a crest or a fall.

“Force of habit,” he dismisses later, after he subsequently becomes a patient of Emilio— the Doctor— your boyfriend’s— care for the next five minutes. It didn’t make sense at all, but an answer was better than awkward silence. Carla hands him a spare plaster from her purse. Charles thanks her, excuses himself from the restaurant for a breath of fresh air.

He doesn’t notice you’d trailed to follow him until he feels you brush by his shoulder. You’ve got Emilio’s blazer over your shoulders. He wonders if it would’ve been his jacket instead, in another life. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” He raises his palm to show the bright red Lightning McQueen plaster. “Never better. Kachow.”

You scoff, amused, and tuck your hair behind your ear. Mallorca in December is high-strung in Christmas lights and bathed in Winter markets across cobblestone streets; if you listen closely past the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, you’d be able to pick out the local buskers singing festivities and dancing with one another. “The view is beautiful.” 

“It is,” he replies, instinctively.

He’s not looking at the scenery. You know, because you can feel the burn of his gaze through your peripherals, like a brand on the side of your face.

He’s watching you, waiting for a sign in your expression, waiting for the shift in your footing and the bloom of your cheeks. It would mean something. It would mean it isn’t too late for him yet, as fucked up as it would be for him to think. It’s wrong. Charles knows this. But he couldn’t leave Spain yet without letting you know, someway, somehow, that you’d always have a key to the backdoor into his heart. 

“You kept bringing up the past,” you ignore. She likes the Fritillaries in my Grandmother’s backgarden when they’re in season, he’d told Emilio. When you made a passing comment on your dinner being one of the best you’ve ever had, Charles had went; The best dinner I ever had was a burger in Pau, France.

He was being childish. Is. He didn’t have the right. He’d been the one to break your heart, been the one to give up, to act like nothing ever happened; been the one to make sure the space between you two felt like a million miles apart, and now— and now? Now he wants to do this? 

“Is that so bad?”

“In front of ‘Milio, yeah.” It’s delusional, but he clings onto the fact you’d said Emilio, instead of my boyfriend. “You did it on purpose.”

“I didn’t.” ( He did. He’s self-destructive like that. It’s a trait he could never shake— Sebastian had told him. )

“Oh my god,” you sigh. “Could you for once just be true to yourself?”

“True to—?” His voice pitches there, but he’s quick to reel himself back in. 

“There. That,” you gesture. “Just say it how you want to.” How you used to.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” he says, strained. He’s well above that. His father had taught him better, and he’s made that mistake before. “Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“Don’t, don’t act like you don’t know, Charles. The glass breaking—” you raise your finger before he can cut you off, “—Chalk it off as an accident, why don’t we. But my favourite flowers? Our first date? Wh— I don’t understand why you would even do that!”

He makes a dry sound from the back of his throat, and it irks you. It irks you because he’s looking at you, glacially calm yet looking as if he wants to spill every word that’s latching onto his tongue, like he wants to scream at you, like he wants to kiss you, all at once.

“I think you do,” he says, finally. 

That stops you short. 

No. No, no, no, no. He couldn’t possibly be doing this to you; here and now. After all this time. Not when you’re finally putting your pieces back together and trying to live a life, not when you’re finally trying your best to move on.

“Oh, you are so fucking selfish,” you snarl, and Charles visibly flinches at that. You’d always told him to be more selfish. To take the wins he gets in each race and carry it with pride, and to not do the same with his losses. Now, he’s not so sure. “I don’t know, Charles. I don’t. No.”

“Yes.” He reaches for your wrist. It feels like Summer of 2014, when you’d leapt off the boat, feels like Fall of 2015, when you’d held him in your arms in Monaco, feels like Winter of 2016, when he’d been pressed into you that early Christmas, feels like Spring of 2017, wh—

“No, I want you to tell me,” you snap, snatch your arm away. 

It’s easier this way. It’s easier to hear it openly from him, so you can still come out on top of this argument in your own rotten metaphorical way; so you can spit out the script you’ve drafted in your head time and time again, so you can still manage, at the end of the day, to blame him, and move on, move on, move on. 

“Go on, Charles. Tell me.”

“You’re lost,” he says, instead, and it’s in part the truth. You hate that he’s right. You hate that you still notice how his cheeks dig in when he speaks. You hate that at the end of the day you’re always going to be caught in his orbit one way or another. You hate him. But you don’t. But you do.

“I’m… lost,” you parrot, throwing your hands up. “What the fuck is that? Where am I supposed to be then, Charles, huh?” And then you blurt it out for him before you can even stop yourself. “Back in your arms? Back with you?”

He’s silent. Even after all this time, you could always read him like an open book. ( It’s a yes. A yes in the gentle breeze of the night, a yes in the buzz of the amber lantern lights, a yes in the way he’s watching you with that sad look in his eyes. Concession. Admission. Confession: No matter anything. )

“No. No, you don’t get to do that. You of all people—” you choke up, grit your teeth when your face twists, and look away. “You are being so… you are so mean, Charles. So mean.”

And then you’re running your hand through your hair and down your face, chasing the flush away, the burn at the back of your eyelids. Emilio, Pierre, Clara, and the brothers have appeared around the corner. One of them must have paid the bill. 

“Tout vas bien?” Lorenzo says, by way of polite intrusion. Pierre’s got his hands in his pockets, and he’s staring Charles down colder than ever. He looks two inches away from snapping his neck. Pierre knows. Ofcourse, he knows. 

“Nothing,” you sniff innocently, leaning into Emilio when he sidles by you with a comforting hand. You didn’t have the heart to look at anyone, afraid you might just burst into tears. You feel like a porcelain doll again, fracturing, losing your pieces with every pained breath you take trying to swallow down the disgusting churn of resentment in your throat. “A fan just wanted a picture with Charles.”

“I wouldn’t want one with you,” Arthur jokes, and you’re laughing with them, carrying the joke forward. Had Charles not known you, he would’ve fallen for it. You’re an excellent liar. 

I’m sorry, he messages you that night, even though he wasn’t. Not, at least, for telling the truth. 

A text bubble appears, then disappears. Charles waits, and waits. Holds out on hope. 

You never do reply him.

Are you coming for Léon’s wedding? you receive, mid-season in 2021. You’re just about halfway up to zipping your racesuit when you see the screen flash. It’s Pierre. Don’t think so, you reply. I’ve got a contract thing coming up then.

In an airport a thousand miles from you, Pierre pauses mid-sip on his coffee, narrows his eyes at your text. What contract thing? 

Secret, comes your reply, followed by a string of emojis. Gotta race. Ciao.

Congrats on pole. 

Don’t curse me, Piccolo.

You don’t see his middle finger emoji until after the race, where you do, in fact, pole, despite a questionable start under even more questionable weather conditions. It bumps you up to lead comfortably in the Women’s Championship. 

Charles won’t be there, is the final text he sends, last seen one hour ago. You roll your eyes at that, wipe your champagne-soaked hands on your towel. Your world doesn’t revolve around Charles. Not anymore, you hope.

Doesn’t change my answer. 

I need distance. 

Pierre leaves you on read with a knowing laugh. 

(You do end up going, in the end. That had been a fleeting weekend in Malta, alone mostly with Pierre, where you had time to reflect on the whirlwind that was your life after witnessing the wedding between two of your good friends.)

Distance doesn’t work. 

Distance doesn’t work because you’re two halves of a whole Universe as much as you don’t want to admit it, because your world is small and Monaco is smaller, because there’s always been that divine, gravitational pull you have towards each other; celestials caught in each other's orbit.

You know it never will, not when it comes to Charles, who always made you weak, always made it so difficult to stay mad at him, so easy to forgive. You’re sure you’d forgiven him the day you turned your back on him in Mallorca— just didn’t want to admit it to his face, give him the satisfaction. In retrospect, you’d been just as childish as him.

“Pink looks silly on you,” you comment, when you see each other again in a mutual friend's baby shower. That’s a flat-out lie. The champagne has you loose-lipped. Charles looks good in anything; and he always seemed the doting girl-dad type.

“Blue isn’t your colour,” he replies. It’s a blatant lie. Any colour is your colour, in his opinion. You could dress in a rainbow potato sack and he’d still find you the most beautiful person in the world. “I thought you’d have bet on a girl, too.”

“I grew up and competed with boys my entire life,” you shrug. His model-girlfriend isn’t around, and your doctor-boyfriend isn’t around. Neither of you dare to comment on it. You just skirt around each other and talk about the races, and of Arthur in F3, now. 

You drift between circles of friends, talk until the clouds clear and the balloon bursts and the couple announce that It’s a Boy! And the blue-and-white petals scatter in the yard, and you’re laughing, and he’s laughing, because; vous gagnez, cherie. 

You hand him a too-sweet cupcake in navy sprinkles, from one of the sidetables in the kitchen. “For the loser.”

It’s a peace treaty. A proverbial apology. No matter anything?

Charles picks it from your hand, and takes a bite.

I’m sorry, too. No matter anything.

Come 2022. Carla asks, half-whispering, “Are you two okay, now?” as she clasps her sunscreen shut. She peers at you carefully through the mirror. 

“Uh.” You’re mid-dip down into the mess of bikinis and sundresses that was your luggage bag, digging through for an appropriate outfit in the Maldives weather. You don’t know why she’s whispering, it’s just the two of you in the hotel room right now. Right. Okay. What is okay, to you and Charles? 

Okay had been elbow nudges and shy hand-holding once, had been open-mouthed kisses and thumbs over knuckles and around wrists, had been distance and tolerating each other’s presence, pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. Okay had been balancing the tight-rope of something and nothing, of too-familiar-strangers and ex-lovers who bet their everything on no matter anything.

If okay is pursed lips and friendly smiles, there-and-away glances that aren’t decipherable to either of you anymore, and keeping each other within a comfortable distance, then, yeah. Okay. The both of you are okay, you guess. Enough time has passed.

“I, uh, never actually asked him.” 

Carla makes a face when you pull two bikinis up, points to the non-printed one draped over your left forearm. “You should, though.”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” you say, picking the conversation back up once you’ve settled comfortably in the beach hammocks. Carla wriggles her feet and claps her hand to dust the sand away, hopping in beside you with a squeal when the cords nearly twist and throw the both of you backwards. 

“Just, ask,” she says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

Maldives has been kind to all of you, the weather bright and the clear water gently lapping on white-shores. The atmosphere is good. Perfect, even. It’s Summer break and again it feels like you’re under the sun in Southern Italy. The brothers, and Pierre, are here and happy. Race season has paused, and for now you can set the weight of the world down at your feet if only for a little while.

“Easier said,” you answer, with a tone that signalled you aren’t really in the mood to debate it. Carla nods, and lets go of it with a final:

“Okay is easy, but not love. Love should never just be easy.”

You mull on it. Churn it and digest it and try to pick it apart in your brain. Loving Charles had been so easy. As easy as breathing. Loving Charles feels like instinct, second-nature. You decide you don’t understand her, not completely, atleast. 

“Amour.”

Your head whips up at his voice. Easy. Instinct. Second-nature. 

It’s Arthur. He always sounded horrifyingly similar to Charles. Pierre, trailing behind, catches your mistake, and pins you with a knowing look.

Fuck off, you shoot back a glare. When Charles arrives not long after to pass you a freshly broken coconut, umbrella and swirly straw in, you try not to stare at the sheen of sweat on his chest and arms. It’s near sinful.

“Did you bring it?” Charles says, digging greedily into your tote.

“Yeah. Go put some on, you’re turning into a fuckin’ Ferrari,” you chide, even though you’re already setting your coconut down, and squeezing the sunblock on your hands to do it for him. (Summer as teenagers. Old habits. The fact that moving around Charles is as unconscious as a heartbeat.) 

“Turn around. I’ll draw a dick on your back.”

“Bitch,” he swats with a laugh.

You’re smiling as you lather your hands and swallow down the instinctive, Love you too.

The rest of the day is spent frantically running in the sand as everyone argues over volleyball rules and whether or not “it went over the line!”; followed closely by a chance golden hour photoshoot with everyone, where you try not to let the compliment get to your cheeks when Charles tells you, you look beautiful, as the sun melts into the horizon.

“I think I just drank seasalt,” you hiccup, wading back inland, beer in hand. The ripples light alive in bioluminescent plankton as Charles meets you halfway, one hand outstretched, as always— ever-ready to steady you when you need it. He’s a gentleman, like that.

“Seawater,” corrects Charles. He can tell you’re already beginning to slip deeper into the planes of tipsiness when he hands you a roasted marshmallow, and you miss grabbing the skewer by an inch. You make a face at him when he laughs before settling down onto the shoreline, wiggling your toes into the wet sand.

Then the silence comes, and it’s comfortable. It’s just stars, now; and the cold, and the water, and Charles, beside you with his elbows propped on his knees, fingers rolling on the lip of the empty beer bottle he’d offered to hold for you. Ten-year-old you would have found it hard to believe that it hadn’t always been like this— that there’d been a point in time when you’d leave from every room he enters, that you couldn’t bear to even think of him.

“I think I knew you,” you say, and you’re half-surprised you’d blurted something out.

Charles looks at you funny. “I sure hope you did.”

“No, no,” you amend, looking up from your feet in the tide. “I mean. Knew you. Before all this. It makes sense.” 

He’s got a boyish smile on his face, sweet and dimple-y as he reaches to adjust the beach towel he’d swept over your shoulders earlier. “I think you’re drunk.”

“No, no, hear me out. I think..” you look at him, straight in the eyes since he’s first sat beside you, and Charles finds himself pinned under your loopy gaze. “I think we're soulmates, you know?”

You say it with the kind of conviction that could convince even the Devil himself.  “… Yeah?” he asks, feels a creep of warmth somewhere in his ribcage.

A nod, slow. “Yeah.” His eyes hang onto the movement; the curl in your lips, the flutter in your eyelashes, the wet hair sticking to your forehead. You’re sunkissed. You’re beautiful. He wants to tell you, again. He can’t, he thinks.

“What were we, then, before this?” Did I love you the same? Did I hurt you the same? Did you let me back into your life as you are now? Did we get our happy ending? 

“Maybe we were… strangers. We meet by pure accident, like those cheesy Hallmark movies where the girl accidentally spills coffee on the guy, and then he looks at her as if she hung the moon and the stars.” 

You don’t notice it, because you’re busy wading the water with your fingers, picking at a seashell— but he’s looking at you right now, that way. The bioluminescence of the water glows and glitter neon in the reflection of your eyes, and the distant moon and firelight is painting you like a saint off the tinted glass windows of a church— some sacred thing he probably doesn’t deserve, but selfishly wants to keep for himself forever.

“And then?” He can barely conceal the desperation in his voice. He hides it with a small laugh. “Then what happens?”

“Then we fall in love,” you tell him, softly. You think back on Malta. The vows, the shift in the air, the way colours seemed to saturate around the presence of intimacy. “Get married. And grow old together. Then we find each other again, in the next life.”

A next life. You’re thinking of a next life, with him. “You’d like that?”

“Ouias. I’d like that.” You remember telling Pierre something similar to this— that you’d like to settle down, somewhere sunny and slow and beautiful; perhaps Tuscany. He had teased you for it.

“And… what about this life?” 

You glance at the sand between his fingers. The droplets of water on his skin. If you didn’t know Charles so well, you wouldn't have recognised him with how small he’d sounded. But you do, so you did.

“What about it?” 

The tide laps. It bathes you in a moonglade of blue. The implication hangs in the air, and it’s frighteningly tentative. Charles lets the words tumble before the regret can haunt him. “Do you see it? See us?”

Concession. Admission. Confession. It feels like Mallorca, all over again. 

“I…” I don’t know.

You look away. Down. Up. Down. Then back up to his eyes. He looks torn, but patient.

“It’s okay,” he says— smiles. It’s sincere. It’s sincere because it’s digging into his cheeks, and you can finally translate the looks in his eyes, again, after all this time apart: I will wait for you. No matter anything.

“Just— as long as we’re okay.” The hope in his tone phrases it like a question.

“Of course,” comes your answer, easily. It’s okay. We’re okay. Nothing has changed between us, even when I thought it did. You are still Charles. My Charles. In every way; In the only way I’ve ever known you. No matter anything. 

Your fingers brush against his. You can feel his bracelets pressing against your wrist. “Always.”

Sobriety comes with the five slices of watermelon that Pierre had supposedly ‘fought tooth-and-nail’ to keep from Arthur and save for you. 

“Y’shaid y’had to tchell me shomething,” you remind him, clawclip in your mouth as you gather your hair up. It’s two in the morning. The overwater-bungalows are a distance from the shoreline, but the boardwalk is a welcome stroll to clear your mind. You’re still at the beach though, busy shaking the sand off your sandals while Pierre puts the fire out. It’s getting dark. Everyone has already gone off to disappear into their rooms.

“Nah,” Pierre dismisses, after a lengthy, contemplative pause. “It’s nothing. Just— Hey, is that Arthurs?”

You clip your hair, hook your fingers to the straps of your sandals, reach with a free hand to the white square that’s bending the hammock out of shape. Airpods. You flick it open. Only one earpiece is in. 

You snort.

At half past 2 in the morning, someone knocks on Charles’ door.

“Idiot,” you say, when he opens the door to find you standing outside, bleary-eyed, holding his airpods up. “You left this at the hammock.” 

“Oh shit.” He takes it from you with a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

In hindsight, you should have left, afterwards. Or maybe just handed it to him the next day. But— but. He’s leaning against the doorframe, topless, one hand busy rubbing the sleep out his eyes. You hang onto the movement, flick your eyes from the way his wrist twists, arm flexing. He looks good. Too good, for someone who just seemed to have rolled out of bed. You’re growing alarmingly warm under the thin material of your cover-up, suddenly violently aware of how you must look standing at his doorway with half your skin showing in a bikini of all things.

“Can we talk?” 

“Can we talk?”

He laughs. It’s a soft, boyish rumble deep in his chest. “Yeah, uh— come in.”

“Désolée,” he apologises once you step in, “C'est en désordre.”

But you don’t mind. If anything, it’s familiar. Nostalgia finds you between the clothes strewn by the edges of his bed and the luggage burst open at the corner of the room, looking like it’d been kicked to the side at the last minute. He’s never been able to keep his rooms clean for any longer than a few days— never in his apartments and never in his hotels. You remember. You always remember.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, hurrying to clear the floor.

“Nothing,” you reply, try not to focus on the way the cord of muscles on his back pull when he bends to reach for a stray t-shirt in the way. “You just. Haven’t changed alot.” 

He dimples at you over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

You kick up a towel at your feet and hand it to him. He tosses it into a messy pile in the corner. “Yeah.” You’re still Charles. My Charles. I’m still helplessly, hopelessly, in love with you. You’re still the same because we move the same, breathe the same, look at each other the same. 

“I think I’ve changed,” Charles says, shuffling further into the room. He places his airpods down a side table, by a bowl of complimentary fruit from the hotel. “I’m a better man than I was.”

“Less of an idiot?” you tease, if only to deflect the unspoken implication. ( We’re all idiots when we’re teenagers and in love, anyway. ) Charles turns to you to find his other missing earpiece in your forefingers, dug out from God knows where. “Highly unlikely.”

You toss it. Charles catches it easily without breaking eye-contact, just smiles. The motion shouldn’t have been that attractive to you. 

“I can try,” He clips it back into the case, sets it down. “If you will let me.”

The sliding doors facing the ocean waves are curtainless, and left ajar. When a breeze blows through, you can smell the salt winds, the smell of Charles; feel the way your skin rises with goosebumps— but only because he’s gazing at you with that dopey look he has; doe-eyed and green and twinkling with hope. 

“Let you do what, exactly?” Your mouth is dry. You take the pause in his answer as an opportunity to walk into the kitchenette, ground yourself by paying attention to the grooves of the wood beneath your bare feet as you pour yourself a glass of water, sip slowly to occupy yourself.

The kitchen island works as some border between you both. Charles closes the distance, slow, like he’s testing the waters; until he reaches the corner where you stand, and sidles his hip on the edge. He runs a hand across his day old stubble. You’re one reach away. He doesn’t close you in. If you wanted, you could walk right past him and out the door. It’s an option. A choice. Don’t go, he means to say. But if you must, I’ll spend the rest of my days wondering where I went wrong.

“It’s. I mean,” he says, twists his rings as he usually does when he’s nervous. “I— Need to apologise. Properly.”

The sentence is stilted, and it’s impossible to not remember how he’d stumbled over his words all those years ago— A first date; Somewhere at a hotel lobby; Calling you pretty in a messy, albeit charming way. “There’s no need,” you say, because it’s the truth. You’re okay with it now, as far as okay can be. “We’re past that. We’re past all of it.”

“Even Emilio?” He waits for the recoil, the affronted look on your face, but nothing comes. 

“Emilio was…” you shrug, end it off there. Was. It’d been a mutual break over breakfast, admittedly a lovely thing of the past. Not the right person, and definitely not enough time seeing each other to make up for it. “You did apologise, though,” you remind Charles. He’d texted you on a flight back to Monaco, and you left him hanging. 

“So then it’s just… now. What happens now?” That’d been what he wanted to talk about, after all. What are we? I need to know. I need to hear it. I need you to tell me. Tell me to leave, and I will. Tell me to stay, and I will. Tell me to follow you to the ends of the earth and I will. 

“You asked what I’d like in this life,” you repeat, and you can feel your heart swell with the tide. If he noticed the warble in your voice, he didn’t comment on it, just relishes in the closeness, the proximity. It’s been so long since he’s been this near you. “I was going to say that I—” you trail off to inhale, gather your thoughts, exhale. “I want you. I always have. In this life. In all of it.”

There. There. Your heart laid out on the cutting block waiting for the final strike. Tell me you feel the same. Tell me something. Anything.

“Me too.”

Charles shortens the remaining space between you, hopes you don’t notice him shaking, fidgets at the tassels of your cover-up idly. It’s chiffon; sheer. He’s been trying not to let his eyes wander at your silhouette beneath it. His fingers curl at its threaded fringe; quiet permission. May I, May I, May I? 

This is the crest. Fall be damned.

“Tu n'as pas froid?” he asks.

You shake your head, honest. 

“Can—” he swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs, and you want to mouth at it. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper. Your pupils are blown wide, bright and inviting, and he drops his gaze. It falls on your mouth, the curl of your lips— then he’s reaching forward to kiss you.

Charles’ palms fit to your face like it’s always meant to be there, perfect, slots together like a puzzle piece. He tilts your head up, feels your hands scrape up from the nape of his neck, and he hums in response, until you can feel the vibration from his chest run into yours. He wants to breathe you in, kiss you impossibly deeper, hold you tight like this forever, until he could hide you into the spaces of his heart. 

He winds his arms around your thighs to lift you with alarming ease— and maybe that shouldn’t have turned you on more than it did— setting you gently on the countertop so he could gaze up at you like a goddess come to grace the earth. He says your name, hushed and spoken into your lips, and it sounds like a prayer. “I never stopped loving you,” he confesses, reverent, and kisses you again for emphasis, for good measure, for the sake of tasting you. “Never. No matter anything.”

You keen into his touch when he kneads at your hips, can’t stop the giggle from escaping you. It’s ticklish. He remembers. “I love you too,” you whisper, his five o’clock shadow scratching at you when he nips at your bottom lip, nudges his nose against yours. “No matter anything.”

A kiss, again. Hungrier and more eager, this time, because Charles tastes like an aphrodisiac— warm and honey sweet in all his flushed-face, bare-chested, dark-eyed, glory— and because what you wanted from him is simple. His face gleams under the wash of moonlight. Angelic. You’re half-sure you’re dreaming this, half-sure if you run your fingers down his spine you’ll feel the bump of where his wings should be.

He breaks away, rests his thumb on your lip, where you take it between your teeth.

Je m'emballé, he pants, almost wistfully, unable to resist smiling. It’s the kind that dimples deep, makes him laugh quietly under his breath, makes him duck his head down into his bicep in embarrassment. You can feel the tufts of his hair tickle your jawline, and you skim your palms up, press at the indents of his cheeks when he finally looks up at you, half-lidded and so, so, in love. “I, ah, need to…” he pulls his thumb from your mouth, pantomimes spinning a thread with his index finger. “I should.. Reel it in. Take it slow.”

“Tomorrow,” you shake your head, breathless, dizzy, half out of your mind and intoxicated by the taste of him, him, him. Slow can come tomorrow. Right now— “Just kiss me, Charles.”

And he does. He presses himself between the bracket of your thighs and undoes the buttons of your cover-up, running his lips down your throat and feeling like a live wire when you hum in content, purr in his ears. 

He kisses you, urgent, but soft, because it’s the only right way to treat you after all he’d put you through, and lets his hand slide across your buzzing skin. The tangle of your legs with his when you reach the sheets is unceremonious, bumping knees and ankles, where you slip a comment on how untidy his bed is, and he just laughs into your neck, giddy, because I’ve missed you so much, amour.

How much? you dare, trace the cupid's bow of his lips, count the freckles across his collarbones like you used to. How much have you missed me?

I’ll show you, he promises, holds your wrist down to feel your rapid pulse just like he did all those years ago, and dips his moon halo-ed head to kiss you, again and again, deep and desperate until he got you to arch, to croon his name into his ears.

And if anyone heard the both of you, well— the tide had long since been crashing in, wind soughing against the windows, where no one could possibly hear.

Pierre finds your sandals inside, on the foot of Charles’ villa door, the next morning.

“Have you seen her?” he asks, even if he knows how stupid it is to ask. (He has to check. But if the sandals, or Charles’ hair— tousled and sticking out in all directions— isn’t enough of an answer, the figure ducking just out of sight in the bedroom behind him is.)

“Uh,” Charles begins, eyes flicking down to where he’d left his slippers by yours. He blinks multiple times, tries to come up with something. He’s never been a good liar. “She’s—”

“Breakfast is in fifteen minutes,” overrides Pierre, already walking away with a grimace. “Be presentable, oui?”

You come as presentable as can be.

Everyone’s excited for the next activity of the day— a short boat trip out from the lagoon and into the sea where the manta rays would come now that they’re in season.

Carla compliments your sundress, pokes at the eyelets, and doesn’t realise you’d chosen it because the halter neck covers up the marks Charles had left on your chest. You don’t think anybody notices— anybody but Pierre, that is. He’s sitting beside Charles, looking slightly green, glancing uncharacteristically between everyone and the food but you. You would’ve laughed, but. Well. It’s awkward. Charles had told you, anyway, the moment he’d slammed the door shut and started cursing like a sailor earlier in his room. Pierre knows. He knows.

It’s fine, you’d laughed, drowned tiny in his linen button-up, squeezing toothpaste on his toothbrush for him. He won’t spill. You know him. If anything, he’ll hold it against us.

Charles had just smiled, relaxing, took the brush from your hands. Then he’s combing aside your hair in favour of nosing a kiss to the juncture of your neck, your shoulder, thought quietly to himself as the déjà vu hit, so this is what it’s like to love you freely, again.

“I’ve been keeping a secret from all of you,” you announce, when breakfast winds down, and Arthur had finally come back with his third glass of juice in hand. 

Pierre’s neck must’ve gotten whiplash with the way he’d snapped towards you. But, no, that isn’t what you’re going to be talking about. God forbid. 

You squirm in your seat as all eyes fall on you. Charles, beneath the table, nudges his ankle against yours in a silent show of affection. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. He already knows. ( You’d told him sometime last night, a final chance for him to take it all back if he wanted. Charles had simply kissed your doubts away. )

“I’ve got a contract,” you say, after a momentary beat. Then, with a heavy inhale— deep enough you could feel the sting in your diaphragms: “I’ve signed into Williams for the next Formula 1 season.”

2023. Fanfare is, obviously, as bad as it gets. 

It’s exhausting, most of all unfair, but Charles is there every step of the way, and so is Pierre. They try. They try, so you try, too.

Your debut is either controversial or progressive, the last resort or the perfect choice, a diversity seat or an earned seat. You know you won’t win against the media, much less the fans that had dug up your past and aired out whatever dirty laundry they could find in hopes of tearing you down. Your history with the drivers— Charles, specifically— has become an open secret amongst the sport. The headlines and bylined articles run wild. You’d called it, Williams called it, Ferrari called it. Hell, even Netflix called it. Talk about adding bittersweet, romantic spice into the pinnacle of motorsport, hey?

It’s a PR team's worst nightmare. The first half of the season is spent dismissing, denying, disregarding. We’re friendly competitors now. I’m here to race just like everybody else. Charles is in Ferrari and I’m in Williams, that’s what matters to me. It’s making sure you arrive into Paddocks either earlier or later than Charles, and to keep a measure of distance between each other in the off-chance you do appear at the same time. 

It’s making sure your congratulatory hugs and comments about each other are kept at a minimum after races so that no one can string up a story from those moments, that you don’t sit too close to one another during race conferences, or that you don’t get caught in pictures with each other when in airports or hotels, because it’s impossible for Charles to just be friends with a woman.

Then the death threats escalate, and the team bumps up security, and sometimes it feels like you’re eighteen again, jokingly debating the consequences of deleting all social media until Charles shuts your phone off for you. The FIA makes a late stand, exactly three races later, condemning the misogyny that surrounds you as one of the first débutantes of Formula 1. You and the other drivers just laugh at the irony of it all, over an afterparty celebrating Lando’s podium finish, because the FIA had only spoken up on it when Lewis had commented on it, but never when you did. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles had said once, after your first points had been overshadowed by hate. Baku had been one of the most exhilarating races of your life. “I want to—” he sighs, runs a hand down his face. He’s about to cry. You can tell. Not because he pities you, but because he feels helpless. “I don’t know.”

I want to protect you. I want to love you freely. I want you to be happy. No matter anything.

“I want to help,” he tries to be firm, fumbles with his words and the mess of languages in his head. “But most of all I want you to be happy.”

The pang in your heart sears like a bolt of lightning. You remember the last time you’d been in a situation like this. Except this time no one’s baring teeth and rearing for a fight. This time he’s choosing you, you, you. 

You come to the vanity he’s leaned his palms on, tuck yourself into the space between his arms to look up at him. “I’m the first female driver in decades. I scored points on debut. I very nearly had a podium finish,” you list down. “I’m in a good team, and we’re scoring. I have a supportive boyfriend. I have my family. Who says I’m not happy?”

“Charles,” you call out, half-laughing, kissing the red of his eyes away and letting your fingers scrape up from the back of his head the way he likes. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” This is how it should have turned out years ago, you realise. Instead of turning your backs against each other; instead of pretending the both of you weren’t horrifically in love with one another; instead of swallowing the ache. Maybe then the both of you wouldn’t have wasted so much time finding each other again. 

But you’re both here, now. Neither of you would give it up for the world.

The next year, your driver’s parade car— a 60’s vintage Corvette— unfortunately breaks down mid-way, and you find yourself clambering into Pierre’s so you don’t get left behind the cavalcade. The shutter of cameras grow louder; you can already picture the comments fans will leave behind.

“My car just shit itself,” you laugh. Pierre offers a hand to lift you into the seat, but you ignore it. He doesn’t comment on it. He knows why. “I’ve missed you,” he teases, blunt and honest, like he usually is, too distracted with waving at the grandstands to notice your surprise. Miami is always overwhelming.

You adjust the Williams cap on your head. “We see each other every race weekend, Piccolo.”

He shrugs, turns to see you eyeing the back of the Ferrari rolling ahead. Charles has his whole-hearted attention to the fans, as usual— a loyal sea of red that follows him everywhere he goes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” You dish out a smile and a wave when the fans scream for you at the next turn. “But you know how it is.” Pierre, or any driver— any male presence, really— could offer a ‘bless you’ when you sneeze and the fans will still find a way to give you flak for it. You still remember the one time Skysport had zoomed in on you at the weighing scales post-race in Australia, asking Daniel to help you pry open the cover of a glass bottle screwed too tight— fans flooded your comments telling you off for flirting with a man who’s attached.

“But you’re okay,” he says— asks? He can’t tell if he’d said it for himself or for you. You’ve become this unwarranted extension of Charles, now, and sometimes of Pierre too— he didn’t want you to be reduced to just that. An extension. You’re not just the girl who grew up with Charles, and Pierre, and Anthoine. You’re not just a pretty face for Formula 1. You’re brilliant; talented. You deserve your seat. The data, the achievements, speak for itself.

You smile at him, all cheeks, skip the concern in his voice as you answer humorously, “S’long as I finish the race ahead of you.”

Imola is, unfortunately, not yours to win. 

The race syphons the spirit out of you: tyre degradation, marbling, poor weather, and an even poorer pit strategy, only to end with a grand ending of a DNF thirteen laps from the finish line. Media duties always feel more stretched out in the hours afterwards, and you suppose the only silver-lining that could come out of a bad result like this is the fact that you’d—  for once— get interesting questions about the car and it’s set-up instead of your alleged ‘friction’ with Jamie Chadwick or Logan Sargeant or Nyck De Vries after you’d ‘stolen’ their Williams seat.

Your press-officer and ever present shadow warns you the coffee machine back at the motorhome is down. You wonder if your day can get any worse, descend from the pen, and make a beeline for the Ferrari motorhome next door instead. To hell with the rumours or the tiktoks— you’ll be in and out, anyway. 

“Joris,” you blink, when you finally fill your cup at their hospitality. He should be back at the paddock with his other ragtag group of friends, or supporting Il Predestinato from the pitwall himself, cheering for the red boy in the red car in the red team. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Hey, you are the stranger here,” accuses another voice. It’s Charles, appearing with hair still damp from sweat, looking as raceworn as you are, but somehow glowing, still as pristine as ever. He fidgets with his racesuit, re-tightens the sleeves into a knot around his waist. You try not to let your eyes fall to it. “What is a Williams girl doing in Ferrari?”

Moreso who, Joris coughs, only to earn an elbow into the ribs from Charles.

“Stealing iced coffee,” you reply, honestly. “Sorry I didn’t stick around. Were you P2 or P3?” You look to the screens playing highlights of the race behind him. Verstappen and Norris would be taking the 1-2 podium.

“P3.” He shrugs, cards his fingers through his hair the way he does when he doesn’t have the energy to talk about something. His press officer nudges at him, and you understand— Lord Perceval, the little boy in red, their Predestined, is needed elsewhere. “A plus tard à l'hôtel, hm?”

Charles, you nearly blurt, and tilt your head instead, raise a warning brow— he had instinctively leaned forward for a kiss. 

He fumbles through the motion by awkwardly reaching for an empty cup instead, where you turn to leave, swallow back a laugh when Joris runs a hand over his face, exasperated. Mate, you’re a shit actor.

“He’s right,” Charles admits, much later, ahead of the Monaco race day. And perhaps it was the thrill of a pole in Quali, or the adrenaline from being surrounded by support in his home race, that brings him to say, in the peace of his apartment: “Amour, when I win, let me kiss you for the world to see.”

You shut down the idea, ofcourse, with a cringe and a scrunched nose. “Lando’s shown you that side of tiktok, huh? He’s poisoned you, I fear. Also, it’s if I win, doofus, not when.”

He laughs out from his piano— the stiff kind, the one where he tries to lighten the air and gauge where the conversation will head— and motions for you to come. “Don’t girls like romantic gestures?” he hums, once you’d sat on his lap. 

His hands are gentle atop yours, ghosting over the keys to a new song he’s composing (“What’s the title for this one?” you ask. “M’not so sure, yet. But the inspiration will come.”). You both play and stumble over the chords, until you can feel the way your hearts sync in tandem, until each of you have drafted what to say to each other.

“I love you. Why should I hide it?” This will not turn into an argument. Charles won’t let it. 

“You know why,” you say, leaning into the kiss he plants on your shoulder. “Besides, the fans already sort of know there’s something.”

“Exactly.” He murmurs, steadying you as you shift in your seat. You have a perfect view of his profile, now. He looks busy in his head. “It won’t be that big a change.”

“But it will.” It will for me. For a woman. For a female racer in a sport that’s spent its decades rigged against anything but men. “Let’s get to bed, hm? We can talk about this another day. You’ve got a lot on your shoulders tomorrow.”

You don’t talk about it, in the end.

You chalk it off as timing; that you should let the days pass with celebrations before confronting him with anything. You both celebrate his first Monaco win, remember his Dad, and of Jules, of the entirety of his home country rallying in support, and of the bells that will sing in Maranello for him. 

You don’t talk about it, because there is always the crest and the fall.

You don’t talk about it when Perez clips your rear-left tyre in Baku, Azerbaijan, and sends you off at 200kph to meet your maker. The crash is so violent it practically strips your car clean, save for the survival cell. You’d sat terrified and kept watch at the turn, helpless in the middle of the street circuit, praying to God that no other car turning the high-speed corner would T-bone you straight into your side. (You finally understand George’s horror from his crash in Australia.)

You don’t talk about it even when Pierre pulls you into a hug at the Medical Centre, and your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

You don’t talk about it until Charles is holding you in your hotel room, and you admit to him, irrational and as petty as it seems: Where were you? Where were you? I feel safer with you. In your arms, than I ever would in even the strongest survival cell in the world; that you’re not quite sure you’ve ever felt pure fear sitting in that car since Spa, when An—

“They didn’t let me into the medical centre after the race,” Charles says, furious. He’s venting the stress, you realise this. He isn’t fighting you; he’s fighting the contracts that stand between you two. “If it wasn’t for Albon, I would have knocked someone’s teeth in.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t think there is anything to say. It’s nobody’s fault, you remind yourself. Sometimes, repetition breeds comfort and it makes you forget the danger of this sport. You just sit in your aftershock, rattled to the core, and let him hold his head against your heart as you both lay in bed, so he could listen to your heartbeat as a reminder you’re alive. 

“They’d have let me in if everyone knew about us,” Charles comments, off-hand. He hadn’t intended to nor realised he’d steered the topic back to that night in Monaco, but you pick up from where the both of you left off the conversation regardless. You owe it to him, you suppose. Or perhaps it’s simply something else to think about other than a brush with Death.

“December, then,” you finally relent. It isn’t grand— the world already suspects the both of you, and it was a matter of publicly announcing it— but the weight that lifts off your shoulders surprises you. There’s nothing to be ashamed about, afterall, and you’ve always wanted to love Charles as openly as any other person in the world; Screw the politics of it all. The both of you have learned from your pasts; things will be different. Better. “After the season ends.”

He nudges his nose against yours into a lavish kiss. It grounds you, makes you beam and break into a laugh and press close to him. Thank you, he breathes, because he recognises the sacrifice. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay. I love you, I love you, I love you. No matter anything. He’s not quite sure he could have held all the love in his heart any longer, much less how the both of you managed to fly under the radar these past years. Sooner or later, he would’ve slipped.

No matter anything, you mirror. You don’t linger about the accident. You dash the thought of bringing up how you could have sworn you’d heard his voice calling to you through the radio when you’d crashed; dash the thought of Anthoine, of Jules and of the radiostatic.

You let Charles wipe a tear from your eye and kiss you from your lips and to your neck and to your stomach, instead. You let him curl over you under the sheets, remind you you’re alive throughout the night.

It’s euphoric. You’re happy. This is the crest: You’re in love, and the world will know it soon. No fall can possibly break this. 

When Fall comes, Charles’ grandmother would seed Fritillaria bulbs for the next Spring. They’re bow-headed bellflowers once completely bloomed, so he always wondered why you took a liking to them instead of the Carnations or the red Spider-lilies by the flagstones leading from the backdoor and down the garden.

“The spider-lilies always bloom too late for me to see,” you remark, defensive. “Besides, sometimes there is no reason to like something.”

His Grandmother laughs. She always had a soft spot for you. “And if you try to find one, it’ll just drive you crazy,” she adds. “Never seek reason where there is none.”

Charles will think he understands this. He thinks he will understand this after Jules, after his father, after Anthoine, after his Grandmother. He never really does.

(It takes 15 years before he truly understands.)

“Come, Charles,” she waves him over. “Enough with the--

--chatter and radio-static in your in-ears. It’s hard to distinguish words, much less what was left and right or up and down. The air is rushing around you, sounding like flags in the wind. Something is crackling between the pelt of rain. Searing. 

“—epeat, can you hear me?” It’s your race-engineer. He sounds urgent. You can’t remember why. You can’t remember where you are, really; it’s just flashes of black and orange as you nod. How many G’s had you taken? “Yes,” you relay, unlocking your seatbelt instantly, feeling around your halo and sidepods. The steering wheel is gone; one less concern.

“Can you move?”

You try. You try in all possible directions; You really, really, do. But it feels as if you’re pushing against a concrete barrier, compressed into an impossible box— or cage? Your muscles hurt; it’s getting hard to breathe. How long had you been out cold?

“Get me out of here.” You’d meant to yell, but it comes out in a croak. Your throat is stinging. You want to remove your helmet, as irrational as it is, though you don’t have space for that either. 

“Marshals are working as fast as they can. Stay calm. They’re on--

--the way to Brignoles, there was a pop-up shop selling nomination bracelets,” Charles says, as cool-headed and cavalier as a 13-year-old kid could possibly say in front of their biggest crush ever, “If you don’t like it, you can give it to Pierre. Or. Whatever.”

Lorenzo, in the distance, laughs. He debates telling you how meticulous Charles had been at the booth as he picked out which charms you’d like. (He brings this up over Christmas years later, and the brothers still laugh over it. A classic of the Leclercs.) “You can rearrange and choose the pieces, by the way. Looks like the bracelet is a little too big for you.”

“I’ll give this one to Anthoine, then.” You clip off a charm— a little four-leaf clover coloured in gold and embedded onto the metal— and tuck it away into your pocket. You don’t know it yet, but Anthoine will come to wear this for the remainder of his life. “Merci beaucoup, Charles!” you fawn, rotating your wrist and listening to the tinny sounds it makes, “C'est très joli!”

You’re prettier, Charles doesn’t say, because he’s timid for his age, and God forbid he admits something like that within earshot of his brother, no less. But he admits it years later, when you both visit Brignoles to kart again. The circuit is holding a racing event in memory of Jules. “Were you actually?” you laugh, bright and resounding as you thread through the streets. 

“Ouias, I was thinking it!” He squeezes your palm. “What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”

“You’re a flirt,” you roll your--  

--eyes are tearing up from the fire. The helmet is designed to protect your head and keep the fire out, but only for so long. You’re sure the tear-offs have begun melting in its layers— it’s getting hard to see. “Please,” you manage. The strength in your body is fraying completely. Your words are weak; you aren’t even sure you’re speaking loud enough for the comms to pick up.

The silence lasts so long that you think you might have lost connection after all, when a voice comes through, serene, “They’re with you.” 

It might be your race-engineer. It might be Charles. It might be Pierre. Voices are a blur and you’re slipping by the second. You know it. You feel it. “Just stay with us. Stay with us, you understand? You’re going to be okay.”

The world is melting away, and the thin air has you locked in a plummeting tailspin. Your fingertips scald from the metal of your car as you try to breach from any angle, gloves singed and bitten through from the flames, while your mouth tastes like smoke with every harried breath. You can’t for the life of yourself figure how long you’ve been trapped. Longer than you should, probably. “I’m sorry,” you breathe out. You don’t know why you’re apologising or to who— perhaps everyone, or yourself—? but it feels right. Everything feels…

You feel yourself sink into your seat.

There’s fear, still, stirring low like whitenoise in your heart; the same kind of feeling you get when you’re swimming in the ocean, and you’re starkly aware of how your feet can’t reach the ground. 

Dread, perhaps, is the word. But bigger and more quieter. All racers feel it atleast once in their life. 

But this… peace? You’re not quite sure you’ve felt this boneless with relaxation in your entire lifetime. (Had this been what Grosjean meant about ‘Benoît’?)

“They’re right on you. They’ve got you,” they call your name. It’s distant. The car— this living, breathing machine that you’ve become one with for the past year— seems to shift in its weight with a metallic groan. “Are you with me?”

Yes, you answer them. I am.

They call your name--

--again,” Charles dimples, gentle and polite as he rubs a thumb at the back of your palm. The sun is setting, and it’s turning your skin liquid gold before his very eyes. He wonders if it’s possible to get drunk off of the sight of you alone.

“You know what, I give up,” you huff, half-hearted as he noses a kiss into your neck. He breathes you in, murmurs some comment about how you smell like fresh laundry. “You should quit racing and become a full time musician.”

“And leave the fun of racing to you?”

You lay the back of your head to his chest. If you focus, you can feel the pulse of his heart. You want to fall asleep to it; to the lull of his voice as he speaks. “I’ll win the championship for the both of us.”

“We can both be world champion.” Charles descends across the chords again, the melody slow and graceful. “Me first, though.”

You laugh. It’s punched out, yet delicate. Charles thinks he could never compose a piece as beautiful as that sound you make; could never find an art piece as striking to his heart as the sight of you sitting warm between his arms. “What will you title this one?”

He makes a noise, and cocks his head. “What about…” he pauses. You wait patiently, tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch the gears in his head turn. “No matter anything?”

“No matter anything,” you assent, breaking into a grin. He presses a kiss into your hair, and you take his hand up to your lips to return the gesture. “You’re so lame. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bumps his cheek to yours, where you catch the tail-end of that boyish laughter you’ve grown to cherish. “C’mon, let’s try again. Give me your--

--hand, amour. Don’t be scared. It’s okay. 

And you may be having trouble reconciling left to right, but this voice, the vowels and Its lilting cadence— Charles, your beloved, your heart, your soul— you have no trouble remembering, at all.

I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

No matter anything.

So you’d followed It obediently; led hand in hand through rain and across asphalt, and kept walking somewhere in-between the margins of what felt like a waking dream, until you settled on the evergreen grass of his childhood home, overgrown and tickling your ankles, beside the purple-dotted bellflowers his grandmother tends to so carefully.

You follow the carnations all the way to the flagstone path that’s twisting in ways that defy logic, take the time to admire the spider-lilies that are finally blooming for you, until you reach that familiar Coast off of South France, a thousand miles away from home.

A boy a lot like Charles dimples at you, carrying Blue Coasts in his hands.

Then, someone else offers you a hand up to the boat.

Hey you, says the boy with the clover charm on his wrist.

You smile, and rest.

Fritillaries, Charles is reminded. He’s paralysed with fear, watching the screens in the garage document everything:

Your body dragged out from underneath the fiery pile up— bow-headed like bellflowers in riotous bloom.

This. 

This is the Fall.

It— the situation— doesn’t quite hit his brain yet, but his heart has caught up somehow; the tears haven’t stopped falling. He thinks this is some twisted catatonia— stupor— his body is putting him through. (Shock, he remembers the correct term, later.) 

He hasn’t felt like this before; not for Jules, or for his father, or for his grandmother. He had time for those. He had time to brace for the end, like headlights you see at the end of a road, before it hurtled towards him. 

But this? This is a band-aid ripped without warning. This is antifreeze running through his veins. This is the abyss at the bottom of the ocean, come to swallow him whole. This is standing outside the ICU on a Sunday evening, with the best minds and Doctors that Singapore has to offer, declaring: We tried our best, and feeling the earth open up beneath his own two feet.

The Williams personnel— your team, your work family— take the reigns. They smother the pain because that’s what they need to do for everyone right now, and tell Charles to just take a seat, or go home, mate. We’ll handle it from here. It’s okay. If you want, I can contact someone. Do you want me to contact someone?

Maman, Charles calls, sounding lost and frighteningly like a child. Ma mère— my Mama.

Then he roots himself outside the unit, stills himself from the crown of his head down to the soles of his feet, and… waits. He doesn’t know why, though. It’s not like it’d change anything. His mother is a thousand miles away, and the phone call they eventually share does little to comfort him, and it’s not like he’s expecting you to exit the room and jump into his arms. 

He isn't sure. He hasn’t kept track of time, or what has been happening around him. He hasn’t even—

“Charles, precious boy, let’s go back home, yes? You must be so tired.”

He’s quick to bow his head. Andreas must have sent her his way. “Ma’am—” He hasn’t called your mother that in a long time, “—you shouldn’t have troubled yourself.”

“Pascale w— Your mother would hate to see you like this,” she says, thin and doting and worried for him, of all things. Who is he to deserve this patience, when she’s just lost her daughter? “Pierre is waiting too.”

“Pierre,” repeats Charles. My best friend. 

He blinks and breathes and blinks again. “Okay.”

“Yes,” she says, and gently leads him by the hands. She’s not quite sure Charles notices he’s still in his racesuit— they’d red-flagged the race and called it then and there following the shunt, 4 laps away from the end. Charles had bolted straight out the garage and skipped every media duty, fines be damned. “I think it’d do you two some good to be around each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

An aside on the strange thing we call grief: it can be a rampant, demonic, abysmal thing— so it goes for Pierre— or a quiet, quiet, stillness— so goes for Charles. 

(It should be said they will both experience the same things in due time, since the journey is never quite the same for either of them; or anyone involved, for that matter. Grief is just the unsaids and the excess, anyway, of every kind of love one can uniquely share with a single person. There is no existence of a baseline or foundation or limit. It simply is.)

And if you’d brought the best in Pierre, then losing you brought his worst—

So it’s no surprise that when he crumples, he tears everything else down with him.

That’s not to say his breakdown happens during the funeral, though. Yes, there had been something about the fritillaries and the hydrangeas and the knell of the church bells; Something in the arid, clotting smell of frankincense and myrrh, and the distant thin drift of smoke up in the chapel that had sent his guts curling up at the thought of that black, forsaken night back in Si— 

He shoves off someone’s steadying hand.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Charles.”

—but the funeral had gone fine, other than that. Hell, Pierre drifted through the rest of the season, albeit like a ghost of himself, racing against Colapinto who’d replaced you. He managed to power through the annual driver-dinner despite wanting to throw up from seeing the empty seat they’d left in your name, and powered through the choking grief during the 2024 FIA Awards Ceremony where they did the same in your honour.

It’s only when he gets shitfaced at Alex and Lily’s wedding. 

In hindsight, Pierre thinks it might not have been because of Charles playing that piano-piece he’d made with you for the newlyweds, but the fact that everyone had been— happy. You would have been grateful, he thinks. To have your memory lived on in love. 

Surrounded by silken, pastel gowns and white, floor-length veils and perfectly-timed petals sailing down from the lavender sky, Pierre has to remind himself that he’s not back in that dreamy Malta wedding he had been in with you three years ago. Three. Fuck— had it been that long? 

(Life had gone on without you.

Ofcourse, it did. Ofcourse, it does.)

And so Pierre drinks.

He drinks the overpriced champagne, and the aged Riesling, and the Jameson Malt whiskey, and the bespoke St. Hugo wine that Danny sponsored cartons of for the wedding. He drinks and drains and downs until Charles had to tug him aside and into a washroom, telling him to take it easy, you’re embarrassing yourself, piccol—

“Ne t’avise pas de me toucher, putain,” Pierre hisses, snatching him up by the collar. “And don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get to.”

“What the hell is up with you?” Charles snaps, wrenching out his grasp. There’s no malice in his words; he’s simply never seen Pierre shoot a glare so savage that it physically makes him recoil at the sight. There had been the absence too: Pierre’s sudden severance from his life, avoiding him like the plague and cold-shouldering him like a child acting out a tantrum. Charles had gathered it'd been the grief, but now this—?

“None of this is fair,” Pierre waves, stumbling to lean onto the basin with a growl. “None of it. The fucking flowers and the dancing and the singing. They…” But then he’d shaken his head abruptly, and looked up at Charles in the reflection of the mirror, looking pristine as ever in his Spring Collection Armani suit— or whatever the fuck it is he’s wearing.

“You,” Pierre amends his words. “You don’t fucking deserve. You never did, but I…”

“Deserve what, you asshole?”

“Her.”

A beat. 

Charles seizes. Pierre turns to face him.

“What is it you say, again, Calamar?” he hiccups. “No matter anything—?”

Something sobers him in an instant.

Charles had struck him.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

There’s a ringing pulsing all around Pierre’s head. Dizzying. The world ripples into painful clarity: he’s been shoved and pinned against the bathroom wall. “I told you not to touch me, you basta—”

“Fucking answer me, Pierre!” 

“I said!” he snarls, now in full command of his senses. “That you never fucking deserved her.”

The scuffle is vicious—

—but it doesn’t last long. Lewis had intervened before the fight got too bloody and out of hand, prying them off each other like wild strays. Charles comes out with a nosebleed; Pierre recovers from drunken bruises and a split lip. Neither Alex nor Lily, fortunately, ever hear a peep about what had gone down that night.

By 2025 pre-season testing, they still don’t talk. 

Not since the wedding in early January, to pre-seasons in February, nor when they shared a podium in the first race of the year that mid-March in Australia. “Whatever the hell it was I stopped that night… You gotta talk to him, man,” Lewis had even counselled out of the blue. “Don’t wanna end up like me, Charles. You don’t.”

He doesn’t listen, ofcourse. He’s petty like that, and Pierre is stubborn.

(Charles does, however, ask during a 20-second elevator ride down to their shared Melbourne hotel lobby:

“For how long, Pierre?”

There’s no need for thought. The answer is too easy.

“For as long as I knew her.”)

So it doesn’t take much before the fans put the pieces together. There had been that pianissimo lament Charles had released, after all, damningly titled ‘SIN24(1:4)’ like something out of a melodramatic movie, alongside a heartbreaking interview that tore the entirety of motorsport asunder from the sheer grief it carried. Couple that with existing connections over the years with you and Charles’ rekindling relationship— 

Well.

Perhaps one of the greatest tragedies of all is that the world doesn’t fully learn about Charles' love for you until after your death.

Or, no. The greatest tragedy, perhaps, is that no one knows—

“I loved her first,” Pierre laughs, meanly. It’s childish and immature and nonsensical. But what can he do? What can he do? This is Pierre, who has been so polite with his longing, who has carried so much love in his heart for you and never found a place to put it down.

This is Pierre who couldn’t begin the next day without you, because you took the sun with you when you’d gone and selfishly left nothing but a cavern in his soul; because his heart was still pulling through every yesterday he had to endure without you.

“So who are you so angry at, Pierre. Charles?” Over the phone, he can hear his mother set her mug down, resolute. “Your best friend?”

“He’s—!” Not my best friend, he’d wanted to cry out, but the words taste rotten. My best friends are 6 feet beneath the earth; in a place I can’t reach. He kicks the leg of his hotel vanity instead, hard enough to rattle a perfume bottle down to the carpet. “Pierre,” he hears his mother chide. 

“You need each other. Now more than ever.”

“I can’t,” he says, face twisting into frustration as the tears blur his vision. “You don’t understand. How can you?”

“Unless, dear boy, you’re angry at her—”

“Non! No!” he cries, furious. “For fucks sake, I can never be angry at her. I loved her. Love. Maman, I love her. I can’t— I don’t—”

He’s looking back on it all now. It feels like remembering how you left someone through the rearview mirror. The months since your death had collapsed into a shrinking gap in his memory. He had only ever been placing one foot in front of the other, day by day by day by—

When did you become this? Something he couldn’t think become possibly worse? Worse than an agonising pain that screamed in his chest, a twist in his gut, a— a memory. Memory. Someone he could only cry or scream and never just talk about. 

You who’d held his heart in such an relentlessly tight fist  (unknowingly too, so how could he ever blame you?); paralysing, breaking— And then: you up and fucking went. You’re gone. Yet somehow, still, he thinks he’s never felt you haunt him now more than ever. 

“I’m— It’s me,” he crumbles, choking in his tears. There’s that harrowing, daunting feeling gripping Pierre’s entire body again; makes him want to curl in on himself and squeeze into the tightest, darkest corner of the room and disappear. It’s the same pit of dread he’d felt that night they broke the news to him that you’d died from asphyxiation, and not upon impact.

(Slow. You had died slow. You must have been terrified.)

“I’m so fucking angry at everything. At the world. At me. I wish I never took on this pain. I wish I learned to let go easier. I wish she was here, because I miss her. I miss her so bad, Mama, I fucking miss her. Do you understand me? Tell me you do. Because I think I could die. I think I am dying. I want— To, I— I can’t— I can’t breathe. Not without—” 

My boy, his mother weeps over the line, because sometimes that’s all a mother can do to console their twenty-seven-turned-seven-year-old child, halfway across the world. My sweet, darling boy. I’m so sorry.

It’s Doohan who he goes to, heaving and red-faced and trembling out of his skin like a cowering dog. They sit together for a long while; long enough for Jack to realise it’s not him who Pierre needed, but — Charles, Jack texts, He’s having a panic attack. 

I’m already boarding my flight, the Monegasque answers, bitterly. It’s the truth. The thing about having Lewis Hamilton as a teammate is that you can leave as early as you wish for the next race. Just keep me updated. Tell him to pick up my call.

Charles calls once, ten minutes later.

Pierre doesn’t pick up.

He doesn’t bother calling again.

— I miss her too, is all he allows via text, and isn’t even surprised when he sees Pierre’s phonescreen has earned a new crack on it the next time they cross paths.

A shunt in Shanghai rattles something in Pierre again. 

“I thought you—” he swallows, mouth dry, “—would’ve been at the Medical Centre. I looked for you.”

“They cleared me,” Charles explains, blankly. It had been a gnarly crash, but barely ranking in any of the worst ones he’d ever suffered. “Pierre?”

“I owe you a drink,” Pierre blurts, before thinking. The scar on Charles’ nose from when he’d punched him back in January is invisible to everyone but him (and Lewis).

“Ouias. You do.”

They don’t get their drink in Shanghai, but back in Monaco, where Charles had to be taken on a detour to for some APM photoshoot. It doesn’t take long for another argument to spring up between them again, borne from the tension in the air, and—

“You threw them away?” Pierre frowns, looking at the remaining PR boxes stacked at the corner of Charles’ apartment. Every single one of them had cards with your name on it. They must have been from last year, sent by brands and companies long before your accident had happened. 

“Not all of it. Not yet. I…” he huffs when Pierre shoots him a sour look. “I didn’t have the time.”

Pierre sets the Whiskeys he owed onto the kitchen island with more force than necessary. “She would have wanted you to give them away, Charles. C'est du gâchis.”

“Don’t tell me what she’d want,” he bites, instinctively. He snags one of the bottles and doesn’t bother with taking crystals, just goes to slump at the foot of his living room sofa. (Not on it, because you’d laid there last, and he wanted to keep your scent on the throw rug for as long as he could.) “And I know. I gave most of it away to Lily, back in January. She wears the pieces to paddock sometimes.”

“Does she know that it’s—”

“Yeah. Ofcourse. The first time she went to wear one she took the time to ask me if I was okay with it.” She’d been kind. He forgets Lily had lost a dear friend in you, too.

“What about her other things?” Pierre asks, eyes scanning Charles' shared apartment with you. Your possessions have remained in time, caught and clung frozen in a glacial, eerie stillness: the slippers by the door seemed to wait to be worn again, and so did the half-empty bottle of perfume by the keys. “Did you throw those too?”

“Pierre,” Charles warns, before sighing. The weight of the day had suddenly crashed down on him. “Sit the fuck down.”

There’s an anger and sadness swarming up and threatening to choke him, but beneath that, something hurts him more. It feels a lot like a betrayal– which makes no sense, because Pierre has never made him any promises. Despite having a ringside seat to the relationship Charles had with you, Pierre has never interfered; has only ever protected you; and above all else, had been considerate about his love for you.

(And Charles knows intimately what that’s like, however brief his experience had been. The white-hot pain; a burn that smoulders continuously under the skin like embers. He can only imagine how much longer Pierre had suffered in silence compared to him.)

Pierre sits. Takes a swig after Charles does. There’s something in his mind begging to resurface— he might’ve done something like this with him before, sharing a bottle amongst each other like teens. There are 4 people in that distant memory. He shakes it away in favour of another thought.

“I almost deleted my chat with her,” Pierre says.

Charles had pieces of you everywhere he went. Charles had Pau, France; had the bungalows in Maldives, had the chords of your song in his fingertips when he plays the piano, had the handwritten chicken-scratch writings you’d left behind in his little notebook he carries into the Ferrari garage. He had a song he made for you that’s unfinished, the chords in his laptop frozen in time from when you’d sat on his lap to listen to what progress he made.

(It’s a song unfinished, he’d explained, when it’d been pointed out in an interview. A lot like her, he couldn’t bring himself to say, eyes catching on the polaroid of you stuck at a wall.)

Pierre only had you, and you alone. A museum of text messages in an old chat, or a photo album of you in his gallery, or your bright voice in an old voice message over the phone, sent from a million miles away, once upon a Tuesday. He scrolls them as far as the app allows him, and calls your number (hoping, irrationally, that you’d pick up) so he could hear your cheesy pre-recorded voicemail.

“You have no idea how much better I could have loved her, Charles,” he says, and it’s so soft that the Monegasque nearly misses it. “I could have loved her better than you. I did love her better than you. I’ve loved her all my life, you know?”

The air is dead silent between them. Charles rests the back of his head to a cushion, and can feel the world warp between the tipsiness. “But I loved her.” I did. I did. I loved her. I love her. Je l’aimais. Because what is there left to say? To argue about? What would it change?

Pierre nods. “Yeah.” He can recognise it; recognise himself. What Charles had was true— and above all, real— so Pierre couldn’t have a say on it. Who was he to do so? He of all people had no right. “I know,” he agrees, and tries to tamp down the waver in his voice. “I know you did, Charles.”

“Did you ever think to tell her?”

“No,” he flinches, lightning quick. “Why would I?”

“Tell me the truth, Pierre, or I’ll crack this bottle at your head.”

“Never, Charles.”

Something savage ignites in him. You fucking liar, Charles thinks— knows. Harsher words snap in his mind. They taste disgusting. Maybe it’s the alcohol.

He doesn’t force him, in the end, just scowls and sets the emptying bottle down with a disappointed thud. It would’ve been unfair, anyway. Everything about this is unfair. He figures Pierre is keeping the truth for his sake. He isn’t even sure if he’d have been able to take it, and he’s not sure if he should even be grateful. He’s just angry. And it’s so much more easier to be angry at Pierre than it would be to whatever divine being that decided to take you away from him.

“I hate you,” Charles admits. If he said it any louder then Pierre might’ve heard the lie in his voice. He probably knows, anyhow. If there’s one thing grief had gifted them, it was clarity in the off-moments. 

(Charles briefly closes his eyes. What is it Mémère had told him again? Never seek reason where there is none.)

“I understand,” Pierre says, and then, with little malice: “I hate you too.”

Now, this may be a good place to worry about another fall: 

A fault line driven like a crack between their childhood friendship, a petty amount of years spent ignoring each other, or a farce held up to the media that everyone can very clearly see through. But this isn’t Lewis or Nico; this isn’t that kind of story— animosity over competition is different to animosity over heart, even if the outcome could be the same. 

No; Pierre and Charles will eventually come to the ugly realisation that out of the original four of their childhood friend group, only two of them are the last ones standing to achieve this godforsaken dream— and nothing brings two people of shared history together like all-encompassing grief.

There is no crest or fall here. There is only that plateau you feel in your soul after losing someone dearest to you; a vast ocean of Nothingness; Doldrums. They’re both sinking in it. 

What an inconvenience it is that they happen to be each other’s lifelines, too.

“Will you drink with me?” invites Charles, on the second bottle he goes to take. (Will you drown with me? More like.)

Ofcourse, the louder part of Pierre doesn’t say. You are my greatest friend, and I am not that cruel. 

“Okay,” Pierre nods, resolute, and resists to tag Calamar at the end of his answer. 

They’ll be fine. They will be because they have to be, now that four has turned to three has turned to two. 

To put it all simply: they cannot lose each other. They have no one else. 

You have made sure of that.

The Universe has made sure of that.

“I wanted to plant fritillaries,” Pierre quietly says. “I couldn’t make it past the cemetery gates.”

A hum. “Let’s go together.”

“We will never be the same, after,” Pierre warns, after a long drawn out pause. “Calamar, I need you to know. I won’t apologise.”

“Bien sûr,” Charles confesses. “I don’t want you to.” 

Something unspoken in the air lifts as they pass the bottle again to each other.

“Okay. When should we plant it?” 

Charles thinks of your sunshine smile in the evergreen garden, again. 

“Après la saison d'automne,” he mumbles. Then, lucidly: “Fritillaries are planted after Fall.”

* Footnotes, regarding the story.

Charles you are the table GAGGED HIM LMAO

Shameless

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: you + Lestappen + a sex tape leak + one very unamused head of communications … need I say more?

Based on this request

The Red Bull Racing communications office smells like stale coffee and impending doom. Portia, the team’s head of communications, sits stiffly in the center of the storm, knuckles white around her phone. She stares at the video playing on her laptop, horrified but unable to look away.

The footage is intimate, explicit — grainy but undeniably clear. Three people, tangled up in sheets, moaning names, gasping into each other’s mouths. Max Verstappen. You. And, unmistakably, Charles Leclerc.

Her inbox is a dumpster fire of urgent PR memos, emails with subject lines in all caps, and press releases that have already been revised half a dozen times. She hasn’t even responded to half of them yet. No point.

This is beyond damage control.

The door swings open violently, smacking into the wall. Max strolls in first, looking every bit as casual as if he just finished a training session. You follow behind him, your hair in a messy bun, holding a half-eaten croissant. Charles is the last to enter, chewing gum like this is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Portia blinks at the three of you. “… What the hell?”

Max plops into the chair across from her, sprawling out like he’s just arrived at a friend’s house. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Portia repeats, incredulous. “You-” She gestures frantically toward her screen. “The video. The world just saw everything, Max! You, her, him-” She throws a desperate look at Charles, who only shrugs.

“Yeah. We saw,” Charles says casually, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Max. “Kind of funny, no?”

Portia makes a strangled noise in her throat. “No! It is not funny, Charles. None of this is funny!” She can already feel the migraine creeping in, sharp and mean behind her left eye.

Max leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Listen, it’s not like we were hiding it. We’ve been-”

“Friends,” you interject, your voice calm as ever. “Very close friends.”

Charles grins. “Really close.”

Max winks. “Super close.”

Portia pinches the bridge of her nose. “Stop saying that.”

“You’re the one freaking out,” Max says, as if that makes any of this better. “It’s not a big deal.”

Portia throws up her hands. “Max, it’s not just a sex tape. It’s a scandal. Sponsors, shareholders, media outlets — everyone is calling. Red Bull is losing its mind, Ferrari is fuming, and the internet-” She gestures vaguely toward the air, as if the internet is some wild animal loose in the building. “-is losing its collective shit.”

Charles leans back, folding his arms behind his head. “The internet always loses its shit.”

“True,” Max agrees, glancing at you. “Remember when they thought we broke up because I didn’t post anything for two weeks?”

You hum thoughtfully, finishing the last bite of your croissant. “They were so mad.”

Portia stares at the three of you like she’s trapped in some bizarre fever dream. “Are none of you remotely concerned about this?”

Max shrugs. “Not really.”

“It’s out now,” you say, wiping your hands on a napkin. “What’s the point of stressing?”

Charles nods like you just delivered the most profound truth of the century. “Exactly. It’s not like we can put it back in the box.”

“Oh my god,” Portia mutters, pressing her palms to her temples. “You’re all insane.”

Max flashes her a charming smile — the kind that usually gets him out of trouble. “Come on, Portia. You handle worse than this all the time.”

“Not this, I don’t!” She groans. “I mean, sure, we’ve dealt with crashes, team infighting, broken engines, drunk interviews-” She shoots a pointed look at Max, who grins unapologetically. “But this? This is next level.”

Charles checks his phone, seemingly unbothered by her panic. “The fans seem to love it, though. Look-” He flips the screen toward Portia. It’s a Twitter thread full of memes and heart-eye emojis, captioned with things like Lestappen and Y/N living their best lives and Honestly, goals.

Portia glares at the phone like it just insulted her family. “This is not helping.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Actually, it kind of is.” He points at the screen. “If the fans are cool with it, the sponsors will calm down eventually.”

“Sponsors are not fans.” Portia slams her laptop shut, as if doing so will somehow make the problem disappear. “Sponsors are very rich, very conservative people who do not want their logos anywhere near a video of you having a threesome!”

Charles clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Technically, it’s not just a threesome.”

Portia shoots him a death glare. “I swear to God, Charles-”

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Max notices, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nudges you with his elbow. “See? Even Y/N thinks it’s funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you admit, which only makes Charles beam with satisfaction.

Portia looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown. “This is not funny. None of this is funny.”

“I think you need to relax,” Max says, as if that’s the simplest solution in the world. “It’s not like we committed a crime.”

“It might as well be,” Portia snaps. “Do you know what Ferrari is going to do with this? They’re probably drafting some moral code violation complaint as we speak.”

Charles waves a hand dismissively. “They can’t fire me. I bring too much to the table.”

Portia gives him a flat look. “Charles, you are the table.”

“Exactly.”

Max turns to you, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair. “Do you think we should put out a statement?”

You consider it for a moment, then shake your head. “Nah. Statements are boring.”

“Agreed,” Charles says, pulling his phone back out to scroll through more tweets. “No one likes statements.”

Portia exhales slowly, as if trying to summon every ounce of patience she has left. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Your solution to this PR nightmare is ... to do absolutely nothing?”

“Exactly,” Max says with a satisfied nod. “We just let it blow over.”

“Like Austria,” you add.

Portia stares at you, aghast. “Austria? You cannot compare this to a racing incident in Austria!”

Max looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. I think it’s kind of similar. People get mad for a while, then they forget.”

Charles grins mischievously. “By next week, someone else will do something stupid, and no one will care about this.”

Portia groans, dragging her hands down her face. “You are all ... impossible.”

Max reaches across the table to pat her shoulder. “You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”

“Max,” Portia says, her voice low and dangerous. “If this mess costs us a single sponsor — just one — I swear I will make your life a living hell.”

Max’s grin widens. “You already do.”

You burst out laughing at that, and even Portia can’t suppress a reluctant smile, though it’s clear she’s fighting it with every fiber of her being.

“This isn’t over,” she warns, but there’s no real bite in her voice.

“It never is,” Charles says breezily. “But that’s half the fun, no?”

You lean into Max’s side, content and completely unbothered, and he drapes an arm around your shoulders. Charles glances over at the two of you, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “See? We’re all good. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Portia shoots him a murderous glare. “Do not say that.”

Max laughs, the sound low and easy, and for a moment, it feels like the world outside the room doesn’t exist — no scandals, no cameras, no angry emails. Just the three of you, stuck in the strangest mess, but somehow, perfectly fine with it.

And, really, isn’t that all that matters?

***

A few weeks later, Portia is sitting at her desk, sipping her second coffee of the morning, when her inbox pings with a new email. She glances at the subject line, hoping it’s something routine — maybe a press update, or an invitation to a sponsor event.

Instead, her heart drops.

URGENT: New Video — Verstappen, Leclerc, and Y/L/N on Beach Vacation

She groans audibly, slamming her head down on the desk with a dramatic thud. They didn’t listen to her at all.

Opening the email, her stomach churns as she scrolls down to the attached link. The video loads instantly — there’s Max, Charles, and you, sun-kissed and carefree, lounging on beach chairs somewhere tropical. The sound of waves crashing in the background is almost soothing.

Almost.

And then, without warning, it escalates — hands everywhere, tangled limbs, kisses that start off playful but quickly turn into something else entirely. A bottle of rosé tips over in the sand as Max pulls you onto his lap, and Charles leans over, dragging his mouth along your shoulder with a grin.

Portia shakes her head in disbelief, muttering under her breath, “I’m going to kill them.”

Another ping. This time, a text from Max.

Saw the email. You’re gonna love the next one.

She screams into her coffee mug.

Hello, can I please request Charles jealous smut?

AN: Definitely went a bit of a different route than normal but I enjoyed writing this! Started it right before I went to the hospital and was able to finish it tonight! I hope you guys enjoy. I know its a bit shorter but I'm running on melatonin and oxi so bare with me haha

TW: multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, low-key asshole Charles (very beginning)

WC: 1.2K

Y/N POV

"Charles, what's wrong?" I ask for the third time since getting back into the car after leaving the end of year Ferrari dinner.

"God damn it, Y/N! Nothing I said nothing was fucking wrong," Charles snaps at me making me gasp slightly at the out burst.

"Charles Leclerc, do not ever speak to me like that again," I shout at him when we finally get back to the apartment.

I had chosen to keep quiet the rest of the way home, hoping it would help cool the both of us down but when we walked through the door and Charles instantly beelined for our bedroom mumbling to himself I finally snap.

"Then don't ever talk to Carlos Sainz again," Charles snap back while turning around to show he had fire in his eyes.

It finally had clicked for me. Charles was jealous which isn't something that happens often but when it does he tends to turn into the green monster.

"Charles, are you fucking kidding me! Carlos is leaving Ferrari, and I was telling him about how I've enjoyed his time with Ferrari," I shout back at him making Charles roll his eyes before stomping his way into the bedroom and slamming the door. The whole dramatics

A part of me just laughs softly at his childish antics but the other part of me is still raging with anger at the way he had spoken to me.

I make my way into the kitchen grabbing myself something to drink before grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking a shot of the bitter liquor.

When I feel myself cool down just enough I march into out bedroom to find Charles already under the covers ready for bed but instead of him laying in the middle of the bed like normal he's on the very edge as far away from my side as possible.

"I hope Leo pushes you off the bed," I scoff when Charles doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Maybe if you slept in Carlos's bed like you want I would have more room to cuddle with Leo," Charles replies back in a sheepish mumble showing me that he's getting close to crumbling and apologizing.

"It's actually why I came in here. Need to pack an overnight bag," I comment with a smirk on my face but before I can even make it into the closet Charles is up from his spot on the bed and storming towards me before pushing me against the wall.

"You think this is funny?" Charles seethes making me shrug my shoulders.

"I mean ya kind of Charles, we both know damn well I have never and will never be into Carlos, so ya you being jealous and threatened by him is hilarious," I reply back making Charles's eyes narrow slightly at me before I see his should relax slightly.

"I- 'm sorry," Charles mumbles clearly letting the embarrassment sink in.

"I don't know why it upset me so much tonight. I know it's not an excuse but I am sorry for getting jealous and even more sorry for how I spoke to you," Charles admits softly while pulling my face into his hand.

"I don't even care when you get jealous, if anything I find it hot as fuck, but I do care about the way you speak to me," I tell him softly feeling my anger slowly start to ease.

"I know and it was wrong, I really am sorry," Charles says again making me smile softly and nod my head.

"You're forgiven, but I demand 3 orgasms," I say with a smile and a nod.

"Deal," Charles says with a laugh before pulling me in and placing a soft kiss on my lips and pulling me by my waist towards our bed.

When Charles drops me down on the bed he quickly climbs up to join me pulling off his shirt at the same time.

When Charles joins me on the bed he wraps my legs around his hips before he leans down and pulls me in for a kiss while grinding his hard cock down into my dripping core.

"Charles please, I need you," I whine when I can feel my pleasure soaking through my flimsy panties.

Charles finally pulls back and quickly pulls my panties off before wasting no time attaching his mouth to my sensitive clit. He knew it wouldn't take long to throw me over the edge but when I feel him slipping his fingers into my soaked pussy I can't help the loud cry that falls from my lips.

"Fuck! Charlie," I cry when I feel his fingers grazing my G-spot while his lips are still sucking on my clit.

"Cum for me," Charles mumbles into my pussy making me cry out and cum all over his finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan in a chant as Charles continues to fuck me through my first orgasm.

"Too much," I cry when I realize Charles isn't letting me come down from my high but rather throwing me right into another orgasm.

"You want three no?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face before speeding his fingers up even more and attaching his mouth back to my overly sensitive clit.

"Charles," I cry out when I feel his start speeding all his actions up clearly with the intentions to bring me to another orgasm.

"Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself fall over the edge again not expecting the orgasm to hit me so fast.

"Fuck, good girl," Charles groans while fingering me harder and letting me squirt all over the bed and his face.

As soon as I started to come down from my high Charles is quickly pulling his boxer off before climbing back into bed and quickly rubbing the tip of his hard leaking cock through my soaked folds before finding my dripping hole and quickly pushing his whole cock deep into my pussy making me whimper the the stretch of his cock.

"Fuck!" Charles and I both groan put at the exact same time while he starts slowly thrusting his hips in and out of my soaked pussy.

It doesn't take long for me to fully adjust to Charles's size and once I do he quickly speeds up his trusts while making sure to hit all the good spots deep within my pussy.

"Fuck Charlie," I cry out when I feel myself crawling closer and closer to another orgasm.

"Fuck, feel so good," Charles cries out as his hips start to shutter a bit letting me know he was getting close to cumming as well.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel Charles bring his fingers down to my clit and teasing me until I fall over the edge pulling him with me.

"Fuck," Charles grunts out when I feel his hip shutter one final time before filling my pussy up with his hot cum.

As we are both trying to catch our breath I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to rest his body on top of mine.

"Fuck, that was good," I breath out making Charles laugh softly.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you in the car and when we got home," Charles says while slowly slipping his softening cock out of me and laying on his back and pulling me into his chest.

"You're forgiven, I guess," I tease making Charles roll his eyes softly but still pull me in tighter to his chest.

"I love you and thinking about losing you makes me a bit insane," Charles admits making me smile softly. I definitely couldn't imagine my life without him either.

"I love you too," I reply back softly while curling into his side a bit closer.

2K event

I was looking at my blog for the first time in months in I noticed today that I am less than 300 followers away from hitting 2k and when I do hit it I will be doing an event to celebrate since I didn't for hitting 1K which was my original plan but I hit it so fast I had no time to prepare.

I have made a list of 15 fics I want to do but I need you guys to pick which driver you want to see! Just message me with which driver you want to see for a specific story! Once a fic has been claimed I will update this page! It will be first come first serve.

Some of these might even become a universe here at Lee-Lee's so if you end up falling in love with a story send in requests for it to keep it alive!

Masterlist (Will link once every AU has been claimed)

Side Note: I am trying to keep this as diverse as possible so I will more than likely not be using the same driver more than once (other than our Wag x Driver x Reader threesome)

Prompts for event

Porn star! Carlos X innocent! reader (Claimed)

Y/N is the innocent college student who secretly pays for a subscription on a porn sight to watch her favorite actor. When she finally starts using all the features her subscription has to offer she starts to build a little relationship with the man behind the screen.

Kinks involved - innocent kink, phone/ facetime sex, virginity loss, long-term edging, corruption, first orgasm

Tattoo artist! Lewis X piercer! reader (claimed)

Y/N is the new piercer her boss can't seem to take his eyes off of. What happens when he gets the bright idea of having reader give him a Jacob's ladder piercing. It becomes the start of their unprofessional relationship inside and outside the walls of his shop.

Kinks involved - body modifications (piercings and tattoos), oral (HUGE oral kink), forced orgasms, pleasure dom

Virgin! Oscar X PR manager! Reader (claimed)

Y/N has watched the way her driver interacts with fans and can't help but slightly fall in love with him, but what happens when she finds out he's spent his whole life working towards his career that he has never had a girlfriend or sex for that matter. She makes it her mission to corrupt and tease the driver until she gets what she wants.

Kinks involved - CORRUPTION KINK, sub! driver, loss of virginity

Charles X Pay for Sex! reader (claimed)

When Y/N gets a hefty payment to spend an entire weekend in Monaco fully paid for she's shocked to find a F1 driver on the other side of the door. She spends the weekend being his sex slave.

Kinks involved - sex slave, FREE USE

Pierre x Max X Reader (Claimed)

When Y/N brings up the idea of spicing up their sex life she's shocked to find her boyfriend brings up the idea of being with one of the other drivers on the grid. She's even more shocked when they make it back to his place to find a full furnished and decorated sex room.

Kinks involved - threesome, toys, bondage, edging, multiple orgasms

Lando X Luisha X reader (Claimed)

When Y/N and her WAG bestie start a low-key affair behind her best friend's back their shocked when her boy friend finds out and instead of him being upset is only rule is he gets to join sometimes.

Kinks involved - CHEATING (not a kink but a TW), threesome, wlw

Oscar X Bookworm! Reader (claimed)

When her boyfriend over hears her on the phone talking about how hot some of the scenes in her book are and how she wishes she was getting fucked like that her boyfriend can't help himself the next time she's reading.

Kinks involved - rough sex, oral

Frat boy! Lando X Sorority president! reader (Claimed)

Y/N and the president of her brother fraternity have been close since their first year joining the sorority and over the years they've had their moments but nothing to crazy, but after one drunk night that all changes.

Kinks involved - drunk/ high sex

Retired! sebastian x Young! driver (Claimed)

Y/N has always been a huge fan of (driver) and when he becomes her mentor her rookie season some questionable training builds between the two. Her reward and punishment system would have almost anyone else clutching their pearls but for Y/N it works.

Kinks involved - Dom/Sub, spanking, edging, multiple orgasms

Gabriel X Older! Reader (claimed)

Being Lando Norris's twin sister made for the most interesting childhood and now she's grown and working for Mclaren, but what happens when she catches the eye of one of the rookies.

Kinks involved - Quickies, sneaking around, caught in the act

Single Dad! Max X Nanny! reader (claimed)

When the newly divorced dad needs to have a full time live in nanny he goes on a long search to find the perfect person to take care of his twins.

Kinks involved - Age gap, low-key slow burn (Lots of plot with lots of porn)

CEO! Toto X Assistant! Reader (claimed)

Y/N is the new assistant to the rich and powerful CEO of Mercedes Racing. She's young but she knows how to do her job damn good. Her boss can't help but slightly fall in love with her.

Kinks involved - SOFTER SEX! Age gap, oral, breeding kink (LIKE HEAVY)

Nico X Ollie's Older Sister! Reader (claimed)

Daniel X (surprise) (I will announce this one once the materlist is created)

For the final fic it will be from my Paddock Bunny universe! It will be the whole grid x Y/N Brown! For this one send me in ideas or scenes you would want to see!

Biggest Fan - CL16

Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"

AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!

Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!

Charles insta stories over the fall break

Twitter

Charles instagram

Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others

charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser

user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there

user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!

youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!

user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam

user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!

carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?

user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!

load more comments

Your insta story

user12 how does it feel to be living my dream

carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him

youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him

user13 his eyes

charlesleclerc that's one lucky man

youruser he really is!

user14 I love the way you guys love each other

landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together

youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive

Twitter

your Instagram

Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others

youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!

Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!

charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise

user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me

charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N

landonorris Can I also know the surprise

charlesleclerc NO!

user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST

user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha

user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.

Your Insta Story

charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!

user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!

user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!

landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!

youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee

user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing

Twitter

Charles Insta story during the show

Max's Insta story during the show

Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!

maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again

Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)

Paddock Bunny Series - 2

AN - So, I know I've been MIA but Friday and Saturday I have off so I'm hoping I can get a lot done in those days! Once I get started on the requests I'm sure they'll start flowing a lot easier again! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send in SMAU, text AU, and Fluff requests because I am genuinely stuck right now with those.

Drivers Included:

Oscar Piastri x Lily Zneimer x reader (Lily on FT)

Charles Leclerc x reader

TW - Phone sex, oral (m and f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected sex

WC - 4.7K

Y/N POV

"Driver's room 15 minutes"

I see a text saying from Oscar making m

e smirk slightly. The Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix wrapped up about an hour ago and seeing Oscar moving through the garage before going into the media pen I knew he was upset with losing 2 places during the race.

While about half of the grid knows about what happened between Lando, Carlos and I, Charles has been the only new driver to be bold enough to invite me over until now.

Once the 15 minutes of socializing with some of the engineers is up I slowly make my way to where both the drivers rooms are. When Lando sees me in the hallways he sends me a quick smirk.

"Oscar actually listened to me?" Lando says when I pass him going to the door with 81 on the front.

"You suggested me to him?" I ask a little surprised not thinking Lando would be the one to start encouraging other drivers.

"Only him and only today. He was upset with his results. He needed a pick me up and I knew if I didn't encourage him he would absolutely never message you," Lando replies back making me laugh softly and shake my head.

"Stop talking about me like I can't do anything for myself," Oscar says while opening the door and looking at Lando.

Lando doesn't get another word in before Oscar's hand is wrapped around my wrist while he pulls me into his drivers room before closing the door and locking it so no one can disturb us.

"Oscar, I don't mean to kill the mood before it's even been set but what about Lily?" I ask softly. I knew he was in a long term relationship and I be damned if I'm the reason they split.

"She knows. I told her before I even texted you," Oscar replies back making a me cock my head to the side a bit surprised.

"She said you're my only pass, even joked that she wants to join next time. But if I'm honest I don't think it was a joke, I know she has a massive girl crush on you," Oscar says with a slight laugh falling from his lips but leaving me slightly shocked. It had never once been a secret that I was bi sexual but I thought one of the wags would even know who I was.

"Well, maybe if she really wants that maybe we could set it up," I say with a soft shrug of my shoulders before walking towards Oscar and softly placing my hands around his neck and pulling him closer making his breath hitch slightly.

"Fuck," Oscar gasps slightly when my words sink in making me smirk slightly.

"What do you want today?" I ask softly while looking up at him making him look down and stare at my lips before he crashes his down on mine making me moan out in shock.

I feel Oscar's hands trail down to my waist where he squeezes my hips slightly making me moan which he takes advantage of by slipping his tongue into my mouth letting me taste him.

I feel Oscar slowly moving up towards the small hard couch where he slowly sits down pulling me towards him and into his lap forcing me to straddle around his waist.

Oscar was still in his racing suit and with his hanging around his waist it wasn't hard to push them down enough to reach into his fireproofs and briefs to fetch out his already throbbing cock.

"Shit," Oscar hisses when my fingers firmly wrap around his cock and slowly start jerking him off. He was girthy as fuck and I knew it was gonna make me a few extra seconds to fully wrap my lips around my cock but I don't waist time getting onto my knees in front of Oscar.

"What are- fuck," Oscar starts talking but is quickly cut off when I take a slow lick from the base of his cock to his leaking tip before I slowly start wrapping my lips around his cock and try to relax my jaw enough to take more of his cock.

Once my mouth is as stuffed as I can get it I look up to find Oscar already staring down at me with wide eyes. I slowly start pulling off his cock making Oscar throw his head back with a moan.

"Sorry I can't take more," I admit softly once I've pulled back making Oscar look down at me with a stunned look.

"I don't give a fuck," Oscar says seriously before his hands are tangled in my hair once again pushing me towards his cock.

Once my lips are wrapped around his cock I start bobbing my head on his cock making a chorus of moans leave Oscar's mouth.

Learning different things about each of the boys might become my favorite thing.

Lando is more submissive even if he tries to be dominant. I know the truth and I'm determined to get him to let me dominate him so he realizes how good it can be.

Carlos is dominant like no ones business. He has a big cock and knows how to use it properly. So far he's the adventurous one loving to try different positions, different places, anything he can do to switch it us he'll try it.

Charles, well he's just a sweetheart. I've only been with him once and he was more about my pleasure than his.

And now little Oscar, the baby of the paddock, is noisy. From the moment his lips touched mine little gasps and moans have not stopped.

I could tell Oscar was getting close which has me speeding up my actions slightly which has Oscar's hands gripping my hair hards and pushing me down even more making me gag slightly.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Oscar groans trying to pull me off his cock to not cum in my mouth but I seal my lips around his tip and use my tongue to tease him.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," Oscar chants between breathless moans before I feel a jet of cum hit the back of my throat before another and another filling my mouth up to the brim making me swallow still while he's cumming.

By the time he was finished cumming he had filled my mouth with his cum once again making me swallow again.

So not only was Oscar vocal he was also a cummer. Like a lot of cum.

"I didn't think you would swallow otherwise I would've given a warning about how much I cum," Oscar tells me with a blush creeping up on his cheeks clearly slightly embarrassed.

"Oscar, that was the hottest thing ever! Please do not feel bad," I tells him softly while climbing back into his lap.

"Are you sure?" He asks while running his hands up and down my back softly. I just nod my head and place a soft kiss on his cheek making Oscar take my chin in one of his hands and softly pulling me down for a kiss.

"I wanna repay the favor," Oscar softly mumbles against my lips making me smile softly and nod.

As Oscar's lips start trailing down my neck I hear his phone go off making him throw his head back with a groan before reaching over to silence it before we both see Lily's bright smile lighting up on screen. I can tell her contact picture is older because of how young she looks but she's got the same wide smile.

"Answer it," I tell him softly starting to climb off his lap making him tighten his grip on my hip keeping me from getting up.

"Hey, love," Oscar smiles into the camera.

"Hi! Just wanted to see how it went with Y/N?" Lily asks with a clear giddiness in her voice, excited to hear about what happened.

"How about you ask her?" Oscar says back with a slight smirk playing on his lips and when the camera phone turns towards me I see the wide eyed look on her face clearly not expecting me to still be near.

"Hi Y/N! Um- well hi," Lily says making a small laugh fall from my lips. I could see how this whole situation would be strange for her. I mean I was in Italy sitting in her boyfriends lap while she's somewhere in the UK alone.

"Hi, well Lily, your Oscar has been amazing. Thank you for sharing," I tell her softly feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"Of course, I really hope I didn't interrupt anything, I was just too excited to wait any longer," Lily admits making me smile.

"If I knew you were this excited I would've made him Facetime you," I tell her softly while sending a teasing glance towards Oscar who has a satisfied look on his face.

"However I do think my job here is done, your man is tapped out," I giggle while flashing the camera back to Oscar.

"No, we in fact are not done and I am not tapped out," Oscar says quickly while sitting up and pulling me closer.

"Lily go get your vibrator," Oscar says while taking the phone from my hand. I feel the energy shift making me sit up a bit straighter. In a split second Oscar went from half asleep and ready for a nap to whatever is about to happen.

"Osc-" Lily says softly.

"Oscar, if she's not comfortable with this it's okay," I tell him making him shake his head.

"Lily, I know you wish you could be here right now so this is the best I can give you. Strip down and get your vibrator. I know you're fucking soaked already," Oscar tells her. I can hear her getting up out of bed and the sound of clothes hitting the floor before a drawer is opened and slowly closed shortly after.

"I'm gonna give Y/N the phone. You tell her if you want the camera facing her or me," Oscar tells her softly before handing me the phone. Lily had the phone angled just on her face so I can't see more than just her bare shoulders but knowing that she was completely bare was enough to be a complete turn on.

Before I get a chance to do anything Oscar is pulling the phone out of my hand again before he placing it on the couch so it can face the room before standing us up and pulling our bodies into the view.

Oscar slowly unzips my dress while the both of us stare into the camera where I see Lily's cheeks heat but regardless I hear the familiar sound of a vibrator being clicked on before I see a look of relaxation spread across Lily's face.

"Lily what are you doing?" Oscar asks sternly making Lily's eyes open again before she blushes and flips the camera making me gasp slightly as the slightly.

Lily's legs are spread open and while I can't see more than her bare pussy and vibrator clearly on her clit it was enough to make my knees weak.

"Lily, you're quite impatient today," Oscar smirks while slowly pushing my dress down revealing my tits to Lily making her gasp slightly.

"She's so pretty," I hear Lily mumble softly before flipping the camera back to her face showing the bright smile she has across her blushing face.

"She is isn't she," Oscar replies softly while running his fingers along my sides making a goosebumps spread across my skin.

"Lily that's all you," I reply softly before I feel Oscar slowly pulling my thong down my legs letting me step out of it before he discards it somewhere in the room.

Once I was stripped down Oscar pushes me towards the bed again making me grab the phone and wait for Oscar's next instruction.

"Go on, You know what to do," Oscar tells me while gesturing towards the couch making me sit down slowly before laying down and spreading my legs.

"Fuck, you're soaked," Oscar says while still standing but staring at my dripping core.

Once Oscar climbs onto the couch I flip the camera so Lily and can see what he's doing.

Once Lily's eyes open again I see her gasp at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend is in-between my thighs looking up at the camera before I feel his tongue on my clit making me moan and arch my back at how much I need this right now.

"Oscar," I moan using my free hand to grip into his hair.

I hear another click on through the phone letting me know she had turned the vibrator up higher.

"Fuck, Oscar I'm not gonna last long. I may have played a bit before I called," Lily admits before she flips the camera so I can see what's she's doing.

"Mm, show Y/N how wet you are and maybe I'll let you cum," Oscar says into the camera with a smirk before Lily moves around slightly before propping the phone on a pillow before spreading her thigh again. I let out a shocked gasp at the sight in front of me.

"Fuck, she's fucking soaked Oscar," I tell him softly making Oscar take the phone from my hand to catch a sight of his girlfriend before groaning.

"God you're fucking beautiful," Oscar tells her making me smile softly before Oscar angles the phone onto my body where Oscar shoves two fingers deep into my pussy making a me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, she's soaked too," Lily mumbles.

"Dildo or vibrator Lily?" Oscar asks little making Lily pick up the dildo and show the camera.

"Oscar, is that your dick?" I ask a bit stunned when I recognize the thick uncut cock making Oscar smirks down at me.

"You want one too?" Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh softly but it's cut off when Oscar starts finger fucking me harder making me whimper and moan at the intense feeling starting to spread across my body.

Oscar hands me the phone back to I can see Lily cumming but made sure I kept the phone angled on my pussy so she could see when I came.

"I want you guys cumming together," Oscar tells us sternly making Lily whimper clearly closer to the edge than me.

"Please, Y/N cum for Oscar," Lily says softly making a me whimper at her words before Oscar brings his free hand down to my clit where he starts teasing it.

"Fuck Oscar I'm gonna cum," I whimper making Oscar speed his actions up slightly before he starts counting down from 5.

"5"

"4"

"3" Oscar continues fingering me while both Lily and I's moans start growing in volume clearly getting far to close to the edge.

"Oscar I'm gonna cum," Lily whimpers.

"Fucking hold it! Be a good girl," Oscar tells her sternly.

"2" Oscar continues his counting.

"1, cum for me," Oscar tells us both instantly sending both Lily into a squirting orgasm with a load moan.

"Fuck Oscar!" Lily and I both moan the same thing making Oscar smirk slightly knowing he had just made two girls cum at the same time in completely different countries as each other.

"Fuck, Oscar she soaked the bed," I tell him softly while watching Lily ride her orgasm out before I see her slowly slip the dildo out of her pussy before he body went limp in relaxation.

"I mean you soaked the couch and me," Oscar replies back with a smirk making me look down and realize just how much I had cum too.

"Fuck that was good," Lily finally says something while showing her face on camera again.

"Give her aftercare and call me after please," Lily tells him softly making Oscar grab the phone and talk to her for a few seconds before he says his good byes and turns his attention back to me.

I was already back in my dress searching around the room for my panties.

"I have a shower," Oscar tells me while looking at my pleasure sliding down my thighs.

"It's okay, I just don't know where my thong is," I tell him softly making him smile and shrug his shoulder.

"Oscar don't be a weirdo give em back," I tell him while holding my hands out while he groans and reaches into his pocket and pulling them out.

"How did I miss that," I say while he helps me step into them. Once they're pulled up on my hip Oscar sends a teasing rub to my clit for a few seconds making me moan out softly. His actions stopped as quick as they started making me whimper at the loss of contact.

"That was mean," I mumble against his lips before kisses him.

"Just like making me give them back," he smirks back before placing another kiss on my lips.

Oscar pulls away and finds a shirt on the ground before approaching me again and wiping my thighs down.

"I can't make you shower but I refuse to send you back into the garage with your cum leaking down your thighs," Oscar tells me softly before standing up and looking at me.

"Go make sure Lily is okay, please. This is a weird situation for her, and I don't want to ruin a friendship with her over a heat of the moment situation," I tell him softly making Oscar laugh slightly.

"This was her idea. I had told her about the little group chat Lando had thrown me in this weekend and I explained the whole situation and she admitted that she thought it would be hot if I found a way to join," Oscar admits softly making a me laugh a little.

"So Lando was right in a way. You weren't gonna do this without some encouragement," I joke making Oscar groan but none the less nod his head in confirmation.

"Can we do this again sometime?" Oscar asks softly making me laugh a little and nod.

"Whenever you or Lily want. You don't have to put her in the big group chat but I'd love to have one with you, her and I if that was okay," I tell him softly making a bright smile spread across his face before he nods his head.

"I'll talk to her and we'll work something out," Oscar tells me before placing a soft kiss on my lips and walking me to the door where I slipped back into the garage after making sure the coast was clear.

It wasn't even 5 minutes later when I got a new text from Oscar saying hi. When I open the message I Oscar had thrown Lily and I into a group chat.

*image attached*

"Thank you for that!"

I read the message and look at the picture to notice her soft pink sheets covered in her orgasm the same way I had covered Oscar's race suit and couch.

It only a week later when a knock at the door sounds through my apartment. I'm currently on the phone with one of my best friends which has me quickly telling her good bye and I loved her before I made my way to the door and checked through the peephole before opening the door for Charles.

"How can I help you today," I ask with a sarcastic tone given that Charles had pushed his way through the door without an invite.

"Please, I'm so fucking stressed right now with Monaco this weekend I just need a release, please," Charles says in a hurried breath making a smile crack out on my face.

"No," I tell him with a straight face and a smirk.

"What! WHy not please! I really just need to get my mind off of this weekend for just an hour or so," Charles says getting increasingly more anxious.

"Charles, you need to focus on this weekend. These emotions are good. I refuse to be a distraction okay. If you win on Sunday you can come stroming into my apartment some time next week and I'll make sure to give a reward," I tell him softly while pulling him in for a hug and place a soft kiss on his cheek which turns slightly red under my touch.

"Y/N- you know what, the wait will be worth it and when I win Monaco I'm gonna have you cumming so fucking hard you can't think straight," Charles says with a final nod before pulling me back into his arms for a hug before he made his way back to the front door.

"Don't let anyone else touch you for the next week. I want you desperate," Charles says with a bright smirk on his face making me laugh and shake my head softly.

The second the front door of my apartment is closed behind Charles I receive a text when I check it I see that Charles had wasted no time in letting the rest of the boys know how off limits I was until he won Monaco.

It's Monday not even 10 in the morning when a loud knock rings through my apartment making me check to see who it was before opening the door to Charles.

"Get in your room, please, I can't wait a second longer to taste you," Charles says before I can even get a word in.

"Hey Charles, slow down. Congradulation," I say while closing the door before pulling Charles into me and placing a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. It took everything in me not to jump you at the club last night," Charles admits making me laugh and shake my head slightly.

Lando had made it his mission to piss Charles off the whole week when he declared me as off limits. While Lando respected Charles's wishes the same way everyone respected each other he made it a goal to rile Charles up as much as possible and last night in the Monaco club where we were celebrating Charles Lando had pulled me into his lap and made sure every feathered kiss along my jaw or neck was explicitly seen my Charles.

"You could've. I did say after you won Monaco I was all yours. Speaking of club, how the fuck are you awake right now. You were fucking plastered when I brought you and Alexandra up to your place," I tell him softly while he busies himself with placing soft kisses all along my jawline.

"I had good motivation," he tells me simply with a smirk.

Alex and Charles had a very open relationship. Like so open we all knew it was open before this little arrangement became a thing. I mean hell Alex and I had spent a few nights together long before Charles ever got the chance.

"Okay no more talking, your room now, please," Charles says sternly before adding in a sweet please.

I make my way into my room with Charles following closely behind and the second I'm in the room Charles is pulling my sleep shirt off a long with pulling my black leggings down my legs leaving me in my Ferrari red thong I put on when I woke up knowing there was a good chance today was when Charles would be knocking on my door.

"Fuck, I wish I could see you in red more," Charles groans when he sees the thong.

"Mmm I only wear red for Carlos," I say with a smirk knowing how Carlos getting his hands on me before Charles is the only thing Charles is 'jealous' about.

Charles just sends me a dirty look before sending down a harsh slap down on my ass making me whimper at the sting.

"Oh, so first it was Lando all week not knowing how to keep his hands to himself and now you want to go and say stupid things," Charles says with a smirk before picking me up and bringing me to my bed were he plops me down and instantly spreads my legs before sending a slap down on my pussy making a me jump and whimper at the sudden stinging sensations.

"I haven't even touched you and I can tell your soaked," Charles says down at me before moving my things to the side to find my pussy absolutely dripping for him.

"Fuck, so fucking gorgeous," Charles groans before leaning down and taking a small lick through my folds making me gasps when the tip of his tongue grazes my pussy.

"I'll be here for the next hour so you better make yourself comfortable," Charles mumbles into my pussy before he starts eating me out like there's no tomorrow.

It doesn't take long for Charles to bring me over the edge. After going a week without touching myself or any of the boys I was desperate and ready.

"Fuck, CHarles," I moan as I cum on his tongue. Charles makes no attempt at stopping, if anything he sped up his actions making me scream out slightly.

Another 3 orgasms later Charles is finally pulling his drenched face away from my overstimulated pussy clearly being serious about spending the next hours between my thighs because when I turn my head slightly I see the clock just after 11 in the morning.

"Color?" Charles asks while giving me a look of concern when he sees my blissed out state.

Once the group chat started to grow we all started setting ground rules, and almost instantly Carlos had implemented a safe word system as well as a hand signal in case I can't speak, knowing that while right now it was fairly Vanilla there would come a time it was in fact not vanilla and they all agreed that this was meant for my pleasure just as much as theirs.

"Green," I reply softly making Charles smile slightly up at me before he's stripping out of his clothes and grabbing a condom out of my night stand where he finds my vibrator making me look at it in horror and shake my head knowing what he was thinking.

We had also made an agreement that we will always use protection unless it was a private arrangement and conversation

"You mean you didn't touch yourself at all this last week?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, you weren't super clear so I just didn't touch at all," I tell him softly making him smirk before putting it back into the drawer and finally grabbing the condom before ripping it open and rolling it on his cock.

Once it was fully on he slowly slides in making both of us moan in contentment before he almost instantly starts thrusting into me no longer being able to restrain himself.

"Fuck, Charlie," I moan when he starts hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful taking me," Charles grunts softly while looking down at me making me moan at his praise.

Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind. 'Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind.

"Fuck," Charles grunts while throwing his head back before letting out a finally groan of pleasure before cumming with a final thrust sending me over the edge to the feeling of Charles filling the condom up.

"Charlie," I gasp out while he softly thrusts into me helping me ride out my orgasm.

Once we have both come down from our highs Charles slowly pulls his cock out of me before tying off and throwing the condom in the trash before coming back into the room from my bathroom with a warm towel he used to wipe me down softly before climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest.

"I'm gonna fall back to sleep," I mumble against his skin making Charles giggle softly.

"Okay, when Alex wakes up she's gonna grab us all lunch if that's okay," Charles tells me softly making a me nod against his chest before letting sleep consume my body.

Soft Hard Launch - CL16

Charles Leclec x Youtuber! Reader

Summary: After fans start speculating about the man in Y/N's vlogs Charles gives up on the soft launch entirely.

Yourinstagram

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc, and 894,093 others

yourinstagram I finally posted on Youtube! Check out the vlog, link in bio <3

user1 I can't believe mother has finally posted!

user2 Not Y/N posting a man in a vlog and on IG thinking we wouldn't say something

-> user3 no fr! like we see him! who is he?

user4 He better treat you right!

tarayummy we need to vlog together again soon! liked by creator

user5 Ariana! What are you doing here? (Charles)

-> user6 No cause I was thinking the same thing! What is a vroom vroom boy doing in her likes?

--> user7 hi! I'm a newer fan but who is Charles?

---> user6 Charles Leclerc! He's a Ferrari driver in Formula 1!

oliviarodrigo So beautiful!

Load more comments

Twitter

Texts between Charles and Reader

Ferrari Instagram

Liked by charlesleclerc, yourinstagram, and 2,906,680 others

scuderiaferrari We have Youtuber and Fashion Influencer Y/N L/N joining us this weekend in Ferrari!

user14 I feel like the one fan who shipped her and Charles might actually be onto something!

user15 Mother! I'm so happy to see my worlds colliding.

user16 back at it again with letting random influencers who knows nothing about the sport into the paddock

charlesleclerc I would make an amazing tour guide!

-> landonorris of course you would lover boy

user17 WE SAW THAT LANDO

-> user18 what happened?

--> user19 Lando replied to Charles comment saying "of course you would love boy"

Instagram Stories

charlesleclerc: you posted me

-> youruser: And Lewis!

user20: What are you doing in the paddock?

user20: I see you're posting your man

sabrinacarpenter: I wanna see the fit!

-> youruser: I'll text them to you soon! I'm waiting for the professional ones from when I was walking in!

user21: So it's Charles?

Charles Instagram

Liked by landonorris, yourinstagram, maxverstappen1, and 3,980,784 others

charlesleclerc Oh how the past year has been amazing. ti amo fino alla luna e ritorno

user27 omg "I love you to the moon and back"

user28 Oh he was tired of not being the one she was shipped with

user29 so officially parents

oliviarodrigo better be treating mother well!

-> charlesleclerc yes maam

user30 I can't believe mother is really with a vroom vroom boy

aurthurleclerc maman wants to know when she will be coming to the next family dinner

-> youruser You tell her I will be there whenever she wants me to be! I love her cooking

user31 I love that his family already knows her

Paddock Bunny Series - Introduction

AN - Hi! Here is the introduction to my new series I will be posting tomorrow! I kept the introduction nice and simple, not wanting to give too much away... The post should be fairly earlier in the day but I make no promises!

Everything will be written in the readers perspective

My name is Y/N Brown the daughter of Mclaren Racing CEO Zak Brown and have  grown up in Motorsports my whole life and when my dad became the CEO of Mclaren in 2018 when I was just 18 I started traveling with my dad year round as his assistant while I completed online University. Now I’m working in marketing for Mclaren and have become quite close with multiple drivers across the grid. After one drunk night and a silly bet I became the full time paddock bunny for the a select group of the boys and even some of their girlfriends.

Driver who will be commonly included!

Charles Leclerc Lando Norris Carlos Sainz Max Verstappen Alex Albon Oscar Piastri George Russell Lewis Hamilton Franco Colapinto 

Could I please place an order with Charles Leclerc! I would love a thick crust with red sauce. For toppings I would love basil, garlic, cilantro, spinach, broccoli, and roasted mushrooms! For my drink I would like sprite, root beer, diet coke, water, vodka redbull, and a mojito please! And yes to the dessert!

Thank you and super sorry for ordering a lot!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy with my cum" cilantro "Stop crying and fucking take it" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" roasted mushrooms "Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” sprite size kink root beer daddy kink diet coke recording kink water breeding kink vodka red bull squirting mojito loss of virginity dessert yes served by Charles Leclerc

Charles x virgin sugar baby! reader

TW - loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, size kink, belly bulge, creampie, MDNI 18+

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Charlie, can I talk to you?" I ask softly while walking into the room Charles was currently playing piano on.

"Of course, Miele," Charles responds while stopping his actions and giving me his full attention.

"So obviously we've had our little arrangement for the past 6 months and I haven't really been holding up my end of the bargain," I start softly making Charles laugh softly.

"Miele, you've done plenty to hold up your end of the bargain. Sure I haven't had sex with you yet but that was cause I feel wrong to take something as special as your virginity. But you've let me lay between those thighs for hours and I've fucked that pretty little face and you do a lot around the house that has nothing to do with sex, you do a lot ragazza stupenda," Charles says while lightly touching my thigh and then my face when he would mention that body part he was talking about.

"Well, I want you to take my virginity," I reply softly making Charles laugh and shake his head.

"You've been saying that, how about one more week of us talking about it seriously, and if you decide you still want to we will plan something good," Charles says leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," I respond softly before pulling Charles in for a kiss before getting up and disappearing into his bedroom to call it a night.

As the week passed Charles and I had a few conversations about him taking my virginity all ending with the same result, Charles telling me soon.

"Miele, can you come to my room?" I here Charles asks while I'm finishing us the dishes from dinner.

"Yes, Charles?" I ask softly while walking towards him.

"Are you 100% sure you want it to be me?" Charles ask making me smile and nod.

"Yes! Virginity has always been a silly concept to me and while I've held onto it for so long it wasn't because I wanted to keep it or anything I just haven't been with someone I trusted to have sex with let alone take my virginity," I tell him softly as I climb into his lap feeling his arms wrap around my waist.

"I want you to be sure this is something you're ready for," Charles tells me softly making me smile.

"Charles, I mean this in the most serious way possible despite my lewd language but you've had your tongue shoved deep into my pussy for hours, I think I'm ready to feel you," I tell him softly watch his face turn a soft red color at my words.

"Why are you so nervous?" I ask softly while grinding down on his hardening cock.

"Fuck, just don't want you to regret anything! Can't lose you because you felt like I rushed you into something you weren't ready for," Charles tells me softly making me smile and pull him in for a kiss.

"Charles I never would have brought it up if I didn't trust you to be my first, now please for the love of God take your fucking clothes off and fuck me," I tell him while pulling him in for a heated make out. While I may be a virgin Charles knew I always knew what I wanted and was very vocal about it so when I told him to fuck me that's exactly what he's gonna do.

"Fuck, you were made just for me huh?" Charles groans while slipping my shirt off my body before flipping us over so he was now hoovering above me.

"Charlie," I moan when I feel him slipping my shorts and panties off my body before instantly diving in and eating me out.

"Fuck, so good," I cry at the feeling of his lips sucking my clit into his mouth.

I feel Charles slowly slip 2 fingers into my pussy making me moan at the slight stretch I was feeling.

"Fuck," I moan when I feel Charles start to finger me before he find my G-spot and sends me into an almost instant orgasm.

"Fuck, look so pretty cumming for me," Charles grunts while helping me ride out my loud orgasm before he slowly slips his fingers from my pussy and quickly strip himself from his clothes before climbing back into bed while pumping his hard cock.

"Fuck, I know you're big but knowing it's about to go in me makes it seem massive," I say softly while staring at his hard cock.

"We'll make it fit," Charles grunts while teasing my clit with the tip of his cock before he slowly slips his cock into my pussy making me whimper at the feeling of his stretching me out.

"Fuck, Charlie so big," I cry when I feel him start to push into more and more.

"Fucking hell, so fucking tight," Charles grunts clearly trying to hold back from just slamming straight into me.

It takes Charles slowly pushing in for about a minute before I felt his balls touch my ass letting me know he was fully seated in me.

"Fuck Charles," I cry out when he slowly starts rocking his hips trying to stretch me out a bit.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock." Charles grunts when he finally pulls his cock almost all the way out of my pussy before shoving it back into my pussy making me whimper at being filled up once again.

"Fuck Charles," I moan when Charles slowly starts to pick up his pace.

"Fuck, so fucking tight," Charles grunts speeding his thrusts up once again making me scream out at the intense pleasure coursing through my body.

"Too much," I cry out when the pleasure starts to become to much for me to handle not being used to having my pussy so full.

"Stop crying and fucking take it," Charles grunts throwing all gentleness out the window and absolutely fucking into me.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else," Charles adds making me whimper when I feel my orgasm starting to build again.

"Fuck cum for me," Charles grunts bringing his fingers down to my clit and making me start cumming all over Charles cock.

"Oh god," I cry out while Charles continues to fuck me even once my orgasm has ended.

"Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Charles grunts making me open my eyes and look down to the small bulge made my Charles's cock that continues to fuck in and out of me.

"Fuck, Charlie so big," I moan bringing my hands down to softly rest against the continuously reappearing bulge.

"Press down," Charles grunts out while still playing with my clit. I listened to him and noticed how much more intense everything became.

"Fuck, I'm fucking cumming," Charles's voice roars out while sending one final thrust deep into my pussy before unleashing a massive load painting my gummy walls with his hot cum sending me into another small orgasm.

"Fuck," Charles grunts while slowly slipping out of my pussy letting some of his cum leak from me.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Charles softly says while watching some of his cum leak from my gaping pussy.

After getting a good look at my leaking pussy Charles climbs out of the bed and grabs a discarded shirt before softly cleaning me up and climbing back into bed.

"Thank you," I tell Charles softly while leaning up and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

"No, thank you for trusting me to be your first," Charles replies back while pulling me back in for a kiss.

Kinktober Day 10 - Creampie - CL16

Charles Leclerc X Reader

TW - first-time unprotected sex, creampie, sweet sex, cum eating, pussy eating

WC 900+

Y/N POV

Spending the day with Charles in Monaco is one of my favorite things right now. Thankfully Charles with Charles having a week off from racing we were able to spend the whole day together just enjoying each other's company. Starting a new relationship in the middle of an F1 season can be quite taxing but thankfully Charles and I have found a good system to make sure to prioritize each other when we both have free time.

What started out as an innocent day but by the end of the day it resulted in me on my back with my leg spread wide open for Charles and his ruthless mouth.

"Baby, please I need more," I whine to Charles who is currently face-deep in my soaked pussy.

"We can't Amore, we don't have any more protection," Charles mumbles pulling in face up so we can make eye contact.

"I don't care, please Charlie," I whispers to him nervous to see how he feels about going without any protection for the first time. I can tell it peaks his interest cause his head instantly pops up.

"Baby, we can't. I want to but we can't afford a mini us right now," Charles replies back making me smile softly at him. We had only been together a few months which is why we couldn't "afford" a kid right now and it's also why he had no idea I was on any birth control.

"Amour, I've been on birth control for years," I giggle a little making Charles's ear flash red showing his embarrassment.

"I didn't know," he admits sheepishly making me pull him by the face up to me so I could give him a kiss.

"It wasn't something you had ever mentioned before and I liked having the added protection but right now I need you," I say against his lips while grinding against him to express my desperation.

With both of our full consent, Charles wastes no time crashing his lips back on mine, making me moan at the taste of my essence and his saliva mixing together.

"Fuck," Charles says when he starts gliding the tip of his unprotected cock against my clit for the first time. I instantly start grinding my hip trying to gain more friction.

"So wet for me," Charles mumbles against my lips before playing one final kiss on my lips before slowly starting to slip his thick member into my pussy. The both of us instantly start letting out gasps and whimpers at the new sensations.

"Oh fuck," Charles groans when he bottoms out in me. When I look down I see a slight bulge where Charles is making me realize just how much he was stretching me out.

"It feels so good," I whimpers out when Charles starts thrusting his hips into me. For the first time I was feeling all of Charles sliding into me. The vein that I love running my tongue against when I suck him off is adding a new sensational texture rubbing against my walls.

"I've never realized how soaked you get baby," Charles gasps out being able to feel my all of pussy stretching around his member for the first time.

"Amore, faster," I moan trying to spur his actions on. It works cause I feel Charles's pace starts to pick up making my legs start to shake.

"So good," I gasp out when Charles starts hitting my G-spot at the perfect pace and pressure.

"Fuck," Charles moans. I can tell he is getting closer simply by the way his thrusts are starting to become a little more irregular than previously.

"I'm gonna cum," I gasp wanting to cum with Charles but not knowing how much more I can hold off.

"I'm almost there," Charles grits through clenched teeth bringing his pace up a bit faster.

I can tell Charles is on the edge but I can't hold off any longer, "I'm cumming," I moan just before falling over the edge and cumming all over Charles's cock. The way my pussy was clenching must have sent Charles over the edge can with one final rough thrust he starts spilling cum deep into my pussy filling me up for the first time.

"Fuck," I mewl at the new sensation spreading through out my body.

"Fuck, I was gonna pull out," Charles gasps trying to catch his breath from his intense orgasm.

"I didn't want you to," I giggle a bit pulling Charles down on top of me so we can cuddle. Once we both come down from our highs Charles sits back up and slowly starts pulling his cock out watching his cum start to leak from my tight hole.

"Fuck, I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy," Charles whispers making me blush at his lewd words.

I can feel it leaking from my pussy so I bring my fingers down to my hole collecting some of his cum on my fingers before bringing it to my lips allowing me to taste our cum that's been mixed together.

"Fuck, that was hot," Charles mumbles softly before crawling out of bed to grab a cloth to clean up the rest of our mess that is still leaking from my pussy.

Once we were both cleaned up Charles crawled back into bed pulling me into his chest allowing me to settle in and fall asleep listening to his heart rate.

Kinktober Day 2 - Overstimualtion - CL16

Charles Leclerc X Reader

TW

WC - 1200+

Y/N POV

Laying in bed I hear the front door of my shared apartment door open. Making me sit up a little knowing I was supposed to be alone for another night before Charles was due home.

It doesn't take long before Charles appears in the front door of our bedroom which has me getting up and rushing towards him. After not seeing him for a few weeks I can barely believe he's finally home.

Due to the busy schedule both of us have had we haven't been able to see each other since he left for a triple header.

"You're early," I whisper into his neck which makes him chuckle a little.

"I wanted to surprise you! Max offered to leave a day early knowing how much I had missed you," Charles explains making me smile.

I lean up and place a few kisses on Charles's soft lips before pulling back and smiling at him.

"I've missed you so much," I tell him with a smile.

"I've missed you too," Charles tells me before kissing me again.

It doesn't take either of us very long before our clothes are scattered around the room with me in the center of the bed and Charles on top making out with me.

"Please, cha," I whine out looking for any kind of stimulation possible.

"What do you want cherie?" Charles questions while pulling back slightly and watching me attempt to grind into his hard cock.

"Touch me," I whisper out making him smirk at me. Charles slowly starts trailing his mouth down my jaw and neck before settling on my tits and playing with my nipples.

Charles knows how sensitive my nipples can be when I'm worked up so it was no surprise when I started grinding into him harder knowing I was chasing an orgasm almost entirely built from my nipple stimulation.

"Cha I might cum," I warn out which has him sucking and pinching my nipple a bit harder.

"Oh, fuck," I moan out before allowing myself to fall over the edge for the first time since he left weeks ago.

I start shaking lightly while Charles slowly makes his way down to my soaked pussy knowing I was nowhere near done cumming for him.

He instantly starts diving into my sopping pussy making me moan out. While the orgasm was nowhere near the most powerful orgasm I have ever had I'm starting to get the early signs of overstimulation but instead of the twinge of pain I normally felt all I felt was pure pleasure when Charles sank two fingers into my dripping hole.

"Fuck Charles," I moan out when he instantly hits my G spot.

Charles switches between licking my swollen clit and pulling it into his mouth to suck on it. Whatever action he is doing on my clit never once slows down the movements of his fingers shoved into my pussy.

"Charles, shit, of fuck," I moan out cumming before I can give any form of warning. Charles helps me ride out my second orgasm of the night, but never once stops even when my orgasm is over. I'm starting to feel the overstimulation which has me wiggling to get out of his grip but he never once lets up on my pussy.

Thankfully it doesn't take long for the slight pain to turn into pure pleasure all over again. My third orgasm hits me like a train out of nowhere leaving me a shaking mess while Charles lets off on my clit but continues to fuck me hard with his fingers.

"Charles fuck, something," I whine at the new type of pleasure starting to build deep in my stomach. I can't even finish my sentence before Im cumming all over Charles's face. When I look down I notice Charles's face is covered in my juices which has my face growing red in embarrassment.

"Fuck, sorry Charles," I gasp out in shock. I had never once squirted before which had me thinking it wasn't real.

"Don't apologize, that was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed," Charles replies back before digging back into my pussy like it was his last meal was ever going to eat.

"Charles, I can't," I whine out from the over whelming stimulation I was currently experiencing.

One of Charles's favorite things has always been overstimulating me especially when we are apart from each other. However, I have never felt this level of stimulation before.

"Too much," I whine out when I feel another orgasm start to build.

"Give me another," Charles mumbles out into my pussy and if I wasn't so hyper focused on him I probably wouldn't have been able to make out what he was saying.

It doesn't take me long before I'm cumming all over Charles's face again. While I didn't squirt this time the orgasm was one of the most overwhelming feelings I had ever experienced.

"Amour, no more please," I beg out which has Charles chucking a little before he licks from my dripping hole to my over worked clit which has me twitching at the feeling and whining to hope that Charles will give me a break.

"Can you give me one more?" Charles asks while pulling himself back up so we are face to face. I'm still coming down from my last orgasm that I can barely process what Charles is asking of me.

"Yeah," I whisper out softly not trusting my voice at the moment.

Charles instantly leans down and starts making out with me allowing me to taste all of my juices that are on his lips, making me moan softly.

"You're as sweet as ever, Cherie," Charles mumbles against my lips.

I start to feel Charles tease my clit with his tip which has me whining from the overstimulation I was still feeling. Once Charles finally sinks his cock into my still-soaked hole I gasp out at the feeling of being full for the first time in awhile.

"Feel so good," I tell Charles encouraging him to speed up his actions.

"So tight. Have you touched yourself at all while I've been gone?" Charles groans out through clenched teeth.

It was an unspoken understanding that I never touched myself while Charles was gone because it never felt half as good when I did it myself.

I shake my head no which has Charles speeding up his actions to a brutal pace, making it clear that Charles also had some pent-up frustrations he was finally letting out.

"You're gonna cum with me," Charles tells me sternly while still fucking me and reaching his hand between us and playing with my stiff and sensitive clit which has me almost instantly cumming all over Charles's dick which then triggers Charles to start cumming deep into my pussy.

"Fuck," Charles moans out while still buried deep in me.

Once both of us have finally come down from our strong orgasms Charles is slowly climbing out of the bed to grab a rag and clean up the mess the both of us have made.

Once we are both cleaned up Charles picks me up bridal style and carries me into our guest room.

"I'll clean the mess tomorrow," Charles lets me know when he climbs into bed and pulls me against his chest where we both fall asleep almost instantly.

Charles Leclerc + Sicilian Crust + Red Sauce + Broccoli + Shallots + Diet Pepsi + Red bull 🙏🏻🤩

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian crust dating red sauce rough sex broccoli "Made just for me huh?" shallots "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you" diet pepsi biting red bull hickeys dessert no served by Charles Leclerc

AN - Okay so for today I'm gonna be focusing on shorter requests so the next few posts from me will probably be less than 1,000 words!

TW - VERY short and sweet! unprotected sex, hickeys, biting, creampie

WC 450+

Y/N POV

"Made just for me huh?" Charles questions with a smirk as he has slid completely into my pussy giving me no time to adjust given I no longer need him to. Over the past several years of Charles and I dating he has managed to stretch me out perfectly to take all of his cock.

"Charlie, s'good," I moan when he starts thrusting his cock deep into my soaked pussy.

"God, I love the way you clench around me," Charles groans speeding his actions up slightly.

While Charles continues to fuck into my pussy he leans down and starts placing soft kisses along my collarbones before I feel his teeth start to nip at my skin. The nips started out soft not leaving a mark behind but as Charles got more into the moment the nips turned more aggressive as Charles started full-on biting my skin making me moan.

"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Charles's teeth sink into a particularly sensitive part of my skin.

"More," I gasped when Charles pulled away slightly.

Charles listened to my request and brought his mouth back down to my neck where he moved his focus from bite marks to leaving little hickeys along my pale skin.

"Fuck," I gasp when Charles sucks a hickey into the sweet spot under my ear.

"Charles, I'm gonna cum," I moan out when I feel Charles's thrusting pick up in pace.

Charles's mouth never once leaves my neck but he does move his hand between our bodies and starts teasing my clit helping me over the edge and into a powerful orgasm.

"Oh fuck," I scream out as he continues to tease my clit helping me ride my powerful orgasm out.

"I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you," Charles grunts and he leans back to take in my neck which is now littered with bite marks and hickeys.

"Fuck," Charles moans while his hips lose rhythm slightly before he sends one last harsh thrust deep into my pussy and fills me up with his cum.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this Amour," Charles grunts as he slowly slips out of my pussy letting his cum leak out of me.

"So good Charles," I gasp as he falls into bed right next to me. Charles pulled me in for a little cuddle before the both of us had to get out of bed and actually get ready for the dinner we had with some friends.

"Charles, now how am I gonna cover this shit," I ask loudly when I look into the mirror and skin my entire neck scattered with little love bites.

"You don't," Charles said with a smirk making my face fall into a disgusted look just thinking about his friends seeing this.

"I am," I reply softly placing a kiss on his lips before turning back to the bathroom mirror.

Can I order from Charles Leclerc

A deep dish pizza with Alfredo sauce.

Toppings of shrimp and turkey sausage.

Drink of Dr.Pepper

Dessert please!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

deep dish teammates to lovers alfredo sweet sex shrimp "I'll be gentle" turkey sausage "Only the best for my girl" dr pepper dirty talk dessert yes served by Charles Leclerc

Charles x injured teammate! reader

TW - Sweet slow sex, mention of crash but no details, injured reader, sweet Charles, more plot than porn

WC 1300+

Y/N POV

"Charlie, I'm okay. Go check on Ollie and make sure he doesn't have any questions. Matter a fact, I'll go talk to him, he's in my car," I tell Charles softly while standing up and making my way out of Charles's driver's room.

"Baby, please just sit down," Charles begs hating to see me struggling to walk due to the pain my crash last week in Baku caused.

"I'm fine love. It's not the worst crash I've ever been in. I'll be back to racing when we get to Austin," I tell Charles softly while kissing his lips and slowly making my way out of the room and into the busy garage where I quickly spot Ollie near my car getting a basic fun down of it since there had been some upgrades since the last time he drove it when I was in the hospital getting my appendix out.

"Well hello," Ollie says brightly when he spots me approaching him. He quickly pulls me in for a soft hug making sure not to hug me too hard knowing I had a couple fractured ribs.

"Hi, just wanted to make sure you didn't have any questions," I tell him softly.

"No I think everything will be okay. I'll take good care of her for you," Ollie tells me softly while tapping the halo of my car. I just smile and nod before placing my hand on my car getting emotional for missing another race.

"You'll be back before we know it," Ollie tells me when he sees the emotions in my eyes.

"Just weird, havent missed a race in years and then boom, I miss two in one season," I explain making Ollie nod his head.

"Don't get me wrong I'm more than happy that it's you taking over my car, but it's hard not getting the season I expected," I tell Ollie making him nod and pull me in for another soft hug.

"I would much rather be in this car under different circumstances but I am excited to be able to race in Singapore," Ollie tells me with his bright smile. I just laugh with him and nod.

"Truthfully, I'm happy to be skipping out on this one but don't tell anyone," I tell him while jokingly putting a finger to my lips like it was some kind of secret.

"Just make sure to stay focused and do your best to not think too much about how hot it is," I tell Ollie before walking back to Charles who was waiting by the door of his drivers room.

"Telling Ollie secrets now," Charles says with a joking smirk making me laugh out lightly.

I shrug my shoulders not sharing what I was telling Ollie.

When we got back into Charles's drivers room I pull him in for a kiss needing him.

"Baby, you're hurt," Charles groans pulling away still scared to hurt me.

"Baby you haven't touched me in a week, please," I beg. I could see the confliction in Charles's eyes clearly not convinced that he won't hurt me.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally, please," I beg getting ready to get on my knees for Charles but he's quickly pulling me up to my feet fully and slowly bringing us to the little bed where he pushes up the red sundress I was wearing.

He quickly pulls my thong off my body where he softly starts teasing my pussy with his tongue.

"So wet already," Charles groans.

"Been needing you," I whine out when I feel Charles sucking on my clit. We both know neither of us would last long given not fucking for almost a week.

"I'll be gentle," Charles says softly clearly talking more to himself than me but it still made me smile while I watched him pull his fireproofs down to pool at his ankles.

"Please, we don't have much time before free practice 1," I beg out needing Charles to speed up a bit. I watch Charles stroke his cock a few times making sure it was fully hard before he softly places the tip of his cock into my pussy and slips in.

"Oh fuck," I gasp quietly while feeling Charles pushing into my pussy.

"So tight baby," Charles groans while starting to thrust his hips into mine.

"You always take me so well," Charles adds softly making me gasp as all my senses are becoming overwhelmed.

"Oh God," I moan loudly finally adjusting to his size and fully enjoying the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Baby, I'm not gonna last," Charles whines out making me smile softly while looking at him and clenching my pussy tightly around his cock just to watch his eyes roll back.

"Baby," Charles whines, but still speeds up his thrusting knowing I was getting close too.

I reach a hand between us and start teasing my clit making me whine at the feeling.

"Oh fuck," I gasp when Charles starts hitting my G-spot in quick but gentle thrusts.

"Baby please," I beg needing Charles to cum with me.

"Let go, baby," Charles tells me softly making me start to cum all over Charles's cock. I could tell Charles could feel the way my pussy was pulsing around his cock because his thrusts stutter slightly before he starts cumming deep into my pussy making me whine when I feel his cum filling my pussy.

When Charles slips from my pussy he quickly pulls his briefs back up along with his fireproofs before he softly helps me sit up and pulls me dress back down before he pulls me into his chest and just holding me while we stand there.

"Thank you, I really did need that," I tell Charles with a soft laugh falling from my lips.

"Only the best for my girl," Charles replies back softly making me smile.

"Can you find a towel please, I can feel you cum leaking down my thighs," I tell Charles softly making me laugh lightly before he pulls away and finds a small towel he uses to clean my thighs up and making sure to clean the cum from my pussy making me gasp when the rough towel grazes my sensitive clit.

"Sorry baby," Charles mumbles softly while placing a soft kiss on my tummy before finding my panties that he discarded and helping me step into them.

"I love you, Charlie," I tell him with a bright smile on my face making Charles pull me in for a kiss.

"I love you too, sweet girl," Charles replies before he slowly leads us to the door of his driver's room so he can bring me to the pit wall where I will be sitting for the weekend.

Once I'm sat next to Fred Charles makes sure I'm comfortable before heading back to his car where he gets in and ready.

"You two are my favorite to watch fall in love," Fred tells me softly making me smile and slightly tear up.

"Don't get all sappy on me, Fred," I say with a joking smile.

"I'm serious. When you guys told me you were dating I was so worried but truthfully it has only strengthened your relationship on track," Fred tells me making me smile again.

"He's the best," is all I say before putting on my headphones and listening in on the boys doing their radio check.

"Is she comfortable, if she wants she can go into my driver's room," I hear Charles talking to his engineer.

I watch as Fred hits my radio button letting me know I'm expected to talk to him.

"I'm fine, just stay focused. I love you and if I need to I will go back to your driver's room," I reply back making the whole pit wall smile just from how in love the young couple was.

"I love you," Is all Charles says before I watch him drive out of the garage and get in line to get on track.

Hi! Can I please make an order of a pizza with sicilian crust and red sauce with salami, roasted peppers, gouda cheese, Canadian bacon, kielbasa and kalee for toppings. I would also like a wine and a coke for drinks and no dessert for Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. Thank you so much

(I think I went a bit wild there. Hope that's okay. Also I sent a similar request previously so if you got both I am sorry there was a glitch on my side.)

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian crust dating red sauce rough sex salami "Such a little cum slut" roasted peppers "Such a good whore" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” canadian bacon "Do you need an attitude adjustment" kielbasa "A preschooler is better behaved than you are" kale "I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" wine free use kink coke spanking served by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc

TW - multiple orgasms, rough sex, dom Charles, dom Max, rough sex, cum swallowing, spanking, creampie, unprotected sex, face fucking, spit roasting

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"Well hello, schat," Max says while circling behind me in the kitchen and lifting my long shirt up exposing my bare ass to him where he sends down a harsh slap on my ass making me whine at the sharp pain.

"You gonna be good for us today?" Max asks making me look back at him with hooded eyes.

"Probably not, you always fuck me the best when I misbehave," I reply back with a smirk making him slap my ass 5 times in quick succession giving me no time to breathe until the quick assault is over.

"Asshole," I mumble not loud enough for Max to hear which resulted in him slapping my ass again.

"Speak up," He said slapping my ass once again.

"I said you're an asshole," I mumble loud enough for him to hear this time.

"A preschooler is better behaved than you are," Max said slapping my ass once again making me whimper at the sting.

"I'll be good," I finally break after being spanked enough to leave my ass red for the next few hours.

"You better, Charlie will be home in an hour and he wants to come home to a good girl now a fucking brat," Max whispered into my ear sending one last warning spank on my ass.

The next hour was filled with me making dinner and meal prepping for the boys for the next week they would be spending at home catching up on relaxation before we headed on a holiday during the month-long break we had until Austin.

Once Charles comes into the apartment he finds Max and I cuddling on the couch. With the way that I was laying on Max's chest, my shirt had ridden up my back slightly exposing the red ass I had been supporting since Max found me in the kitchen.

"I see you had a brat on your hands," Charles says to Max while lightly rubbing my ass before sending his own slap down on it making me whimper and bury my face into Max's chest making me chuckle at my attempt to hide.

"Just her usual attitude," Max said while stroking my back softly.

Charles finally leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips before placing a kiss on Max's lips.

"Dinner will be ready in 2 hours," I tell Charles softly making him smile.

"Okay, both of you in the bedroom, now," Charles says to Max and I making Max sit up and carry me into our shared room where he roughly dropped me on the bed making me bounce and hitting my head softly on the headboard.

"Be careful, gonna give me a fucking concussion," I snap rubbing the spot in the back of my head where Max had accidentally dropped me too close to the headboard.

"I'm sor-" Max started but was quickly cut off by Charles.

"Do you need an attitude adjustment?" Charles snaps while slapping my inner thigh making me whimper at his aggression.

"He's the one who dropped me-" I tried arguing back but was cut off by Charles flipping me onto my stomach and laying down some brutal spanks.

I could tell Max and Charles were taking turns in slapping my ass simply by the way the force switches up every few seconds.

The ass beating lasts another few seconds leaving me a whimpering mess under my two boyfriends. But finally, I feel Charles roughly ripping my panties off my body before he shoves his fingers deep into my pussy finding just how much I was enjoying it.

"Such a good whore. Already soaked and ready for us to use her," Charles says while teasing my clit with his thumb while still having two of his fingers buried deep into me.

"So damn needy," Max whispers against my ear making me whimper before feeling another slap ring out in the room before my brain processes that he had roughly slapped my ass again.

"She fucking loves that, clenching so tight every time you hit her," Charles said with a smirk in his voice. Charles and Max loved talking about me as if I wasn't in the room, and truthfully I loved feeling like I was just a toy for them to use whenever they pleased.

Suddenly I lose all stimulation which makes me turn slightly to see both of my boyfriends stripping down leaving both of their hard cocks to swing slightly between their legs as they climb back into bed making Charles sit right in front of me squeezing into the little space between me and the headboard. His back was resting against the headboard while he roughly takes my hair into a makeshift ponytail and forces my face onto his cock and taking him deep into his mouth making me gag roughly.

I whimper around his cock from how roughly he was abusing my mouth, but the whimper quickly turns into a scream when Max slips into my pussy without giving me much of a break to adjust to his size.

I was being used in a spit roast quickly becoming overwhelmed with all of the pleasure coursing through my body.

When Charles pushes my head down and holds me there while gagging around his cock I can hear Max groaning.

"Fuck, keep gagging her, she clenches so good," Max hissed making Charles start to face fucking me again making sure to hit my gag reflexes every time.

I could feel my spit start to roll down my chin while tears were pouring out of my eyes.

When Charles finally pulled my head up for some air I took a deep breath before whimpering out a weak "Faster, please."

This had Max speeding up his thrusting while Charles and fucking me back onto his cock again. I was whimpering around Charles's cock while Max continued to brutally fuck into my pussy hitting my cervix as he goes.

I was quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure coursing through my body but I could feel my orgasm approaching making me lift my head from Charles's cock and scream out as I start cumming all over Max's cock making Max groan and keep fucking into me quickly overstimulating me.

"Please, slow down," I whimper before Charles is forcing me back onto his cock to shut me up.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Max teases still keeping up the pace that will surely leave me sore in the morning.

I feel Charles bury his cock deep into my throat holding me on his cock while I gag before I feel him tense under me and start releasing a large load down my throat. I was still gagging around his cock which made some of his cum spray out between my lips making some of his cum splatter against his pubic area that was shaved clean. I could tell some of it was leaking down my chin as well before Charles pulls his cock out letting me swallow the majority of his load before he's pushing my head down and told me to clean the mess I made.

I make quick work of licking up the splattered cum leaving Charles's cock and pubic area wet with my spit.

"Such a little cum slut," Charles says while watching me lick up all of his cum.

I could feel myself starting to clench around Max's cock letting me know that I was getting closer to cumming all over his cock again.

"Cum with me," Max groans out when he feels me starting to tense. I could feel Max send one last rough thrust deep into my pussy where he starts unleashing a large load making me whimper out before I start cumming all over his cock while shaking. I could barely stay up on my knees which had Max holding my hips up while he started rocking his hips making sure to ride our orgasms out and prolonging mine.

"I love knowing I ruined you so good you can only cum when I make you" Max groans when he finally slips his soaked cock from my pussy making me whimper at the loss of being full.

"Thank you," I gasp out while pulling myself into Charles's chest feeling his arms wrap around me and place a soft kiss on my forehead.

Max was the one who cock up and started cleaning off his two loves before falling into the bed next to us and pulling us in for a three-way cuddle.

Can I place an order with Charles Leclerc

A cauliflower crust with Alfredo sauce

Toppings- oregano, shallots, chicken, buratta, shrimp, and turkey sausage

Drinks- Slushie, Beer, white claw, lemonade and dr. Pepper.

Dessert please!!!!

Im sorry it’s a lot but seeing a lot of red sauce and craving some sweetness

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower sunshine x grumpy alfredo sweet sex oregano "Please, let me cum in you" shallots "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you" chicken "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" burrata "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another" shrimp "I'll be gentle" turkey sausage "Only the best for my girl" slushie safe word used beer edging white claw crying lemonade body worship dr pepper dirty talk dessert yes served by Charles Leclerc

Charles x gf! reader

TW - Use of safe word, multiple orgasms, crying mentioned, hickeys, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"I'm gonna cum," I moan out for the fourth time making Charles pull his mouth away from my clit making me whine again.

"Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" Charles said with a smirk making me groan and throw my head back again.

"I need to cum please Charlie," I beg the best I can while catching my breath still.

"You wanna cum?" Charles asked with a smirk on his face making me nod my head aggressively in desperate need of a release that has been denied for far too long.

When Charles gets back to my pussy he starts attacking my sensitive clit with his tongue bringing me to the edge again.

"Can I cum please?" I ask making Charles nod his head making me instantly fall over the edge into a shaking orgasm.

After riding out my orgasm Charles doesn't pull away but rather shoves two fingers into my pussy and starts finger fucking me with the intention of bringing me to another quick orgasm.

"Charlie, slow down," I whine when I feel the strong orgasm start to approach again. Charles doesn't slow down which brings me to another shaking orgasm scream at the overstimulation.

I'm already thrashing my hips trying to get away but Charles is far stronger than me so he continues with his fast fingers but gives my clit a bit of a break because he starts kissing my shaking inner thighs trying to bring me back to earth.

"Doing so good for me," Charles mumbles before he starts softly licking my overstimulated clit making me cry out.

"It's a lot," I mumble through labored breathing trying to gather myself but then Charles is sucking my clit into his mouth bringing me to the edge again.

"Charlie, I'm gonna cum," I scream through tears still trying to get away as my clit is getting far too overstimulated.

When Charles hits my G-spot just right I fly into another orgasm making me scream at the painfully pleasurable orgasm.

How many was that? three... I think you can give me another" Charles says with a smirk making me start to panic on the inside slightly but trying to relax my body to prepare myself for another orgasm.

Charles give me a bit of a break leaving my pussy alone but keeping his mouth busy by placing soft kisses against my thighs and lower tummy.

When Charles slowly brings his mouth back to my clit my body unintentionally tenses up still far to sensitive to be completely enjoyable.

"Charlie," I whine slightly wiggling my hips but it's not until Charles and slipping his fingers into my pussy that I realize I truly can't handle it anymore.

I try my best to continue going knowing Charles is enjoying himself but then he starts hitting my G-spot with every thrust making me start crying softly again.

I can feel my orgasm approaching and it's anything but pleasurable which has me thrashing my hips trying to get away but Charles holds my hips down trying to bring me to my fourth orgasm that he can feel is approaching.

"PINEAPPLE!" I finally scream out making Charles instantly pull his mouth away from my pussy before softly pulling his fingers out not wanting to hurt me any further. I end up breaking down in tears turning on my side and pulling my knees up to my chest into a little ball before I feel Charles shuffling up the bed to face me.

"Mon amour, I'm so fucking sorry," Charles says when he sees my face. When I look at him his mouth is still wet and swollen but his eyes are now full of regret instead of the lust that was there moments ago.

"It's okay," I rasp out since I was starting to lose my voice from screaming.

"No! I should've listened," Charles says clearly berating himself in his head.

I scoot myself closer to him before stroking his cheek softly.

"No, that's our deal, you keep going until I safe word out. I didn't realize I was gonna safe a word out until it was flying out of my mouth," I tell him softly before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I'm sorry I ruined the mood," I tell him softly breaking the silence making him scoff.

"Don't! You didn't ruin anything. I'm glad you felt safe enough to use your safe word. I love you," Charles tells me softly making me smile before placing another kiss on his lips.

"Do you need anything?" Charles asks softly making me shake my head no.

"Give me a few minutes," is all I tell Charles before getting out of bed on shaky legs and heading to the bathroom.

When I get into the bathroom I see how much of a mess I was. I quickly pull myself back together before I wash my face from the tears.

When I go back into our room I find Charles lying on his back staring at the ceiling clearly feeling terrible still.

When I crawl back into bed instead of going on my side I crawl on top of Charles feeling his cock is no longer a raging boner rather it was a semi now.

"Mon Amour, what are you doing," Charles gasps when he feels my hips start rocking.

It doesn't take long for Charles to start getting hard again making him groan.

"Please Charlie," I beg trying to speed up my actions but with Charles's hands on my hips he's making it more difficult.

"I don't want to hurt you," Charles says with a sheepish look.

"You won't, please I wanna make you feel good," I tell him softly while still rocking my hips.

Finally, Charles gave in and flipped us over making sure we were both on top of the covers rather than just me on top of them.

"Please, I need you, Charlie. Please, just go slow," I beg.

"I'll be gentle," Charles whispers softly before he starts placing soft kisses around my neck and jaw before he found my sweet spot near my ear and bitting down and giving it a soft suck making sure it leaves a little mark.

"So beautiful," Charles mumbled before trailing his mouth down my neck and settling on my tits where he leaves a few hickeys scattered across both of my tits.

"I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you" Charles mumbled softly before leaving a faint trail of hickeys down to my pussy where he places a soft kiss on it before pulling himself back up.

"God you're so fucking gorgeous," Charles mumbles against my lips before kissing me and slowly starting to slip into my pussy making me gasp.

Charles gives me all the time I need to adjust to his size but as soon as I nod my head he slowly starts rocking his hips instantly making me start moaning at the pleasure.

"It's so good," I mumble against Charles's lips making him smile softly to himself.

"So tight baby," Charles groans back making him wrap my arms around his head and holding him close while he starts picking up his thrusts.

"Charlie! Fuck, I'm gonna cum," I moan loudly trying to hold off my orgasm as long as possible wanting to cum with Charles.

"Please, let me cum in you," Charles says making me nod my head.

"I wanna feel you filling me up, Charlie," I tell him in a stuttered voice trying to hold off a little longer but quickly falling over the edge when Charles speeds up his thrusts throwing me into an intense orgasm. I start shaking almost instantly from how intense the pleasure is that's coursing through my body.

"FUCK!" I scream out while clenching against Charles's cock before his thrusts start to become inconsistent letting me know Charles was close.

I clench around him as tight as possible making Charles falter slightly before he's spilling his cum deep in my pussy. I gasp when I can feel his cum painting my walls, but keep my pussy clenched to make sure Charles can ride his orgasm out.

"Fuck, Charlie, so good," I tell him softly while rolling on my side and pulling him in for a soft kiss.

"Only the best for my girl," Charles says softly before kissing my lips again.

"Still sorry I had to put a pause earlier," I tell Charles softly making him roll his eyes jokingly.

"I promise it is okay," he tells me softly kissing my lips and pulling him into his chest so I can fall asleep wrapped up in his warmth.

Hi! I would like to make a pizza order with a sicilian crust and res sauce. I would like green peppers, salami, spinach and mozzarella and no dessert. For drinks, I would like a coke and a wine for Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc please. Thank you

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian crust dating red sauce rough sex green peppers "I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you" salami "Such a little cum slut" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" mozzarella “All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” coke spanking wine free use kink dessert no served by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x poly! reader

TW spanking, finger fucking, unprotected sex, creampie, blow job, cum swallowing, finger fucking, MDNI 18+

WC 1300+

Y/N POV

"Our hotel 8pm, do not be late" Max whispers in my ear making me nod softly before getting back to work.

As the day goes on I can't help but think about what's gonna happen tonight. This is how it works, when Charles and Max need a third they give me a time and a place and I'm expected to be there, and if I need a release I do the same.

I don't leave the Red Bull hospitality until late due to extra work needing to be done so by the time I'm knocking on the door ten minutes late.

"You're late," Charles said when opening the door.

"I'm aware, it's not my fault," I said while walking into their hotel room before plopping on the couch next to Max.

"I told you to be on time," Max says roughly making me shake my head.

"Tell Horner to not hold me late so you can wet your dick," I snap not enjoying the attitude I'm receiving from both of the men.

My attitude snaps something in Max cause the next thing I know I'm being dragged across his lap and pulling the skirt I'm wear up to expose my pale ass to him.

"I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you" Max says before landing a rough slap right on my ass, making me whine at the sting.

"Fuck," I moan when he sends another slap to my ass.

"Don't start being a brat now," Max roughly states before sending another hard slap to my ass making me scream out again.

"Fuck, Max," I groan when his rough hand is rubbing the place he just slapped.

I feel another 3 slaps fly down in quick successions making me jolt forward while screaming out at the quick and harsh pain that is sending pleasure straight to my core.

"No more," I moan out. The pain was far from unbearable but the throb between my thighs is becoming unbearable.

"All you ever do is bitch and complain, just fucking take it” Max says sending another several slaps on my ass making me moan.

When Max has reddened my ass to his liking I feel Charles's hands on my hip pulling me up and turning me around to pull me in for a messy makeout.

He leads us to the bed where he softly pushes me onto the bed before climbing on top of me and grinding his hardening cock into my throbbing core.

"Charlie, please," I whine bucking my hips up trying to get more stimulation.

"Patience," Charles mumbles starting to trail his kisses down my body, starting to pull my shirt up making me sit up slightly so he can pull it off all the way. Once my shirt has been discarded somewhere in the room he makes quick work of unclipping my bra and discarding it too before going back to kissing down my neck where he settles on my tits and pulls my nipple into his mouth and gives it a strong suck before moving to my other nipple.

I feel Max crawl into bed near my face before he's leaning down and pulling me in for another kiss making me whimper into his lips at hot rough he is being.

I feel my skirt and thong be pulled down and thrown to join the rest of my clothes on the floor before he groans making me gasp when his breath hits my pussy.

"She's fucking drench," Charles tells Max making Max smirk against my lips proud of himself.

"Such a good slut, getting drenched from your spanking," Max whispers making me moan when Charles takes a small lick at my clit.

"More," I moan needing Charles to pick up the pace. Charles listens but only slightly. He sped up his actions but was still moving at such a teasing pace making me moan loudly.

"Fuck, feels so good," I mumble against Max's lips.

Charles finally slipped a few fingers into my pussy stretching me out making me scream at the pleasure coursing through me.

"Fuck," I moan when Charles starts finger fucking me and sucking on my clit bringing me to the edge and threatening to fall into a strong orgasm.

"Cum for him," Max mumbles against my lips while pulling one of my nipples between his fingers and giving it a tug, and throwing me over the edge from all of the stimulation coursing through my body.

Charles makes sure to help ride my orgasm out while Max holds me down slightly making sure I can't wiggle away from the pleasure.

Once I start cumming down from my orgasm Charles slows his actions down before slowly pulling away. It doesn't take long for Max to pull me up the bed slightly before flipping me over so I'm on my stomach.

I instantly get on my knees and arch my back. I feel Max shuffle behind me before Charles appears in front of me with his shirt and pants off leaving me to stare at his large cock making my mouth water slightly.

I instantly pull Charles's cock into my hand before I start sucking on the tip making Charles hiss at the pleasure. While I'm slowly jerking Charles's cock I feel the tip of Max's cock start teasing my pussy making me moan around Charles's cock sending vibrations down on him making him moan.

When Max slips into my pussy I pull off CHarles's cock and scream slightly from how full I felt.

Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" Max groans when he starts picking up the pace of his thrust making me moan loudly before pulling Charles back into my mouth.

"Fuck, so good," Charles groans pulling my hair into a makeshift pony helping me to bob my head on his cock faster, making me gag around his cock.

I can feel Max's pace start to pick up making me moan that is easily muffled by Charles's large cock.

"Fuck, she's gonna cum again," Max groans to Charles making me clench around him from being talked about like I couldn't hear him.

"Cum for Max," Charles says making me instantly cum all around Max's cock feeling his hips start to buck erratically before feeling him start to cum deep into my pussy.

He continues to fuck me making sure to help us ride our orgasms out. I could tell Charles was close to the edge as well which has me pulling him all the way into my mouth and down my throat making me gag before Charles starts unleashing a large load of his cum down my throat making me start swallowing instantly.

"Such a little cum slut," Charles groans when he slips his cock out, making me whine slightly. I loved having Charles's cock filling my mouth up as much as he loved having his cock shoved down my throat.

I feel Max slowly slip out of my pussy making me gasp at the emptiness before moaning slightly when his cum starts to leak down my pussy and over my sensitive clit.

"God I could watch my cum leak out of this pussy all day," Max groans before swiping his fingers through my folds and pushing two fingers into my pussy making me moan.

"I wanna see you cum again," Max says while starting to finger fuck me.

"Fuck," I moan when I can feel my orgasm approaching far sooner than it should. After having two strong orgasms I get so sensitive it doesn't take much to cum again and Max knew this.

"Come on, cum for me," Max groans speeding up his fingers before bringing his thumb down to tease my clit making me scream out as I start cumming all over Max's fingers.

"Good girl," Max says while riding my orgasm out before slipping his fingers out and offering them to Charles so he can lick them clean.

"Fuck, that's hot," I whisper as I watch Charles twirl his tongue around Max's cum soaked fingers. Charles just groans at the favor before pulling away and placing a wet kiss on my lips making sure I can taste Max and I's cum mixing together.

Celebrations and an Orgasm - CL16***

REQUEST OPEN

Charles Leclerc X Reader

Summary: After winning Monza Charles and his long time girlfriend go out for dinner with their family and friends to celebrate, but Charles can't contain himself and chooses to tease you the entire dinner.

TW - NOT PROOF READ, teasing in public, car activities, fingering, orgasm

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Amore, what time is dinner at again?" I call out from the bathroom knowing Charles is in the connected room on his phone blowing time before he would have to start getting ready.

Tonight we were finally going to be celebrating Charles's win in Monza. He invited some family and a few members of the grid.

"7, but we should leave around 6:30," Charles responds back before I hear him get out of our shared bed and make his way into the bathroom.

"You look beautiful," Charles tells me while wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me into his chest.

"Thank you, I haven't even started getting ready," I tell him with a small laugh falling from my lips.

"Ya, well you're as beautiful as ever," Charles says before placing a kiss on the top of my head before leaving the bathroom once again.

Once I was finally done getting all ready I made my way into our shared closet to find a nice dress to wear. I had to make sure it was classy enough for dinner but still good to make our way into one of the clubs in Monaco.

Filtering through many of my opinions I decided to wear Charles's favorite black dress he had gotten me last year on our summer vacation.

When I slip it on I make my way into our shared room again to find Charles in a nice button-down and some black slacks.

"Amore, you look nice," I tell him making my way to him where he instantly pulls me in to place a few kisses on my lips before placing a kiss on my forehead and pulling back to take my outfit in.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Cherie," Charles mumbles when he takes my dress in.

"Are you sure we gotta go," he jokes making me laugh and shake my head at his antics.

"Put your shoes on, horny boy," I laugh before grabbing my favorite black heels and slipping them on to complete my look.

I grab my wallet and hand it to Charles knowing I don't want to worry about carrying around a purse when we get to the club. When he slips it into his pocket he grabs my hand and walks us out the front door but not before we give Leo a few kisses.

When we finally get to dinner we find our family already there talking Carlos, Lando and Max's ear off.

"There's our winner," Pascale announces when she sees us approaching. She pulls Charles in for a quick hug and a few kisses on the cheek before giving me a hug.

"You look beautiful," Pascale says pulling back from the hug.

Once we all settled in and the rest of the guests arrived we all started talking amongst ourselves.

While having a rather expressive conversation with Lando from across the table I feel Charles's hand start slowly wandering from my knee up to the middle of my thigh. I don't think too much of it as he's in a deep conversation with Arthur. It wasn't until Charles's pinky finger grazed the edges of my panties making me suck in a slight breath at the brave action.

I subtly take Charles's hand in mine and move it from the destination he had decided on.

"Lascialo," (quit it) I lean over and whisper in Charles's ear before placing a kiss on his cheek to make it seem like a lovebird moment versus me scolding him. I see the smirk on his face start to grow making me roll my eyes knowing it was going to be a long night.

As the dinner went on Charles continued with his wandering hand with me always moving it away knowing a family dinner was no place to tease.

After moving his hand away for the fourth time I finally gave up and chose to ignore him entirely. I knew the second I started not giving him the attention he wanted I knew he would start teasing me substantially more.

I wasn't wrong cause when I felt Charles graze his fingers across my thong all over again, I knew it was coming so I was able to suppress any noise that would have slipped past my lips.

I could tell that wasn't what Charles had wanted because he instantly found my clit through my panties and started softly rubbing bringing up my heartbeat slightly.

"Amore," I whisper facing Charles trying to pull his hand away, knowing at any moment I could make some noise. Finally, Charles pulls his hand away and leaves it resting on my thigh a good distance from my pussy.

When his hand is finally set I can feel a bit of moisture on the tips of his fingers showing me that I was soaking through my panties.

As the dinner finished up Charles had left me alone in a sense of teasing but the damage had been done. I was extremely horny and I had no idea how I was going to make it through the night.

"Amore, please," I whine as soon as we get into the car to head to the club knowing damn well I was gonna be driving us home after because Charles will be far too drunk to be able to do it himself.

"What do you want," Charles questions with a smirk on his face making me whine again while throwing my head back.

"Touch me please," I whisper still staring at the roof of the car hoping for some kind of relief before we get to our next destination.

"I am," Charles teasingly reminds me by sending a soft slap on my thigh right where his hand had been resting.

"Charles, you better make me cum before we get there," I finally said while taking his hand and pushing it where I wanted.

"You have like 2 minutes, do you really think you can get there," Charles says while slowly pulling my panties to the side where he finds my clit and starts circling it with his fingers.

"Fuck," I moan when he starts applying more pressure helping me release all of the pent up frustrations from being teased during dinner.

I feel Charles slip his fingers into my pussy instantly hitting my G-spot making me moan loudly.

"I'm close," I gasp to Charles making him circle his thumb over my clit instantly throwing me over the edge into an intense orgasm.

"Oh fuck," I scream out while in the midst of cumming all over Charles's fingers.

"Good girl," Charles whispers as we pull up to the club. Before he opens the door for Vallet I see him suck his fingers cleaning all my juices off of them.

"Thank you," I whisper before leaning over the center console and placing a kiss on his cheek. I could see the smug smirk back on his face knowing he had teased me so good that I was cumming all over his fingers within minutes.

2024 Kinktober Masterlist

I have decided to do Kinktober this year! This is something I have wanted to do for awhile but I'm finally starting earlier enough to get 31 fics done in 31 days!

Every fic will have a main kink it is focused on however I will be adding TW before each fic so there is no misunderstanding on the contents of each fic.

The goal is to have each fic be between 1,000-2,000 words however some of them will be longer than others.

Day 1 - Hickeys ft. Lando Norris

Day 2 - Overstimualtion ft. Charles Leclerc

Day 3 - Thigh Riding ft. Max Verstappen

Day 4 - Threesome - MxM ft. Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris

Day 5 - Corruption (age gap) ft. Lewis Hamilton

Day 6 - Brat ft. Carlos Sainz

Day 7 - Spanking ft. Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen

Day 8 - Face Sitting ft. George Russell

Day 9 - Orgasm Denial ft. Oscar Piastri

Day 10 - Creampie ft. Charles Leclerc

Day 11 - Shower Sex ft. Oscar Piastri

Day 12 - Virginity ft. Pierre Gasly, Charles Leclerc

Day 13 - Mile high club ft. Lewis Hamilton

Day 14 - Somonophilia ft. Lando Norris

Day 15 - Public Sex ft. Oscar Piastri

Day 16 - Breeding ft. George Russell

Day 17 - Dry Humping ft. Pierre Gasly

Day 18 - Spit roast ft. Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris

Day 19 - Rough/ Aftercare ft. Charles Leclerc

Day 20 - Biting/Spitting ft. Carlos Sainz

Day 21 - Cockwarming ft. Max Verstappen

Day 22 - Squirting ft. Carlos Sainz, Lando Norris 

Day 23 - Humping/ guided masturbation ft. Oscar Piastri

Day 24 - Sex Toys ft. Pierre Gasly

Day 25 - Size Kink ft. Lewis Hamilton, George Russell

Day 26 - Sir (age gap) ft. Fernando Alonso

Day 27 - Bondage ft. Lando Norris

Day 28 - Free Use ft. Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc

Day 29 - Forced Orgasm ft. Carlos Sainz

Day 30 - Skinny Dipping ft. Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris

Day 31 - Orgy ft. Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz

MASTERLIST

Hardin Scott

If the world was ending

Truth or dare

Tessa Young

Happier

Joseph Morgan

Being married to joseph morgan

having a crush on joseph morgan

Sebastian Stan

Instagram au

Incorrect Quotes

Chloé being pregnant with bucky's child

incorrect quote

Bucky Barnes

best grade

Draco Malfoy

truth or dare

you want me to blame you (au)

King and Queen of Crazy

boyfriend

Jensen Ackles

Social Media Au

Dangerous Angel part 2 part 3

Vinnie Hacker

Instagram AU

No longer writing for

STRAY KIDS

FIC RECS

About me

I'm legal

18+

Haven't been posting much because I'm finishing high school

Final exams

5 more papers to write