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pucksandpower · 6 months

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Changing Lanes

Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love

“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.

Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”

You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”

He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”

“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”

Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”

“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”

He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”

A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”

Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”

“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.

His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”

You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”

He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”

“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.

“It might be.”

You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”

He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”

You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”

Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”

“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”

You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”

“Like what?”

He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”

You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”

You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”

Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”

“Just promise me one thing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”

***

“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.

Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”

You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”

He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”

“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”

He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”

You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”

Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”

Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”

“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”

He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”

You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”

He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”

Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”

“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.

He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”

You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”

“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”

Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”

You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”

He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”

He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”

***

“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”

You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.

“Charles?” You question hesitantly.

He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”

Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”

Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”

You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”

You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”

Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”

Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”

He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”

Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”

Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”

You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”

Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”

You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”

He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”

He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”

***

“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.“

Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.

Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”

Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”

The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.

“What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”

Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”

Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”

Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”

You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”

Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”

“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”

Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”

Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”

Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”

The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.

You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.

The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”

He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”

You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”

Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.

When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Always.”

***

Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”

You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”

“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”

You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”

He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”

The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”

“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”

He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”

You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”

As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.

You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”

He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”

You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”

He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”

As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.

After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”

You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”

He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”

You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”

He nods. “I know we will too.”

***

“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”

You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”

He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”

Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”

Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”

You grin. “Only when it counts.”

The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.

Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”

You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”

He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”

“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”

“I always do.”

As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”

He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”

The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.

“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”

“Copy.”

The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.

“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.

Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”

The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.

“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”

He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.

“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”

He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”

The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.

***

“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”

You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”

He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”

“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”

“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”

The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.

“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”

He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.

Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”

However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.

“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”

He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.

The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.

Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”

You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”

As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.

Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”

***

The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”

You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”

He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”

“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”

As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”

Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”

He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.

An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”

Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.

Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.

He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.

As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.

It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.

That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”

You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”

He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”

You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”

He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”

You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”

He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”

“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”

***

“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.

You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”

Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”

You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”

Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”

You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”

The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”

Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”

Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”

But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”

Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”

Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”

You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”

Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”

Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”

Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”

You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”

Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”

***

“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”

The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.

“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”

The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.

Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.

You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.

“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”

The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.

“Push now! Just a few more corners.”

As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.

“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”

“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”

***

“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.

You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”

Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”

Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.

“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”

Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”

Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.

Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.

“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.

Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”

You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”

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sunrizef1 · 2 months

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What happens in Vegas

Pt 2

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader, Max Verstappen x ex!reader A/N: tumblr was determined to mess me up while making this so if it’s wonky pleas tell me 🙏 Warnings: Cheating (not by reader)

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liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen and 1,008,989 others

yourusername Love in LV ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen

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user1 they’re so cute 😭

user2 god I’ve seen what you’ve done for others 🙏

maxverstappen ❤️

yourusername ❤️

user3 I’m feeling a y/n race win

user4 I ❤️ LV

user5 Red Bull 🔛🔝

redbullracing our favorite drivers! ❤️💙

liked by yourusername

user6 I’m still mad about Red Bull not letting her pass max last weekend 🙄

user7 she could have like 6 more wins this season if Red Bull didn’t protect max the way they do

user8 and the way Christian refuses to praise her over him in interviews rubs me the wrong way…

user9 100% favoritism

user10 they want to be praised for signing a woman and being inclusive but refuse to actually treat her the way they’d treat a male driver

user11 they treat her like a diversity signing because they think max is good enough to do everything for her when she’s literally top five on the grid 😭

user12 slay

landonorris ew

yourusername lonely

user13 she doesn’t deserve her seat

charles_leclerc 😁

yourusername 😁

user14 ready for another red bull win 🙃

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yourusername has added to their story

logansargeant

where u at

I want to go get dinner

yourusername

Ive just woke up like 15 mins ago

u wanna go nobu at Caesars?

I'm over near there rn with a couple people

logansargeant

yea lets do it

What time

yourusername

6 work?

logansargeant

yeah

let's gooooo

yourusername

I'm eating and then going back to sleep at the paddock, I'll drive u over if u want

logansargeant

😁

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

charles_leclerc

who took this lmao

I assume it wasn't max

yourusername

fucking Logan lmao

charles_leclerc

Americans sticking together then? 😂

yourusername

Think he appreciated me giving him a tow at the start lmao

charles_leclerc

I appreciated it too 😅

yourusername

Your welcome haha 😂

Could've sworn I was towing max tho 🧐

charles_leclerc

lol

Ik how they get about you though

If anyone asks, you didn't mean to help me 🫡

yourusername

you get it lol

you going to the afterparty???

charles_leclerc

idk if I'm invited 🧐

it is your party anyway

yourusername

you're always invited

see you there Charlie

charles_leclerc

yes ma'am 🫡

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TWITTER

yourusername has added to their story

TWITTER

MESSAGES

yourusername added to their story

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MESSAGES

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x female reader

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goldsainz · 8 months

Text

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55

summary: you’ve slowly consumed charles’s thoughts, and he doesn’t mind it.

request: “can i request ✒️ ❛ you’re my family too. ❜ + charles ?? thx in advanced hehe <3” by @ssainzz

warnings: pure fluff

NOTE: i was listening to margaret by lana while writing this and i just though it was so perfect for this fic. trying to get back into writing after a pretty uninspiring (and quite rough) few weeks. hope you enjoy bc i sure enjoyed writing this!

[ word count: 748 ]

Charles adores his job. He loves the sound of the engine, standing on the podium, seeing all the excitement the fans have to give and he adores travelling the world. He would never complain about the amazing things he is doing, but if there is one thing he has learned to cherish even more than all of that, it is you.

You’ve become an integral part of his days. Whether it’s waking up next to you or calling you to check in, he knows you’ve become home to him. When people ask him how his family is doing, he never fails to mention how you are doing.

He can’t help but admire you every time you walk by him, you’re a ray of sunshine in his life; at least that’s what everyone tells him. He hasn’t heard the end of it since he revealed you were his girlfriend, from his teammate to the fans, they can all see how much you’ve brightened his soul.

“Charles?” You softly say, snapping him out of the daydream he was in.

He glances up at you, watching as you move around the room. You’re packing your suitcase, clothes thrown around the room, you’ve most certainly overpacked for the race weekend. But Charles won’t tell you. He’s tried before and it’s a lost cause.

“Hm?”

“Do you think I should take the maroon or vermillion?” You muse, grabbing two different types of dresses and placing them against each other.

Charles furrows his brows, he glances between the dresses and tries to make a decision. But if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what the difference really is. The cuts of the dress are practically identical, and the length is the same in his eyes.

“The maroon?” He says doubtfully. You screw up your nose at his decision, apparently not being what you wanted to hear.

You look at the dress Charles picked once more, and with a shrug you throw it onto the ever-growing pile of clothes in your suitcase.

“I was thinking that for your family dinner we should bring something, right?” You ask him, organising some of the mess you’ve made.

“Our family dinner,” He tells you, a soft smile resting on his lips.

“Huh?” You manage to say, dropping the clothes you were folding onto the bed he’s resting on.

“You said that it was my family dinner, but it’s ours.”

“Oh,” You exhale, taking notice of the deep sentiment behind his words.

It takes you slightly by surprise, it’s not unlike Charles to be sweet, to reassure you with words when things get hard. But this time it is almost out of nowhere. You didn’t really mean anything by your words, yet it seems they touched him in a way you’re not even sure how to describe. The one thing you do know though, is that at the end of the day, he comes home to you. Because home is wherever you are, and that is bigger than anything else.

“You’re family to me, chérie.” He says after the smallest beat of silence.

“You’re my family too.” He doesn’t waste a second in getting up from the bed and kisses you grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into the kiss like he won’t ever get to do so again.

There is a pause in time. While his lips are on yours, it seems like everything just stops. Leaving you to breathe in the moment, cherish the feeling.

When you pull away from the kiss, the crinkles in Charles’s eyes from the soft smile he gives you melts all your insides. You’d be a fool not to give him the same sentiment back, and so you do.

“You’ve got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He whispers, his hand caressing the side of your face.

“And you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You say back, admiring the depth of the green in them.

Though neither of you say it, too lost in the moment, it is evident that the love between you is sparkling. And you know, you just know, that Charles is the one for you; just like he knows you were made for him.

If there’s anything you know, it is that he is your family. That he is the one you love. The one you’d come home to every day and never be bored of it. Because monotony with Charles is impossible, and if there ever is, you’d still want it.

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verstappen-cult · 23 days

Note

i love ur writing sm🥹🥹 i would love a scenario where y/n is dating max & charles,and she's a somgwriter who often wakes up in the nighttime with lyrics in her mind and has to sneak out of bed to write them down/make voice notes of the songs so she doesnt forget😭😭 maybe sometimes they wake up and they love to listen to her singing but keep it a secret between them so she doesnt feel bad ab waking them accidentally 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

Max is the first one to wake up when he feels you getting out of bed, being very careful as to not wake them. As always. He pretends to be asleep when he sees you turning around to make sure they’re still sleeping, and Max can’t help the smile that appears on his face.

He lies there, unable to fall back to sleep knowing what you’re doing in the living room.

Charles wakes up when he turns around and doesn’t feel your body next to him. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and snuggles closer to Max, who happily opens his arms for him.

“How long has she been awake?” Charles asks, head resting on his boyfriend’s chest.

“I’ve been hearing her for about ten minutes.” Max answers, closing his eyes and trying to make out your whispered words from across the hall.

“You think she knows?” Charles smiles against Max’s chest when he hears your beautiful voice, followed by a curse when it doesn’t sound right.

Max shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

They stay silent, barely breathing, when you start signing again. They’re glad that it’s three in the morning and the city is sleeping because it’s possible for them to make a few words of the song. You never let them hear your songs, at least not after they’re finished, so they feel pretty lucky when they witness these kinds of moments.

“Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long,” Max smiles. You’re back to writing the song that has become his favorite, even though it is definitely not finished but the words, the way you sing, what you’re trying to tell through those words? Max feels identified. “And I’ve been meaning to… ugh no!” He hears the frustration in your voice and wishes to be there with you to tell you how beautiful the lyrics are.

“You think we should tell her?” Charles looks up at Max, hand caressing his naked chest.

“No, or she’ll stop.” Max leans to place a kiss on Charles forehead.

“I don’t want that,” Charles pouts, closing his eyes to try to fall back to sleep with your voice. “I like listening to her process.”

Max silently agrees. He follows Charles’ example and closes his eyes too, still paying attention to the words falling from your lips.

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. Your dad is always mad and that must be why,”

Charles hugs his boyfriend tightly and places a soft kiss right above his heart. They both know the meaning of those lyrics, even if you haven’t told them anything yet.

“And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates. Then you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet.”

Those are the last words they hear before falling asleep.

They don’t know at what time you went back to bed, but the next morning you’re sound asleep, snoring peacefully, snuggled between them. The only proof of your little escapade is your bulging notebook of lyrics on the coffee table and a blanket on the couch.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #poly!f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

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lxclerc · 2 months

Text

𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... old wounds are ripped open as you and charles finally face each other. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… angst. angst. angst. kinda mean charles

note... okay i know i disappeared from the face of the earth but if you guys are still here, i hope you enjoy this. this is really when the story starts tbh.

series masterlist

main masterlist

part three → current (part four) → part five

you’d grow to resent him; this is the ugly truth. if you’d stayed, you’d eventually grow to resent him. if you stayed, he’d grow to resent you. the both of you have dreams bigger than yourselves, love each other in a way that’s greater than what your teenage, immature brains were capable of.

you hated that everyone knew you as his girlfriend as though you don’t have an identity of your own. in everyone’s eyes, you’re just charles leclerc’s girlfriend. and you would have hated living like that. you would have hated always being accused of being where you are simply because you’re dating a driver.

you’d enter formula 1 one way or another. it’s your world and you would be a part of it eventually. had you stayed with charles, it wouldn’t be your world. it’d be his world with you as his tag along. your dreams and hard work would be invalidated.

it was bad enough in f3 and f2. you’d be no one had you entered formula 1 hanging on to his arm. and you can’t handle being no one, being a shallow extension of charles. you’re your own person with your own identity and your own dreams and you would have resented him had you stayed.

he would have given up racing had you asked him to. you’re his lifeline, the arms holding him together at his lowest points and the hand entwined with his at his highest. anyone who knew the two of you knew this. to charles leclerc, you were everything — the breath in his lungs, the beat of his heart.

it doesn’t matter what he’s lost, what he doesn’t have, so long as he had you. he would have given up everything if it meant you’d stay. you were all he knew — you’d taught him love unlike any he’s ever experienced.

and then you taught him heartbreak bigger than he knew possible. he just needed you to stay. he needed you by his side always.

had you asked him to, he would have given up his dreams. he needed you constantly — needing you to ground him, to keep him together. he needed you to give him reason to look forward to the next day.

but he would have hated you, he would have resented you. he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. he was born to race, born to compete and asking him to give it up for you would have been messing up the formula of what made charles charles. and eventually, he would hate you. he’d hate you from keeping him from what he’s born to do.

it was over before it ended — you both knew it. it wasn’t the same as before. being together would have held you both back. but charles held on, trying desperately to fix the broken glass despite his bleeding hands.

you were just the one who finally said it as it is.

charles had begged you though. he’s gotten on his knees with tears streaming down his eyes as he begged you to stay. he begged you try and make it work, he would have found ways to make it work but you begged him to let you go, cried as you asked him to remove his arms around you.

the days after were brutal. he showed up on your doorstep every night, called you every chance he got, and left pleading messages.

but eventually you left and he had no way of reaching you, of knowing where you are.

“i hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted and i hope it’s still never enough.” it was his last voicemail to you through tears, drunk and angry and heartbroken but it was also his curse.

you’d get everything you want but you’d always wonder what your life could have been if you stayed with him, had you been content in being just his wife.

you hadn’t answered charles’ text and for his part, he’d completely ignored you. whenever you find yourselves walking past each other around the paddock, he doesn’t even glance your way. it’s like you’d turned invisible. and when he does meet your eyes, it’s filled with nothing but contempt and hatred.

it’s better this way, you tell yourself. some love stories just don’t have happy endings and unfortunately, yours is one of them.

you didn’t expect to meet him here. at least not tonight, which thinking back to it now, was foolish of you. the season just ended after all, where else would charles leclerc be rather than partying at home?

but you’ve done your best to stay clear of him, keeping close to your friends. you’d be lying if you said the alcohol didn’t help with distracting you from his presence. maybe a little too well considering you hadn’t even realized you were alone with him until it was too late for you to leave without making it awkward.

you’re both at the rooftop of the nightclub, far enough from the party going on downstairs with all the privacy someone as well known and important as charles leclerc might need, but with the beat of the song causing vibrations beneath your feet.

you know that the rooftop is only available for special guests and you should have known it’d be charles when your friends mentioned it but the two of you have ran in the same circles from your childhood throughout your adulthood. the venn diagram of yours’ and charles’ friends is a circle so it was no surprise when your group of friends had been invited along.

half of your friends had left after the clock struck two while half of the remaining ones had been caught up with a man or another and the two you’d been left with left to get more drinks. charles had been with joris, hugo and andrea earlier but you aren’t sure where they are now. it was the explanation of how you found yourself in this predicament – left in the mercy of the chilly monegasque air with your bitter and possibly drunk ex boyfriend.

across from you, charles is staring at the bottle of his drunk, seemingly not aware of your presence if the focus he has on the bottle is anything to go by. for your part, you’re already planning your escape plan, eyes darting to the door as you contemplate whether you should leave now or wait for your friends. they’re not meant to be taking this long considering they’re only getting more drinks which meant that they’d probably gotten distracted by one thing or another.

the silence is awkward, the only sound coming from the hum of the music below you, and charles’ nonchalance avoidance of ignoring your existence makes it all worse. you needed to get away.

you already moved to stand up and leave when he spoke up, eyes finally leaving his stupid bottle to meet yours. “repartir ? vous êtes doué pour ça, n'est-ce pas ?” (leaving again? you’re good at that, aren’t you?)

your jaw clenched in annoyance and if you were even a little logical, you would ignore the jab and just leave, but you’re halfway through being out of your mind drunk and you hate the sharpness in his tone as if he hated talking to you.

you rolled your eyes, bringing your cocktail back to your lips as you lightly shook your head, crossing your leg over the other in an attempt to hide your almost-escape. “non. je me mets à l'aise.” (no, just getting comfortable.)

you don’t want him to know how being in his presence absolutely terrifies you, especially after the last time and the last text he’d sent you.

charles grinned wickedly, letting you know that he didn’t buy into your lie, and you were sober enough to recognize the cloud of alcohol in his eyes. he’s drunk, way more than you are. “Pourquoi as-tu peur de rester seule avec moi, y/n?” (why are you scared to be left alone with me?)

you scoffed. “qui a dit que j'avais peur, charlie ?” (who said i was scared, charlie?)

if you’d been paying more attention, you would have seen the way he visibly flinched as the old nickname fell from your lips. he hated you and the effect you still have on him.

silence engulfed the two of you again as you looked past him and focused on the view before you. despite the fact that it’s nearly three in the morning, monte carlo is as lively as ever, bright and beautiful as the view of the ocean and the waves crashing against rocks is a deep contrast from the bright neon lights from the nightclubs and casinos and many many hotels.

you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t ever a time where you wished you hadn’t left monaco, hadn't left home. you miss it terribly, but you don’t regret leaving.

once again, it’s charles to break the silence. he’s watching you again as though you’re a jigsaw puzzle with a thousand pieces he’s trying to all piece together. he’s looking at you as though he doesn’t recognize you, as though you’re a stranger he used to know. and the worse part is that it isn’t that part off the truth.

“i hate you,” he says, tone bitter and so sharp it feels as though it cut the air providing you oxygen. you turned to him, all of the sadness in the world hidden behind your eyes that he almost wants to take it back if only the bitter, abandoned monster you’d birthed and left him with after he lost you didn’t feel so much satisfaction at seeing the hurt in your eyes, at being able to hurt you as you hurt him then, as your presence’s sudden return in his life continues to hurt him now.

“that’s okay,” you say softly, a crack in your voice as the ache in your chest expands. “if that’s what will give you closure.”

he hates you and that stupid, fucking answer. he hates your lack of reaction. he hates that he’s the only one seemingly losing his goddamn mind, that he’s the only one who suffered – who hurt – after you left. he’s so fucking exhausted of hurting because of you.

you sigh, trying to stop the tears beginning to pool in your eyes. neither of you are in the mental state to be doing this right now.

“we’re going to be working together a lot this season, charles. the past should be left where it belongs – in the past.”

he glared at you with such ferocity that you thought he might actually set you on fire on the spot simply with the burning hatred behind his glare. “that’s it then? no explanation on why you left me? dropped me off so easily as if i never mattered to you. make it easy, y/n. say i never mattered. that would be my closure.”

it’s getting increasingly hard to keep your composure. when you decided to go out tonight, this was the last thing you expected. though if you were being honest with yourself, you should have known that this confrontation would come eventually, especially after the two of you were thrown back in each others’ lives so suddenly.

you’d left charles broken. you hadn’t meant to and you badly hoped he’d be able to piece his heart back together as the distance between the two of you grew, but he looks as broken now as he did the night you told him you couldn’t do it anymore. and you felt as much of a monster now as you did back then.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to scream how it hurt you too, how much you thought of him, of returning into his arms, how much you missed him, how much you love him, how sorry you were that this is the way the two of you became. your ‘almost’ would always haunt you.

it’s a tragedy the way your story went; maybe, perhaps, almost.

you wanted to tell him that you were scared – terrified of the love you had for each other because you knew it would ruin you and worse of all, you knew you would let it. how were you meant to deal with a realization like that so young? how were you meant to deal with the kind of love that was so soul crushing?

“it was like walking into the sun,” you say finally, muttering the words so softly that charles could barely hear you. “being with you was like walking into the sun in the hottest of all summer days after a terribly long winter. it was all consuming and all too much too soon. you burned me, charles. you set every part of me alight. you kept me so warm that you were burning me.”

charles held back a sob threatening to escape past his lips. “so you decided to break me?”

“we were too young,” you said instead. only eighteen. “we were too young and we loved each other too much. there was no place together for two teenagers with such big dreams.”

charles looked angry again, the tears staining his cheeks momentarily stopping as he all but snarled; “i would have given up racing for you.”

you stared ahead as you nodded, your own tears falling. you know this already. he would have given up everything if you asked. “and you would have hated me for it eventually.”

charles opened his mouth to argue, but no words came. He wanted to deny it; wanted to tell you that he could never hate you, not when you were everything to him. he adored every part and piece and molecule of you. you were the sun and the moon and the ocean and the thing that made the world go round. you were everything beautiful in the universe and he was so madly in love with you. he would have created a new religion just so he could worship you in a way he believed you deserved to be worshiped all he ever wanted was for you to stay. he just needed you to stay, to allow him to keep loving you. how could he ever hate when you were the breath in his lungs and the beat of his heart?

but he couldn’t say it. maybe he wouldn’t have stopped loving you. he doesn’t think he’s ever capable of not loving you. even now, when he hates you, he loves you. if you asked him to choose you over racing, the put your dreams before his own, he would still love you. he would still crawl to you, but he would resent you. that seed of resentment would continue to grow till it became unbearable. he will still love you, of course, you’re the breath in his lungs after all, the beat of his heart. he needed you to live, but he would resent you. your lives would have been miserable.

“how did it feel?” he asked instead. “after you left me.”

“like i’d never recover,” she said without missing a beat. “like i’d never draw another breath without half of it being a wish for you.”

charles expected it the answer to satisfy him. he wanted to be selfish and be happy over the fact that you were hurting too. he wanted to want you to suffer, but he feels nothing now. it all feels so empty. how many times will his heart break for you? he’s a mess. he’s a mess desperately trying to hold it all together. somewhere between love you and hating you, between knowing you and desperately wanting to forget you, he forgot how to love anyone else. he forgot how to know anyone else. he forgot how to love himself.

“in another universe, we meet later in life and love each other right,” you tell him as softly as you could, repeating the mantra you’d repeated to yourself for the past years. you stood up, soft, familiar hand caressing his cheek.

but it would not be in this universe.

taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @iamahallucinationnn @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes @applopie @sukisheadlights @iampersonn @blueflorals @marialovesf1 @charli123456789 @127deob1 @rachelvmrsh1988 @summerslike11 @cha-hot @thewulf @im-an-overthinker @sophiesonlinediary @ru-kru @janeholt3 @stiles-banshees @maxv33rstappen @fairy-jojo @whydowesleepeachnight @paintedbypoetry @amel1ee @apolloxxivmin @dannyriccsupremacy @americanbluebirdrb @rosabella98 @rhythmstars @miakat9 @iamkaku @bloombb @berrnuu @smiithys

the ones crossed out means i'm unable to tag you for some reason.

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

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tempting-andromeda · 8 months

Text

More nsfw headcanons because I can

Warning: NSFW, choking?, bondage, pinning, power play, crying, marks?, knife play, temperature play, drunk sex, humiliation, hair pulling, idk what else

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Eagle flies

Send in requests if you want to see specific characters or if you want me to add characters to the list !

Arthur Morgan

He has a thing for shoving his fingers on your mouth. It’s like a good way to rile him up. If you kiss his fingers and slowly put one in your mouth he watches you in awe.

Insists he doesn’t want you to go down on him but when you do he lets out the most animalistic moans and says the dirtiest shit ever

Whenever you moan sometimes he’ll respond with “yeah?” In the most seductive voice

He likes when you wear his clothing while you ride. Like wearing his signature blue shirt or his cowboy hat??? Drives him absolutely wild

Sometimes he tries to humor you by being submissive but after a while he takes control and uses your own words against you. He’s a huge tease about it

John Marston

Cannot stay still for the life of him. If you tie his hands down he’s using his hips. He refuses to stay still and it becomes a yoi problem once he’s free

He grabs everything. Thighs, ass, chest, sheets. He always has a handful of something whenever y’all are fucking.

Whenever he’s in control he likes to copy your moans and cries. He’ll be like “yeah? Yeah? What ya screaming my name for?” While he pounds into you

He’s the worst at serious sex. He always says something weird or awkward during it like “you want the marston special?” And if you bring it up he’ll be so bratty about it

Likes to pin you down. Even if he’s not being rough. He’ll hold your hips down or hands down while he kisses your neck.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He draws out everything. Like he’ll sit between your legs running a finger up and down your thighs while you beg and he’ll just whisper dirty things in your ear

kinda likes when you disobey him and he gets to spank you to make you “good” it riles him up so much

Sometimes he doesn’t do any work and he’ll just make you sit on his lap and ride him. Like he touches you but he won’t move his hips because he likes how desperate you get for him to take over.

Eye contact is a must. He’ll place soft bites on your wrist and ankles while making eye contact the whole time.

He likes to make you cry. Not the type of crying from when he’s mean but he likes when you get so overstimulated you cry.

Charles Smith

Loves to be the one to undress you. If you’re taking of your shirt he’s hands are quick to replace it and he insist he does it instead.

He cannot do quickies. He has to have you for over an hour and he makes sure it’s worth it.

Absolutely worships you. He can spend an hour just kissing you. It’s the worst and the best at the same time.

He likes when you leave marks on him. Like scratch marks, indents from your nails, bite marks, hickeys. It makes him feel so proud and he can’t take his mind off you when he sees them.

Likes to indulge in your kinks. he’s probably not the kinkiest but if you ask him to try out something he’s willing to and he usually does his best.

Javier Escuella

He likes to tell you what to do. He’ll tell you to flip over or to spread your legs and every time you obey him he gets even more turned on.

Loves to tease. He’ll tease you for hours, gently rubbing your thighs while you sit by the campfire, letting you sit in his lap while he lets you feel him harden under you, roughly grabs your hips while he slides behind you

Even though he likes to tell you what to do he loves when you tell him where to cum. He gets so eager.

He loves to stay in you after he finishes. Even if you asked him to finish somewhere else he’ll push himself back into you just to feel you.

Idk why I feel like he’s into temperature play. Like letting his knife get warm over a candle and then dragging the flat side over your skin.

Sean MacGuire

If you initiate intimacy he’s crumbling. He has the most active sex drive ever. Seeing you exist is a turn on for him so if you initiate it hes drooling over you.

Once he spilt his drink on you while y’all snuck off to have a quickie at a bar and now he’s addicted to drinking whiskey off of your skin.

He’s either real slow with foreplay, spreading your legs and putting you on full display for him or he’s super eager, bitting and pulling your clothes off.

He whines when y’all fuck but he refuses to admit that. He always says he groans like a man but in the moment he whimpers and whines in your ear.

Sometimes when he’s too excited he cums too fast and continues like it never happened. Like he’ll take a moment to catch his breath and then he’s back at it.

Lenny Summers

It’s rare he’s rough but sometimes he’s asks if he can “let loose” with you and it’s rough. His hands are gripping onto you and he’s just growling and grunting

Constantly pushes your hair out of your face to see you because he likes seeing your reactions. It gives him a huge confidence boost.

He likes for sex to be slow and sensual to make it more intimate but sometimes he gets too into it and he’ll press gentle kisses to the shell of your ear while he says stuff like “I promise next time I’ll be gentle”

His favorite position is missionary. It’s nearly impossible for him to stay in any other for long. Y’all can start with like cowgirl or doggy but as soon as he gets into it he flips you into missionary.

Sometimes he’ll beg but he always begs for something you’re already doing or he’ll just beg for you not to stop.

Kieran Duffy

His chest is so sensitive. If you even place your hands on his chest to brace yourself or just to pat his chest casually he’s holding back a whimper.

Gets so embarrassed when he’s turned on he doesn’t try to initiate it like others do he just slowly grinds himself against you.

He loves to bite the back of your neck when he’s behind you. He’ll slide his arms over your chest or waist and kinda nuzzle himself against your neck and just slowly bite your neck

Sometimes he doesn’t even take his pants off completely he’s so eager to have you. Like he’s able to pull himself out of his pants but they’re barely half way down his thighs (you usually have to take them all the way off)

He can barely make out anything when y’all are intimate. He’s just a whining mess. If he even gets anything out it’s probably him begging for something

Micah Bell

He LOVES embarrassing you. Like he’ll cover you in hickeys or not properly clean you up and make you walk around camp.

He makes you give him head while he’s busy. He likes the idea of you being a personal toy for him.

Doesn’t like when you’re automatically submissive. He thinks it takes all the fun out of it. He likes when you try to act all bratty.

He’s probably the most rough out of everyone but he doesn’t have an occasional gentle streak that he uses as a “treat” for you.

He gets too jealous sometimes so he asks you questions and makes you yell out his name like “so who’s fucking you like this tonight, whore? Me or him?”

Eagle Flies

Loves when his hair is pulled. It drives him crazy. the smallest tug makes him moan so loud.

No matter what position he needs to be close to you. His hands need to be on you and he needs to be able to kiss you, anywhere

He will say the most forward shit out of nowhere. Like he’ll have you in the most obscene position and he’ll say something like “wanna marry you one day.” Out of the blue

He whimpers when he’s about to finish. He’s not ashamed about it either.

Sex is one of his favorite ways to relieve stress but he makes sure you also feel good so he gives the best aftercare afterwards so you know he’s truly grateful

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

Note

hiii huge congratulations again😊💛 this is such a lovely celebration - apologies in advance if i pop up again with another blurb request lol i was so drawn to “you’re so oblivious, aren’t you?” with either charles or oscar! i’m kind of clueless so it spoke to me hahaha

1k celebration!

hiiiii marissa thank you I loved this req

You’re following Charles through the paddock, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Charlie, come on,” you whine desperately.

He laughs and pulls his sleeve from your grip. It’s not long before he’s reaching back to link his fingers with yours, though. It’s getting more and more crowded the farther you walk, and you’re sure he just wants to make sure the two of you stick together.

“No,” he says, loudly enough so you can hear it.

“But Charles,” you try again, squeezing his hand softly. “You can trust me. Just tell me, I can help you! I’m very good at this sort of stuff.”

He leads you into the Ferrari garage, and now he takes the time to turn around and eye you skeptically. “You’ve been single for longer than I have, mon ange.”

You roll your eyes and hope he doesn’t notice how your face has heated up at the nickname. He finally drops your hand, and you take the opportunity to cross your arms over your chest. He mirrors your actions with a smirk on his lips. You tap your foot impatiently, and a laugh bubbles up from his chest. You let out a huff through your nose, head dropping back to stare at the ceiling.

“We’re best friends, we’re supposed to tell each other everything,” you remind him.

Charles laughs again, and you feel his hand on the top of your head. He leans close and presses his lips to your forehead. “Yes,” he agrees. “Just not this.”

You let out a frustrated groan as he walks away, one so loud it makes at least three people turn to stare at you. You sink down onto a nearby stool, arms still crossed over your chest. Someone nudges your shoulder.

“What’s got you all…” Carlos starts, struggling for the word to describe your state. He leans towards you, waving a hand in the air. “All bothered.”

You groan again. “I’m not… bothered. Charles is just being a brat.”

Carlos raises his brows and waits expectantly.

You shrug. “He’s got a crush on some girl. He won’t tell me who it is.”

Carlos blinks at you, turning his head between you and Charles across the room like it’s a tennis match. He raises his brows and then lets out a laugh. You stare back at him, wide eyed and questioning.

“You are so oblivious, aren’t you?” He says, an amused smile on his face.

You don’t even process his words until he starts to walk away. Then you stumble off the stool to follow him, tugging on his sleeve now with wide eyes. “Hey! The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 blurb #f1 fic #f1 x reader #x reader #scuderiahoney 1k blurbs #scuderiahoney 1k!#cl16

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fleurrreads · 3 months

Note

hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion <3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s – although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively and literally on the track.

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet.

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides.

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours.

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…”

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck.

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants.

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment.

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.”

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice.

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises.

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands.

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?”

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?”

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.”

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.”

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.”

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac.

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.”

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.”

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face.

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones.

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern.

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy.

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.”

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.”

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.”

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.”

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.”

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair.

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.”

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss.

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests.

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.”

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.”

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.”

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me.

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you.

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.”

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?”

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!”

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.”

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?”

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?”

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.”

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.”

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to.

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much.

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?”

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his.

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.”

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.”

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.”

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.”

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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gottaluvharry · 8 months

Text

Tossing & Turning

Charles Leclerc x Female Reader

Summary: Charles coaxes you back to sleep when your cramps keep you up.

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Tossing. Turning. Tossing. Turning. All night long you haven’t been able to get comfortable, your cramps irritating you behind belief. You were envious of your boyfriend who was still, somehow, sound asleep behind you. While he does sleep like a rock, he always gravitates toward you when you move around. If you roll out of his embrace, he blindly feels for you until he can pull you back in. He had no idea he was doing it, it was an act he committed subconsciously, yet it made you smile every time. You huff and look up at the ceiling with your arms clenching your lower stomach, so fed up with not being able to sleep. The worst part was that you couldn’t wake Charles about it as he had early training in the morning- you would feel terrible if you woke him up just to complain. With a groan, you spin around to sit with your feet on the floor of your room, looking behind you at your boyfriend sprawled out and fast asleep. Your love. Even in pain, you still took the time to admire him. You wait for your pain to die down before you get up to go to the kitchen. Unlucky for you though, as your reaching up to get the tea from the cupboard your pain returns, amplified more than before. A groan of pain escapes your lips as you simultaneously double over and drop the box of tea to the floor. You don’t even acknowledge how the sound of the box hitting the floor might wake Charles. You crouch down, unable to hold yourself up as you wait out the pain. Unbeknownst to you, Charles is awake down the hall trying to figure out why his girl isn’t in his arms anymore. He can feel the warmth on your pillow, indicating to him that you haven’t been gone long. He starts to rise slowly, but picks up the pace when he hears quiet sobs from across the house. He quickly makes his way towards the sound, his heart sinking when he sees you folded over on the floor silently crying next to a spilled box of tea bags. He knows you’re on your period, and he also knows how bad ylur cramps can be. He frowns as he comes up behind you slowly, trying not to scare you. “Amour” he whispers, “why didn’t you tell me you were in pain?” he asks as he sits and leans against the counters, slotting you between his legs. “I didn’t want to wake you, you have training tomorrow” you say as you wipe your eyes. You try your hardest not to lean into him, you don’t want to make him feel like he has to stay with you- and he doesn’t like that one bit. “Y/n” he pleads. “I’m not mad at you for waking me up, please relax and let me take care of you”. At that, you finally lean into him and let yourself feel comfort in your boyfriends embrace. You sigh when you feel his warm hands start to knead the skin over where you hurt. “Thank you” you whisper. “You don’t have to thank me amour. This is what boyfriends are for” he says as he leans down to kiss your neck. “Are you feeling better? Do you want to go back to bed?” he asks. With the nod of your head, he gently picks you up and carries you back to your room, placing you in the same spot you were in a half hour ago. Before you even have the chance to ask him where he’s going, he comes back into the room with the heating pad in his hands. You just smile at the caring man who plugs it in next to your bed and places it over your lower stomach. As he crawls back into his side of the bed he pulls you into him and your head immediately finds the crook of his neck. With the feeling of your legs intertwined and his arms wrapped around your shoulders and back, you finally feel comfortable for the first time tonight. As your on the brink of sleep you hear him whisper “Je t’aime tellement. Je t’aiderai toujours quand tu auras mal. Tu comptes tellement pour moi, y/n, et je vais t’épouser un jour.” I love you so much. I will always help you when you hurt. You mean so much to me, y/n, and I am going to marry you someday. The last thing you feel before you fall into a much needed slumber is the soft feather of his lips on your forehead, and the light comfort of his hands brushing up and down your back.

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being touch deprived and on your period at the same time is so painful😪 lonely girlies rise!!!!!!!

also, i didn’t edit this so sorry for mistakes, the gif is not mine, and i used google translate for the french:)

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predestinatos · 6 months

Text

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole): but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 fandom #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1blr #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

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natailiatulls07 · 7 months

Text

The golden trio Pt 6

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - swearing, crying

A/n - 😌😋

The golden trio

Twitter

username It’s been five days since Lando was caught kissing that other chick and Y/n hasn’t posted ANYTHING!!

username He has sooooo fucked up mate it’s unbelievable and by the looks of it he hasn’t done anything to apologise yet 😖

username You know I don’t think anyone has seen her leave the apartment building either, like we know Max and Charles are around but they haven’t be looking all that happy

username Yeah cause someone who is practically their little sister has been hurt time and time again!! What do you expect?

f1gossip

Spotted: Y/n L/n leaving her apartment complex with both of her roommates, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Liked by username and 1,583 others

username Lando fucking Norris you are a fucking idiot 😒

username Oh mate, she looks devastated

username She can’t get a break!!

username Did you guys see Max and Charles though?! They were so annoyed

username I hope the chick is happy, she ruined a relationship 🙄

Max Fewtrell twitch live stream

Twitter

username Anybody watched Max Fewtrells twitch this evening?? Lando??

username You can tell he’s so guilty with himself!!

username Like he was so blunt!

username He had it coming, like you can’t go around kissing another girl whilst you’re in a relationship. It’s common sense.

Text (White: Reader) (Red: Carlos)

Hey, I heard about what happened with Lando I’m sorry

Yeah these things happen, it’s not your fault

Look I have a idea but you can back out if you want totally your choice

Ok?? Go on

So I’ve was thinking if we could date until Lando gets jealous

Oh right…

Please don’t feel like you have to do this tho

Sure I’ll do it, I don’t want to let him down easily

Perfect! So should we go on a date tomorrow night and make sure people see??

Yeah that’ll be a good idea, the gossip instagrams just love to post about me so it’ll spread fast

f1gossip

Spotted: Y/n L/n and Carlos Sainz, former McLaren teammate of Lando Norris, seen on what seems to be a date in Monte Carlo this evening. It has been a few days since Lando Norris, who seems to Y/n’s ex now, was seen kissing another girl.

Liked by yourusername and 3,263 others

username Mr Norris what will you do now??

username She really said get even bitch ��

~~ Liked by yourusername

username Ooooo more gossip more gossip!!!

username Yk I would sell my kidney to see what is going on behind the closed doors 👀

username Y/n in her reputation era??

username Yk, Idk what to think??

Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Blue: Max) (Red: Charles)

Hey Bee…

Yeah I’d everything ok?

No…

Um Lando is currently stood in our living room, pestering Charles on where you are…😬

Wtf!

Why? Ask him why he’s there!

Seen 2 minutes ago

Yk I don’t like the fact that it’s taking forever!

He is here to apologise, he feels horrible and I think he means it

Well tell him that I am busy and that he should consider this relationship done

Ok soooo he’s gone but

But…?

I don’t think he was very happy that you are completely blocking him out, more angry in my opinion

Look that’s his problem, you can’t go around kissing other girls whilst you’re in a relationship it’s common fucking sense

Ok, what time are you coming back tonight?

Around 9pm, Carlos has a flight in the morning

See you then Bee

Bye guys

Bye Bee

f1gossip

Since Y/n’s date this evening we have noticed that the former couple have both gone and unfollowed each other on instagram and other socials. Maybe the ship has really sailed away.

Liked username and 2,583 others

username Oh Shit!

username So that really does mean…

username No I can’t do this, nope not today 😭

username True love? Yeah no that doesn’t exist

username What do we do now?!?! 😰

username Friends to Lovers to Enemies 🥺

yourusername

But now you’re on your knees while I’m wrapped up in his sheets 😚

Tagged: carlossainz55

Liked by carlossainz55 and 75,925 others

username MISS GIRL!!!

username Karma really is a bitch!

carlossainz55 ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

= yourusername 😋😋😋

username Lando you know this is about you!!!

~~ Liked by yourusername

username Loving this whole thing!!!!!

username She moved onto a real man, not a little boy. Well deserved!

Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc @eugene-emt-roe @skepvids @ravisinghs-wife @bellaturner @roseseraj

#formula one #formula one x reader #lando norris #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #carlos sainz #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #carlos sainz x reader #charles lechair #redbull racing #ferrari racing #mclaren racing

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verstappen-cult · 4 months

Text

ATTENDING THE ERAS TOUR WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando suggests you wear matching outfits because he’s seen how everyone dress up so cool to go to the concert and he wants you both to experience what it means going to the eras tour, from start to finish. he blares all taylor’s albums while you get ready and in the car ride to the stadium, he knows probably half of the lyrics but his excitement is so cute you don’t tell him how he’s singing pretty like a devil instead of grinning like a devil.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles doesn’t consider himself as a huge swiftie, of course he knows a few of taylor’s songs but that’s it. however, when you asked him if he’d be your date for the concert, his high rate went up to the roof. seeing the taylor swift live? for the first time ever? and at the eras tour? he tried very hard not to show how happy and excited that made him feel and he was… not too successful. he sings with you during the concert, and happily listens to you talk about your favorite part while you drive back home.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

when oscar bought you the tickets, he was expecting you to go with one of your friends, not to hug him and kiss him and practically scream how excited you were to attend the concert with him. oscar knows nothing about taylor swift, he’s heard a few songs because who hasn’t? so a few days before the big day you sit him in front of the tv, a power point that reads ‘all you need to know about taylor swift’ on the screen. if by the end of the presentation he goes to spotify to listen to reputation, that’s his problem. he spends the entire concert looking at you, he knows taylor is a big deal to a lot of people but he couldn’t care less when he has you smiling and shouting and looking so happy by his side.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

you and max started dating thanks to a taylor swift song, so when he learnt about the eras tour he didn’t hesitate, not for a second, and bought the tickets. it was meant to be a surprise for your birthday but he couldn’t keep the secret and told you the same night. he’s not good at keeping secrets, okay. what’s he’s also not very good at: arts and crafts, so he simply sat down on the couch, pressed play to miss americana and watched you make some friendship bracelets. his favorite was the one you made for yourself with his racing number on it. he spent such a good time at the concert, and got to trade a bunch of friendship bracelets too.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex is a swiftie thanks to you. one day he asked you who she was, the next one he was being introduced to the whole taylor swift lore. it was only fair that he stayed up all night trying to buy tickets to the eras tour with you. alex spent the weeks leading up to the concert listening to you talk about how excited you were. and if he’s honest, he was excited too. taylor is a big part of your life together and knowing that you two share it and can enjoy it together makes him feel pretty lucky.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

who was more excited to go to the eras tour… you or daniel? hard to say, really. he cries during all too well, even though he doesn’t admit it, he has something in his eyes right at that moment; believe him. daniel gets a lot of compliments for his outfit and goes viral, because what is a formula one driver doing at the eras tour wearing a sparkly suit? daniel doesn’t care about anything but to enjoy with you and kiss you when she sings lover. and love story. and enchanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick is like a puppy. if you tell him something, he’ll do it right away. he can’t say no to you, not when you have those big and pretty eyes looking at him with that look that has his heart melting. mick is very nervous the day of the concert but when you ask him what’s wrong he just tells you he’s excited. you don’t ask again because next thing you know taylor’s on stage and the whole stadium is going crazy. when taylor sings ‘he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring’ everyone around you goes crazy, and when you look to the left there he is, your boyfriend, kneeling on the ground with his pretty smile and a ring.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

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lxclerc · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓

SUMMARY: if charles can't value what's in front of him then carlos is more than willing to take on the role. REQUESTED: yes but it's for a personal friend. WARNING: kinda toxic carlos, unrequited love, asshole carlos (not towards the reader), a little bit of angst, SMUT, 18+, oral (f receiving), mean carlos, slight corruption kink (blink and you'll miss it), overstimulation, spitting, lost of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex, fluff PAIRING: reader x carlos sainz, reader x charles leclerc WORD COUNT: 6.6k

NOTE: this was meant to be much much longer but i decided to cut it into 2 parts. part 2 will lead to eventual threesome with carlos and charles. let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

part 2: call out my name

masterlist

The first time Carlos met you, he knew you were off limits. Always following Charles around with that same lovestruck look in your eyes, your body coming alive whenever the monegasque touches you. Your affection for him is written all over your face.

“We’re just friends,” Charles is always quick to correct whenever anyone assumes otherwise. “Best friends,” he’d add as if that made it better and Carlos would watch the way your face would fall, lips slightly quivering as if you’re about to cry on the spot.

Frankly, Carlos thought it’s a waste. Why are you, whose incomparable beauty and wit, is settling for a man who very obviously doesn’t return your affections? Do you enjoy making a fool of yourself? Do you enjoy the pain?

Carlos has very few bad things to say about his teammate, getting along with him so well he’d even consider him a good friend but one thing is for sure, Charles is an idiot for not claiming you given the first chance to do so. Can’t Charles see the longing looks and lustful gazes frequently thrown in your direction, Carlos’ along them?

Though he supposes he should thank Charles for handing you to him with a pretty little bow, for letting you slip through his fingers so Carlos can snatch you right up.

But Carlos bided his time. Charles is Ferrari’s golden boy, their walking god. The prodigal son he’s called. Il Predestinato. The Chosen One. Carlos is the newest member of the team, one with much more to prove. Charles may very quickly deny speculations between the two of you but his claim all over you is still evident. In the way he touches you, the way he keeps you firmly by his side. Carlos had far too much to lose by immediately creating tension within the group.

He’s a patient man. He can wait, plan and plot. And so apart from the usual hellos when you meet each other and the mandatory polite smiles, he stayed away from you, choosing instead to always keep a watchful gaze on your figure whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He’ll play the game and he’ll play it well. He’ll wait. He’ll wait patiently knowing that by the end of it, it’ll be you puny on his palm. And it’s not like you notice, far too busy over your unrequited feelings for the monegasque to even look in his direction.

In his time watching you, Carlos learned so many things about you, things not many people notice. He learned your mannerisms, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, what makes you frown and what makes you pout. He knows your coffee order as well as his own and the foods you don’t eat. He learned the things you like and disliked, learning you till he’s got you memorized like the back of his hand, all his knowledge about you being kept safe for when he finally deems it’s time.

It isn’t like his attraction for you is pure though. Carlos wants you in such a primal way, wants to take you, to claim you. He can barely remember the amount of times he’d touched himself to the thought of you.

It seems the universe is on his side though. He hadn’t even needed to do anything to have you falling straight into his arms.

It was after the Bahrain grand prix, the first race of the season with Ferrari taking home a 1-2. Everyone is in their best mood, drinking the night away as celebration for the best opening start of the season. Carlos found you in the nearly empty hallway leading to the bathroom away from the crowd of people. You’re leaning against the wall with your arms wrapped around yourself, cheeks red and wide eyes a little less bright than usual.

You look like a wounded angel in your little white dress, legs and back bare with your hair falling beautifully over your shoulder, shorter strands littering your face. You look breathtaking and Carlos couldn’t not approach you.

And so armored with his usual friendly smile, he situated himself next to you. “Hey.”

You look up at him from under your eyelashes, offering him a smile of your own. You look sad though and he can’t help but hate Charles a little bit for it. “Hey, Carlos. Congratulations on P2.”

Carlos smiles at you again in thanks. “What are you doing here?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. In his drunken stupor, Charles had found a woman to entertain him for the night, all wrapped up in her on the table you shared.

But you only shrug your shoulders and the action made his eyes travel to your collarbone to the V neck of your dress leading to the valley of your breast. Your skin is covered in goosebumps and he noticed your visible shiver.

“I needed a breather,” you say, which isn’t exactly a lie. You need a breather from Charles and his suffocating presence. “How about you?”

The truth was that he followed you after he saw the way you removed yourself from the group, eyes downcast and bare skin so tempting he couldn’t not follow. He ignored your question and instead shook off the jacket he wore, placing it around your shoulder. You smile at him, a little less sad than the one you gave him earlier, as you slip your hand through the sleeves, the jacket being much too big and practically swallowing your body.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, both leaning against the wall. You look a little lost in your head, still hung up over the sight of Charles kissing some girl he just met. For the longest time, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re fine with your place beside him even if he never returns your feelings. Loving Charles has always hurt but you’ve been doing it for so long that you’ve become familiar with the pain, even allowing it to bring you comfort.

Carlos sighs, practically hearing your thoughts as his hand reaches towards you, placing them on your shoulder to force you to face him. For months, he’s watched you torture yourself over Charles from afar but he’s only now realizing that he can’t do it from up close with your sad, defeated eyes staring back at him.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he says and Carlos had to control his breathing as you looked at him like that, eyes so wide and naive, looking so pure and lost. He wants to protect you and ruin you at the same time. “You deserve better, cariño, not a boy who doesn’t know how to treat you right.”

“He’s all I’ve ever known,” your voice breaks a little and he wanted nothing more than to punch his teammate at that moment.

“That doesn’t mean he deserves you,” he says through gritted teeth.

You’re unable to say anything else as you melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his torso and he pulls you to his chest. His arms around you are tight, seemingly trying to keep you together as you break apart.

The two of you stay like that for a few seconds. You don’t cry, which is a good thing because Carlos doesn’t think he can handle that without marching back inside the club and punching the living daylights out of Charles, but you do stay in his arms, your hands clutching at his shirt.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” he says, deciding that the best thing for you right now is sleep. You only nod, lightly pulling yourself away from him.

The bar you guys had went to was just in the hotel lobby, a small place with barely any people and so he leads you out, hand firmly clasped against yours as the two of you ride the elevator to your floor.

“Charles…” you start, voice quiet. “Charles has my key card.”

Carlos nods. “You can stay with me.”

He half expected you to argue but you only nod your head as he leads you to his own hotel room, swiftly swiping the card to open the door, opening it bigger for you. The rest follows swiftly. Carlos lends you clothes to change into after having decided to share a bed. The two of you made quick movements to prepare for bed, the long day had you exhausted and determined to get under the covers.

And yet, as soon as Carlos turns off the light, it’s like all of your exhaustion melted away, finding yourself wide eyed as you stared at the ceiling, his presence next to you pressing against your skin. You’ve shared a bed with a man before, of course. Ever since you were kids till adulthood, you and Charles never had a problem sharing one. But Carlos’ presence is much different from Charles’ familiar weight next to yours. Carlos’ feels demanding, firm. His skin feels a little too hot, causing you to lightly pull down the covers to reveal more of yourself to the chilly, air conditioned air.

It’s a little terrifying. He feels much stronger than you. But it’s also a little exhilarating, your mind daring you to reach forward and touch his skin. He’s not wearing a shirt and you’re tempted to run your fingers through his chest, his jaw, his hair.

“Carlos,” you speak softly, still staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“Can I touch you?”

He doesn’t think you know how your question sounds. He doesn’t think you know how the innocence in your voice makes him want to wrap his hand around your throat. But nevertheless, he nods despite the fact that you can’t see him. “Yes.”

You don’t need to be told twice, shifting so you’re facing him, the darkness bathing the two of you hiding the blush in your cheek as your hand reaches forward, soft pads of your fingers hesitantly placing themselves on his jaw.

Your fingers are cold as it slides from his jaw to his neck, palm pressing against the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. His own hand places itself on your waist, drawing circles on the fabric of his shirt as your hand finally reaches his chest, tracing every bump and hollow curve till you reach his abdomen.

Carlos sucks in a breath, his hand flying to wrap around your wrist, stopping your movement. With the minimal light, he can see the way you looked at him, so so innocent as though you don’t understand why he stopped you.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, amor,” he warned you, voice quiet as he stared into your eyes.

But a pool had started in your panties and for the first time that night, you actually feel alive. You wanted more of him. You want him to make you forget. “Make me forget tonight.”

Carlos groans at your words, cursing in Spanish that you barely had the time to decode before his lips are on yours, climbing on top of you as he holds your wrist over your shoulder. You moan into the kiss, trying to pull your hand away to be able to touch him again but his body is firmly pressing you against the mattress, knees keeping your legs open.

“Carlos,” you whine, desperate for some sort of friction as you rut against him.

“Don’t whine.” His voice is low and demanding, full of authority as his lips sucked on your neck, finding a sweet spot that had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. He’s sucking and biting, flawlessly marking up your neck as you all but fall apart under him.

“Please,” you mutter breathlessly, still pulling at your wrists. You’re desperate to be touched, trying to create as much friction as you wiggled under him.

“Please what, angel?” Carlos mocks. He’s waited for this for far too long to be nice now.

“Please touch me,” you don’t even hesitate, Charles being the farthest thing from your mind with Carlos all over you.

“Where can I touch you, niña bonita?” his words rushed through your veins, close enough to feel the thump thump thump as he pressed his lips against your jaw, planting open mouthed kisses

“Everywhere,” you breathe out and Carlos grins, finally letting go of your wrist, giving you free reign to run your fingers through his hair as he makes a quick effort to rid you of your – his – shirt.

“Are you sure?” He asks again, wanting to be absolutely positive that this is what you want to, that you aren’t just letting your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, Carlos, please.”

And who was he to deny such pretty pleas?

His lips left a path of destruction everywhere he touched, the burning sensation of his breath against your skin going straight to your core. Eventually, he reaches your nipples, tongue swirling and fingers pinching the other. His teeth marking all over your breasts as he continued his trail down.

“Stop me,” he tells you as his fingers pull the garter of your panties. “Stop me or I won’t be able to stop, baby.”

“Don’t stop,” you quickly say, writhing under him. “God please, don’t you dare stop.”

“You don’t have to call me god. My name is just fine,” he mutters against your skin as he pulls your underwear down. If this is the only night he gets with you then he’s going to make sure to ruin any other man for you. “Thought you were a good girl, baby. Always looking so innocent.”

His lips pressed against your clit, tasting the honey that seeped out of you, causing you to shudder as he situated himself between your legs, elbows pushing your legs apart. His tongue flats on your clit, swiping a lick as you moan out, fingers clutching desperately at his hair, a chorus of pleases and Carlos tumbling out of your lips. He doesn’t think there could be a much better sound as he pokes his tongue into your entrance, your tight walls pushing him out.

Your body is arching up as he sucked at your clit, making Carlos place his arm around your stomach, pushing you back down as his other hand gathered your wetness, spreading it all over your folds before slowly pushing in, a cocky grin on his lips as your moan grows louder.

His tongue and fingers worked together, one slowly pumping in and out of you as he let you adjust and his lips sucking into your clit. He swears he’s meeting his creator as you come into his mouth, voice becoming strangled and your back once again arching as you scream his name, loud enough that Carlos hopes everyone in the floor can hear it. You sound angelic and sinful all at once.

“One more, pretty girl,” he tells you. “Tan bonito como este,” he tells you, watching as you shudder with each swipe of his tongue. You’re far too gone to even care about what he’s saying. “Y todo mío.”

Your fingers running through his tousled, demanding him to keep going and to stop at the same time, the faint taste of iron on your tongue as you bite your bottom lip, soft angelic melodies of his name escaping your lips. He sucked harder, wrist working faster as he added another finger in, pumping in and out of you at a much faster rate than he had a while ago, working to bring you to your second orgasm of the night, one he knew you needed but in reality, he needed more.

"That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Carlos groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.

“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for you to submit to him, to beg to his name as if he’s your newfound religion.

It’s an ego thing as his tongue carved Sainz on your clit with the promise of making you his. His kisses stamped your inner thigh, teeth gently nibbling on your skin as he marked what’s his. You don’t know it yet but you’re his. Once he’s done with you, you’ll never want another man again. His tongue slipped inside you, his finger now tracing his name.

“Can I… can I come please?” Your voice is shaky and broken as you ask him, full of obedience that he didn’t even have to teach you as you so easily surrendered yourself to him and his control. In that moment, your body belonged to him and you both knew it.

“Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this good,” he demands, your cum dripping from his lips. It takes effort for you to even comprehend his words and much more to force your eyes open as you meet his hazel ones. His efforts doubled in speed and strength, your screams becoming louder as he pushed you to the edge.

You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’reexperiencing, your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he tells you softly as he crawls over to your side, brushing the hair from your face and placing his lips on you. Your body is motionless against his as you climb down from your back to back orgasm.

“Open your mouth, cariño,” he says, gently tapping at your jaw. You comply as he spits into your mouth, the taste of you now present on your taste buds. You’re quick to swallow, making Carlos grin at you. Your undeniable submission to him gives him a kind of satisfaction.

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” He asks softly, hand on your cheek a deep contrast to what his fingers had been doing to you a few moments ago. “Do you want to stop?”

You shyly shake your head. Carlos thought you looked most beautiful like this, so incredibly ruined for him. “I’m not- I haven’t–” you start, stuttering over your own words.

“Speak up, cariño,” he tells you and your cheeks heat up even more.

“I haven’t…done it,” say finally, voice increasingly getting shyer with each syllable.

For a minute, Carlos was frozen, not having expected your admission. You’re twenty four years old after all, he had expected you to at least have some experience, but he knows you’re telling the truth from the light blush on your cheeks as you all but hide your face to his shoulder, touching him so surely as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

He could feel himself melting a little, your shy smile and red cheeks so adorable that he couldn’t help but smile back at you as he wraps his arm around your naked figure, pulling you closer towards him.

“We don’t have to,” he assures you. “We can just go to sleep now.”

“I want to,” you’re quick to say, placing your chin on his shoulder. “I was saving it for…”

For Charles. You don’t bother finishing your sentence, you both already know. The sting in his chest is instant, a reminder that you’re not his, at least not fully.

And then the pride rolls in. You’ve saved this for Charles for years, probably rejecting a multitude of men along the way and yet you’re so willingly offering it to him now, with no hesitation and no question with the monegasque the farthest thing from your mind as you stared up at him with those big eyes of yours.

Before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again, whatever little softness his kiss carried a while ago is gone now. He’d never let you go, not when he’s already got a taste. There’s no way he’s ever letting you go now, not when you’re holding on to him like that, nails digging on the skin of his back, naked body pressed against his.

And if he does lose you, if another man gets to touch you after him, he’ll make sure to ruin you for them. He’ll make sure it’s him on your mind every time, his name you’re begging to scream out.

You’re warm. Tingling with anticipation threaded into your nerves and heat. And you feel your body throbbing all at once as Carlos claims your mouth. Your hands are eager, pulling at the shorts he’s still wearing, a whine at the back of your throat.

“Carlos,” you breath out, needy all over as he takes his time marking your skin.

“What did I say about whining?” He asks, immediately getting you to shut your mouth and instead settling for biting your lower lip.

Still though, Carlos does as you ask, pulling away from you in order to remove his clothes. You gulp as you watch his unbearably hard cock reach his stomach. He was carved by god himself you’re sure. No mere mortal can possibly look as beautiful as he does now in all of his naked glory, chest perfectly refined, hair tousled and back and arms littered with scratches.

Heat travels to your cheeks once you realize you’re staring. You try to avert your eyes but Carlos is crawling back at you, hands cupping your cheeks as he all but forces you to meet his eyes. “You can stare, Amor. I’m yours to look at.”

His declaration ignites a blazing warmth in your chest, giving you the courage to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you in order to once again connect your lips. He’s yours. He’s yours. And you’re his. You’ve never felt this alive before, never quite felt like this before. Not with any man and not with Charles. You’re his. You know that now.

“You’re beautiful,” you mutter to no one but the world as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw.

Carlos only hums as his lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your sensitive skin, your hands traveling to his hair and tugging lightly.

“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.

Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. All your thoughts overwhelm you, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. You just want him. You need him.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Carlos to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you, your hips accidentally move against him making him groan.

“Didn’t take you for the needy type, angel,” Carlos teases and you want to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already. You needed him so badly but you know doing so will result in nothing. He’s going to kill you with anticipation, have you begging for his touch.

“Carlos,” you beg, wanting to cry with unmet arousal. “Please. Need you so bad.”

“Shh,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

His lips travel to your breast, greedily claiming your nipple with his mouth. His tongue circles your most sensitive nerve, making you let out another moan. You whine as your cunt starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips to halt your movements, causing a whine out of you as he pushes your hips against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again. Finally, he slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, hand coming up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel his other wander all over your body making you breathless already.

You feel his cock momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.

“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Carlos pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”

You need him so bad and you’re getting impatient as you feel him press kisses all over your neck, being much gentler than you know he’s used to. He’ll have his way with you eventually but for tonight, your pleasure and comfort is all that matters. Panting, you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his.

You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly as you become desperate with need.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock in order to relieve yourself some tension. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh fuck,” Carlos rasps, reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock to your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads himself around your slit, where you’re still dripping for him.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Carlos swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervor, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his as you writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already.

“Are you ready, cariño? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.

You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“Please, Carlos,” you stutter, your body trembling even more.

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer fold sliding his cock teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine out of frustration.

You want to beg him to do something again as he leans down to line up his cock with your entrance, your legs trembling under him with a mix of nerves and excitement. Carlos slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break.

You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big, stretching your walls. It feels as though your organs are moving around to give him space with how full you feel. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he’s made for you and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I just need a moment,” you mutter, breathless.

He smiles as your eyes are drifting close, both so full and exhausted at the same time.

You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size, your lower lip between your teeth as you open your eyes again to look up at Carlos’ beautiful sight above you.

“Please move,” you beg.

He nods quietly and starts by thrusting into you slowly, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to pleasure as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“So tight,” he groans.

The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, making you gasp as he thrust into you faster and harder, pinning you against the mattress and taking full control of your body.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Doing so so good for me. Eres tan perfecta.”

You whimper as his lips move back up against your own as he kisses you passionately.

At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point inside you that has you clenching like a vise around his cock. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, back arching as he keeps thrusting into you, the feeling of him repeatedly hitting your most sensitive spot causing a loud noise you’ve never made before escaping your lips, a strange cry of his name.

“Fuck,” Carlos muttered against your ears, feeling your walls clenching around him, letting him know that you’re close. “You’re so loud for me, angel.”

“God.” You’re lost in pleasure, tears streaming down your face as you desperately claw at his skin. Whatever pain you were feeling before is lost now as you all but float in a cloud of lust.

“Hold it in, baby,” he demands, tongue licking your tears away as his hand pushes your hair out of your face, wanting to see you fully as you reach your high.

“Please, Carlos,” you sobbed, squirming under him. “Need to…need to come please.”

His thrust doesn’t stop or falter, getting harder and harder as his hand grips your waist. There would surely be a bruise of his handprint there tomorrow but you’re far too gone to care. “Look at you so desperate to cum on my dick. Who’s making you feel this good, angel?”

“You!” You cry out, more than willing to pledge your life away to him at this point, the only thing that matters is your release. “Only you! Please, Carlos.”

“That’s right. Only me. Sólo yo.” Carlos smirks at the sight of you under him, so completely defenseless. “Go on, baby.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you spasm under him, losing control of your body. Your vision is hazy as you ride out your high, your body out of your control as your nails dug to his skin, teeth buried on his shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure quite like this.

You feel his cum shoot inside your walls as his body slightly relaxes on yours. He’s barely broken a sweat, his stamina completely phenomenal, but he knows you’re spent and after tonight, you deserve a break, especially considering it’s your first time. And so with that, he gently pulled out of you, making sure not to put anymore pressure on your tired body as he dropped to the place next to you.

Despite your clear exhaustion though, there’s no hesitation in your movements as you turn to him, breathing shallow. Placing your seemingly heavy head on his chest, you throw your arms over his stomach. Carlos’ breath hitched. He had just fucked you, made you come three times and yet somehow the action of you so naturally cuddling to him had his heart racing.

“You did so good,” he told you gently, arms more than welcoming, immediately wrapping around you. “Are you okay, niña bonita?”

“Yes,” you mumble, voice hoarse from all the screaming as you bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck. “Tired.”

“Sleep,” he told you softly, lips planting a kiss on the top of your sweaty hair as he pulled you closer towards him.

You let out a hum, already drifting off to dreamland with your naked bodies pressed against each other, not an inch between the two of you as you tightly held on to each other.

—

The next time you saw Carlos was the next day as you climbed into Ferrari’s private plane. Nearly the entire team is hungover, half asleep as they lugged their baggage, you along them but for an entirely different reason.

As soon as you stepped into the plane, the Spaniard's eyes were on you and yours on him. You wore the jacket he lent you last night over a simple shirt and jeans, opting to wear something comfortable for the flight rather than something stylish. He, on the other hand, still looked breathtaking in a simple buttoned up shirt and jeans, hair tousled as he watched the way your cheeks turned red.

Charles, far too tired and sleepy, barely noticed as you disappeared from his side as you all but made a beeline towards Carlos.

“Good morning, angel,” he greets you, heart soaring at the obvious way you seeked him out, not even hesitating to leave the monegasque’s side in favor of his. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you admit, still with a nervous tone to your voice as you take the seat in front of him. “But worth it.”

As Carlos reached forward to lightly push your hair back, his touch now so familiar, you missed the way Charles searched for you upon noticing you’re no longer next to him. You also missed the look of pure jealousy in his eyes, one you’ve longed to see for as long as you can remember. But Carlos hadn’t and for the first time, Charles saw a version of his teammate he’s never seen or expected, one that’s very obviously staking his claim on you, eyes challenging Charles to fight back as you lean into Carlos’ touch.

Carlos didn’t have to say it but Charles understood anyway.

Carlos is a patient man and he played the game so well, biding his time properly and it had all paid off so well, everything falling perfectly into place as the sight of you next to him became a common occurrence. You often wear his shirts after nights in his hotel room, meeting up with Charles for breakfast only to practically reek of Carlos’ cologne. He’s all over you even when he’s not around, his imprints on your skin, his scent all over you, reminding Charles that he’s lost a game he hadn’t realized he was playing.

And when he is around, it’s not like Carlos is trying to hide it, an arm always around your waist or sometimes hands on your hips. This time though, it’s Charles that’s watching. He watches as the Spaniard touches you so easily as though he’s done it a thousand times before. He watches as you’re quick to relax against his chest, your soft easy smile painting your face and a certain glint in your eyes that Charles knows so well.

Carlos, as Charles is beginning to realize, is a pretty fucking great liar. When they’re together with the team, talking cars and strategies or with the marketing team, doing challenges and interviews, it’s like nothing’s ever changed, both of them still so close. The only noticeable difference now is that you’re rarely on Charles’ side. Instead, you choose to always be by Carlos’, barely sparing your childhood best friend a glance as you stare at the Spaniard as though he hangs the stars and the moon.

Eventually though, the unsaid stare off they often shared comes to a close. It had been during the spanish grand prix with Charles naively thinking he’s doing his teammate a good deed by knocking on his door before the marketing team comes and nags him about a video that needs shooting. Charles didn’t want them to be late and he didn’t want Carlos to have to stand for a lecture.

But when he opens the door, not having bothered to knock, thinking it’s just another boring weekend before a race with Carlos on his phone like the thousand other weekends before that.

Charles couldn’t be more wrong though because instead of the sight of Carlos engrossed in his phone, you're laying on his lap, the dress you wore bunched up around your waist and your eyes shut close as soft moans escaped your lips. Carlos has a hand holding you in place while another is busy assaulting your cunt, three fingers deep inside you, pumping in and out at such a brutal pace that has you biting your lower lip till you can taste blood, tears dripping down to your cheeks.

Charles is frozen in place, the sight of you so open, so perfectly spread for Carlos, caused him to swallow deeply. He can hear the filthy sound of Carlos’ fingers leaving your cunt only to unrelentingly push back in.You’re far too gone to even notice his presence, your fourth orgasm on Carlos’ fingers having completely drained your body as you keep taking more, but Carlos looks up at Charles, the pace of his fingers disappearing within the lips of your cunt never stopping as he raises an eyebrow.

The smirk pulling at his lips brings Charles back down to earth, forcing himself to look away from your naked body as he spun on his heel, shutting the door behind him.

Charles can feel his heart racing, his pants suddenly much tighter than it had been minutes ago. The sound of your moans keeps repeating in his head, completely distracting him from the tasks at hand.

After fixing his erection, Charles finds his way back to the hospitality, reuniting with his media aid as he tries to shake the sight of you whispering and messy on Carlos’ knees.

“Where’s Carlos?” One of the Ferrari people asks him, but Charles only shrugs, not quite sure if he’s able to use his voice.

A few minutes pass as the team waits for Carlos till the Spaniard finally emerges from his drivers room, hair messy and lips swollen. No one but Charles seems to notice though and the memory of you on his lap haunts Charles as he meets his teammate’s gaze, smug and proud as he runs his hand through his hair.

Carlos claps Charles on the shoulder, mischief clear in his hazel eyes. “Finders keepers, right?”

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Shades of Grey || CL16 {3}

Summary: Things get worse before they get better. Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four ||

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave without a goodbye,” Charles whispered to the quiet as he took your hand and kissed the top of it. “I didn’t mean to leave you.”

You looked down at your hand though you still stood near the door and swore you could feel his palm in yours just like when you held his hand under the stars. You ran your thumb over the empty space where he had a callus from repeated weight lifting in the gym and he jumped in his seat.

“Did you…” He shook his head and sighed before chiding himself. “Arthur thinks you might be able to hear me, and I think he’s crazy but I don’t know, I guess I just need to get this off my chest.”

You stepped closer as his voice dropped even quieter. “I can’t go another minute without telling you how I feel. I wish I told you how I felt before you-“ his words were lost to a sob.

“I’m not dead, Charles,” you said quietly as you stood at the foot of the bed. “I promise I’m going to find a way back to you.”

“Come back to me, please,” Charles begged as he dropped his head to the scratchy hospital sheet that was draped over you. “I can’t bury another person I love. I can’t do it. And I love you, so fucking much and it kills me that I never told you.”

The heart rate monitor beeped rapidly and Charles’ head shot up as an alarm started to blare. The door behind him was pushed open and the nurse entered with Arthur and Pierre hot on her tail.

“What is it?” Charles asked on the edge of hysteria. “What’s happening?”

The nurse ignored him as she looked at the monitor and saw the sharp increase in your heart rate. “Something stimulated her, what were you doing just before it jumped?”

Charles looked at the other guys before scratching his neck nervously. “I was just talking to her.”

Pierre cocked an eyebrow at the explanation, knowing how his best friend acted when he was not being completely honest.

“I think it’s safe to say she can probably hear you,” the nurse said with a small smile. “This is good. It’s a very good sign.”

She left with a print out of the readings, quietly excusing herself to update the doctor and when the door sealed shut Pierre turned on Charles. “Right, tell me the truth.”

“What?” Charles asked as he looked away from the pointed stare and back to your face, your eyes still closed.

“Did you kiss her?”

“What!” Charles snapped his head around. “I’m not a fucking creep. What kind of question is that? I just told her…that I love her.”

The monitor spiked again and Arthur shifted closer. “Say it again.”

You leaned closer too, wanting to hear those words on his lips over and over. Charles’ cheeks were burning red and buried his face in the mattress beside your hand.

“Or kiss her,” Pierre offered before shrugging innocently as Charles lifted his head enough to glare at him. “Worked for sleeping beauty.”

You paced around the room wondering how you could get yourself to wake up when your attention was drawn back to Charles’ quiet words.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Is he serious?” Pierre aimed at Arthur who just shrugged. “Bro, she’s been following you ‘round the paddock since we were kids. She wouldn’t give the rest of us the time of day.”

Charles looked to his brother for confirmation and Arthur nodded. Charles’ shoulders dropped in defeat and he reached out slowly to you, gently brushing his knuckles down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the ghost of his touch on your skin and you sighed with longing. The tenderness was everything you had wanted to experience, but not like this.

“Woah,” Arthur gasped as a low sound escaped the tube in your mouth. “Nurse!”

The heavy sigh had been heard by them all and you would have been embarrassed by the sound except Charles' eyes lit up with hope.

“Where the hell is the nurse?” Arthur frowned as he looked to the door. “I’ll go find her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Pierre said as he started to follow, “you get lost more than Charles.”

The sun was starting to reach for the horizon and cast a myriad of colour around the room, the shadows growing with each passing second. Charles was staring at you completely absorbed as he searched for any other sign that you were there.

“I’m trying,” you whispered as you concentrated on making anything happen. “I’m trying.”

“I know it’s your birthday and you’d normally make a wish, but if you could make mine come true I would spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I would give anything to talk to you again.”

He suddenly shifted in his seat to pull his phone from his pocket and he dialled your number from memory. A muffled vibrating started on the drawers beside the bed and he frowned as shifted from flowers aside to find your phone plugged into a charger. A surprised laugh erupted as he saw what you had him saved as in contacts and he shook his head.

Chuck The Clerk.

It had been a running joke between the two of you after some reporter had called him Chuck and a fresh tear ran down his cheek as the call went to voicemail.

“Hey, sorry I missed your call but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Charles cleared his throat before the beep began and he inhaled deeply. “It’s me. Uh, Chuck.” His laugh was a broken sob and he pressed a hand to his trembling lip as he fought to regain his composure. “I just called to hear your voice. God, I miss it. I miss you.”

His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his phone when the answer phone beeped as it ran out of time. A second later your phone beeped with a new voicemail and he picked the device up, the screen lighting up to reveal the background image.

The photo had been taken at the pre-season testing where the new drivers and old met properly for the first time. Charles turned the phone on its side to see the picture of all 20 drivers lined up and bit his lip as he saw that everyone was facing the photographer, everyone except you and him. You had turned to find him already staring at you and your smile had widened.

“You did it,” Charles had called out just before the camera clicked, capturing the pride on his face.

There were thousands of other photos in your gallery, dozens and dozens of them with Charles in them, but that was a favourite and it had been your wallpaper since that first week in Bahrain. There might have been 18 other people in the photo but you only saw Charles.

The screen went black as it turned off and when he clicked the lock button to wake it up it asked for a passcode. His fingers keyed in your birthday but it vibrated at the incorrect pin.

“Wrong birthday,” you murmured as you reached out to brush down a wayward strand of hair before remembering you couldn’t touch him.

His fingers hesitantly tried another sequence - 1 6 1 0 9 7 - and he fell back in his seat as it unlocked. He stared at the home screen and chewed on his lip, his knee bouncing with indecision before he locked it again and shoved it back between the flower arrangement.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised softly and placed his hands back on yours to keep them busy and to stop himself from reaching for your phone again. It wasn’t his place to go through the pictures, no matter how much he wanted to see more of your smiles. The pictures in his phone would have to be enough, and the knowledge that you had set his birthday as your passcode.

He stared out of the hospital window as the sun went down and sighed. “I should go.”

Panic hit you at the thought of being left behind in the dark void again and you threw yourself at him, reaching for his hand before it could leave yours. You tumbled forward as you fell through him and right onto your lifeless body in front of him.

His skin was warm to the touch as your fingers wrapped around his wrist and he froze as he stared at the hand that had been limp only a moment ago.

“Don’t go,” you begged as your heart hammered in your chest and the monitors set off another alarm.

“Help! Somebody help,” Charles screamed as your throat convulsed around the tube.

“Don’t leave me,” you kept trying to plead but the darkness was heavy and it was suddenly harder to speak.

More voices filled the room and Charles’ hand slipped out of yours.

“No, no, no, come back,” you screamed, your hand falling from the bed weakly as it tried to find him.

“Let me go, she needs me,” Charles growled but his voice faded away and your hope went with him.

Pierre gripped his shoulders and kept him pressed to the wall, out of the way of the doctors filling the room. “No, she needs them. Let the doctors do their job.”

“Why did you bring me here?” he asked weakly as he sagged against Pierre. “Why couldn’t you just take me to the airport?”

Pierre held his friend up, taking his weight when he nearly collapsed from the grief. “Because you would hate yourself if you didn’t see her again.”

Charles flinched and screwed his eyes shut as he fisted Pierre’s shirt shaking his head as if it could block out the alarms that erupted as the ventilator was disconnected. As much as it hurt to hear the incessant beeping it was nothing compared to the dread he felt when the room fell silent.

“No, no…” he whispered as the machine was turned off and his legs failed him.

“I’m sorry,” Pierre choked, realising there wasn’t going to be another soft whoosh of air breathing for you.

“Charles,” Arthur called as he reached blinding for his brother, slapping his chest until Charles looked up angrily. Arthur wasn’t even looking his way, he was fixated on the doctors, no not the doctors. He was staring at you.

Your throat burned and the fire spread to your lungs as you drew in a shaky breath. Pain lacerated your back and a whimper escaped your dry throat, reigniting the burning as you lifted your hand and tried to ask for water. Your hand dropped weakly back to your side and your vision blurred under the harsh lighting.

You couldn’t make out any of the shapes moving around you and each blink felt like rubbing sandpaper over your eyes but a familiar warmth filled your hand and you focused on that feeling. The pain in your body receded as the hand clasping yours picked it up and Charles came into focus as his lips pressed to your palm.

You swallowed in an attempt to wet your throat but you ended up coughing until Charles took the small cup of water a nurse had prepared and he lifted it carefully to your cracked lips. The cool water soothed the burn and you sighed at the instant relief, squeezing Charles’ hand in silent gratitude.

His eyes were brimming with tears when he squeezed your hand back. “You came back.”

You shook your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck. “For you,” you rasped weakly, not recognising your own voice.

“For me?” he asked as he leaned in closer like he had misheard you.

“You…brought…me back.” Your lips ached as they curved into a small smile and exhaustion tugged at your mind. You couldn’t go back to sleep, not when you needed him to know how you felt. “I love you too.”

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