augustgrace · a day ago
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Grace Kelly Lockscreens
like if you save/use
credits: @graceandfamily and @gracie-bird <3
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thechicane · a day ago
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Vittoria Marzotta on his way to victory at the 1952 Monaco Grand Prix for Sports Cars in a Ferrari 225S. What a shame we’ll never see vistas like this, even at perhaps the best preserved circuit.
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royalchildreneurope · a day ago
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Happy 65th Birthday to Princess Caroline of Hanover -January 23rd 2022.
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ifreakingloveroyals · 2 days ago
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Happy 65th Birthday Caroline Louise Marguerite! (b. 23 January 1957)
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spideyanakin · 15 days ago
Hymne à L'amour (Part 1)
Charles Leclerc x Monegasque princess!Reader
Part 2
Listen to Hymne a l'amour by Edith Piaf
^ you can find the English version (called if you Love me) sang by her or other rly cool artists. I chose to translate the lyrics directly from the original version (im a native french speaker 😏) rather than use the English lyrics. Just bc I thought the french lyrics felt stronger and it worked well w this fic :)
Requested by - anonymous // Reader who is the Princess of Monaco and dating Charles? Also they show up together at Monaco GP and all fans go crazy especially when she gives him trophy when he wins.
Authors note - this is not at all accurate to the actual monégasque royale family, I took a shit tone of creative liberty. Also thank you @illicitlimerence-writes for helping me figure out the plot :))
Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️
Charles Leclerc Masterlist 🌻
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In all truths, you hated high society.
The constant reminder that every single little thing you did was looked by the media.
You couldn't dress a certain way, put your hair like you wanted. You could barely go out with your friends. Relationships were hard enough, imagine being royalty. It meant commitment. Boyfriends couldn’t come and go, if you really loved someone they would have to go through the pressure of becoming a royal.
In a nutshell you felt trapped in a box.
A box where Formula 1 seemed to be the only escape. The one thing that you loved that your royal life wouldn't tear away from you. It was part of the culture, part of the Monégasque life.
You vividly remembered the first time you watched a race. You might have been 6 or 7 - all dressed in your pretty perfect little princess outfit.
You watched with admiration as all the cool cars flashed in front of you, people cheering and screaming at them. You looked around the stands and spotted people with a multitude of different colored caps, shirts and banners - the sight making you smile.
"Who are you cheering for dad!?" You tugged on your fathers pants who grabbed you and held you in his arms to reply. He looked at the track and waited a few seconds before answering you.
"Do you see this red one?" He pointed to Schumacher's Ferrari who passed so fast you barely caught sight of it.
"Yes." You nodded.
"That's who I'm cheering for." He bopped your nose which made you giggle.
The next thing you remembered is standing as still as you possibly could in between your parents. Watching in admiration as your father grabbed a beautiful trophy from a big Louis Vuitton case and handed it to the driver all in red who was standing in front of him.
When the driver you now knew as Schumacher smiled to you, you smiled back - a sudden feeling of wanting to be a formula 1 driver flooding you.
But those dreams were quickly crushed.
A princess couldn't be a formula 1 driver - what would people say?
If you couldn't become one, you were glad you were at least allowed to like it.
As you grew up, you found yourself handing trophies to the drivers so much It had even become a tradition. The yearly headlines of how cute little you was holding the big trophy to hand it to the race winner only stopped when you became a teenager.
The headlines had changed into
'Tradition stays, Y/n of Monaco hands the trophies once again'
And every time it was the best weekend. The highlight of your year.
On the other hand, Charles always had an eye on you. Whether it was seeing you when you made public appearances, or when you handed formula 1 trophies. He always seemed to spot you, either from the streets of his beloved city, from his friends’s apartment window when he was still a kid watching the race and getting a view of the podium. Spotting you at the cinema with your dad. Or more recently, from the bright red Ferrari paddock.
The first year Charles joined the team, he was jumping on his heels at the thought of meeting you. You walked into the paddock to greet your favorite team, your bodyguard closely following behind.
"How are you?" You cheered at Sebastian Vettle who you greeted with two kisses on the cheek.
"I'm great! How are you?"
"Great as ever." You smiled before smoothing the fabric of your designer outfit. One you actually liked this time.
"Y/n!" Binotto cheered and you handed him a smile.
You got into a small conversation, talking about the hope that Ferrari had with their car, and how he had hopes with his new driver. Talking about the new Ferrari driver, Charles stepped into the paddock, the top of his racing overalls still hanging low on his hips as he walked to ask Binotto a question.
What he didn't see was - you.
"um hey I had a questio-" He stopped in his steps the second he met your eyes.
Fuck. You were even prettier up close.
The girl he had spent years crushing on was standing right in front of him, a bright smile plastered on her face.
The worst part was that she wasn't even only his crush. She was the freaking princess of Monaco.
Sebastian chuckled when he saw the way Charles froze mid sentence.
"Charles, meet our number one fan. Y/n." Sebastian placed a hand on your shoulder.
Charles was still frozen. He didn't know if he had to curtsy or say something special upon meeting you. You seemed to spot his confusion and giggled.
"You don't need to bow or anything, Charles." You smiled. "Can I call you Charles?" You asked for confirmation with your eyes and he nodded, too scared of stuttering if he replied with words.
You knew his name
"Well it's nice to meet you, Charles." He thought he was going to die at how his name sounded on your lips.
You took a step forward to greet him with the usual two cheek kisses, his entire self screaming as he realized who was kissing his cheeks.
"It's so amazing having a Monegasque driver." You smiled, Charles feeling instant longing after your hand slipped off his shoulder. "I was so happy when you signed with Ferrari."
"Y- Yeah. Thanks." He managed - his cheeks instantly becoming scarlet red at your compliment.
"I'll be cheering for you." You winked, confidence suddenly flowing through your veins.
You thanked the years of training to stay still for events. Because you were internally screaming. You had been following Charles's career for years, as he was one of the rare successful Monegasque drivers. You had always wanted to meet him, but what you didn't know was how more handsome he would be in person.
On the other hand Charles became even more desperate to win this race. Not just because he would be the first Monegasque driver to win a home race in the history of F1. But suddenly, a feeling of wanting to impress you and receive a trophy that your beautiful hands had touched seemed to flow in him.
The rest of the day seemed to go well. You stayed around in the paddock, greeting a few other teams and answering a few questions from the media. But you always kept an eye on the young Ferrari driver. Your heart skipping a beat when ever you'd find him already staring at you.
But unfortunately qualifying didn't go well.
After a problem with his car he had to retire and he was left fuming in the paddock.
He grabbed his water bottle and chewed at the straw in stress. Every year in Monaco was a disaster, and he was so mad it took everything in him to not scream and take his rage onto his car.
"Hey I'm sure the race will go well tomorrow." You smiled when you spotted him, removing your soundproof headset.
"You think?" He looked at you and you gulped at the beauty of his stare.
"I'm sure of it."
But the race did not go well.
Your heart shattered at the sight of him. He dropped his helmet and unzipped the top of his suit. Crashing on the first seat he saw.
This was his home race, and he never seemed to be able to finish one.
This wasn't fair.
"You know Monaco is not the only race of the season." Your soft voice seemed to bring him back to his senses. He opened his eyes and met your glance, sudden warmth feeling him at your sight.
"But you don't hand the trophies of the other races."
"You've got a point." You smirked and sat next to him. "But don't bring yourself down. I'm sure you'll win a race in Monaco soon, there's always next season." Your hand traveled to his shoulder and he instantly melted under your touch.
"Will you be handing the trophies then?"
"Of course!" You chuckled. "Every year."
"Then I'll look forward to winning."
You didn't know how or why but for a few seconds you felt like it was only the two of you in the whole world. Your eyes were set on each other, and none of you wanted to look away.
Your breath hitched at the thought of him being so close to you, and you could feel your heart beating in your ears at the way he looked at you.
Then you had a thought.
"I heard there were a few parties tonight." Charles wasn't blind to the mischievous way your eyes sparkled. "I'd love to meet you at one."
"That- that would be nice." Charles thought his brain was going to glitch.
“What’s your number?” You wondered as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket, opening the contacts and placing your opened phone in Charles hand.
Charles’s finger flew faster than they ever had, rereading his number at least ten times to make sure he had it right.
You smiled when you saw his contact. “Here, so you have my number.” You sent a message to him, smiling when the message passed through.
“I have to go.” You looked at your watch. “I have to get ready to hand the trophies.” Your smile reflected the fact that you hated leaving him, or having to give a trophy to another driver. “See you tonight.” You winked, leaving a dumbfounded Charles behind you.
And after that night of partying, you and Charles had become inseparable. In such a small amount of time you had become best friends.
Best friends who were deep in love with each other.
Flash forward to December. The cold air of Monaco had made you shiver, the harsh dry winds of the Eastern south side of France making you tighten your coat around your shoulders.
You smiled as you checked your phone, a text from Charles wishing you a happy flight to Paris. You thought what to reply as you walked the small steps that led to your private jet, sending him some goofy gif before putting your phone in airplane mode and back in your bag.
Sitting down on the fancy seats, you let your head rest, closing your eyes as your thoughts traveled back to Charles.
Somehow you couldn’t stop thinking about those green eyes. His cute grins and goofy smiles. He was so comfortable around you compared to most people around your age. Even Pierre had trouble speaking proper sentences when he was in front of you.
Most people out there seemed to forget the human behind the mask of royalty. But in a way Charles made you forget all that. He treated you like a normal person, but making you feel so special at the same time.
Somewhere deep inside you, you wanted nothing but to tell him that you maybe wanted more than friendship. To tell him how in love with him you were, and kiss his lips until your lungs were out of air.
But you weren’t even sure if he liked you back. And even if he did, you couldn’t bring him into the swirl of royalty. You knew Charles and you knew that he didn’t mind living life in bling, but you also knew all the things that came with being a royal, and joining the royal family. All the expectations and codes. Even if Monaco was a small place, you loved Charles too much to put him through this.
You loved him too much to put him through the pressure of getting married and having heirs. Always expecting him to behave his best, make no mistakes.
The package that came with the relationship wasn’t something you could bring yourself to put on his shoulders.
You realized you had fallen asleep when your bodyguard woke you up telling you you had safely landed in Paris.
Mumbling a thanks and checking the clock, you quickly shook sleep out of you and got ready to leave the plane. Checking yourself in the mirror you got ready for the mass amount of paparazzi who would be waiting for you at the airport.
The classic Parisian gray sky made you smile a little. It changed from Monaco and you liked it. Paris was always an escape from royal life. An escape where you felt a little freer from the crown’s clutches.
Arriving to your hotel you were greeted with a stylist and a make-up artist. They had already settled in the room and laid out what you would wear - it just made you feel a little more like their barbie doll rather than you - but you pushed that thought away.
You smiled a little as you dropped your coat and sat on the vanity chair, and before you knew you were ready and all set to go to the FIA ceremony. You had no clue why they wanted you to hand out some of the prizes, you didn’t even know which prize you’d hand - but won’t one last look at yourself in the mirror, you took a shaky breath trying to get the speed of your heart to slow down.
Charles was going to be there, all handsome and you’d have to hand him an award.
Arriving there you had managed to calm yourself down.
Maybe it was the way Charles couldn’t stop staring at you, or the familiar faces and bright smiles that danced across the room.
You stood on the large stage, giving your most charming smile as you held the trophy in your hand, trying to remember the lines you had rehearsed before coming here.
It was something simple, something to reward Charles for this year’s performance.
The whole room clapped and you watched as your new favorite person walked up the stage, the eye contact between you too never breaking.
You embraced him, grinning from ear to ear as you did.
“i know it’s not the grand prix trophy, but hopefully this is the first trophy of many i give to you,” you whispered.
“God, I love you so much" he smiled as you handed him the trophy, you felt your cheeks burn up, leaving you wonder if he meant it as a friend or something else.
But the night went on, leaving you with this thought.
People smiled, talked and went on about how great this season had been for motor sports in general.
Max had passed by and you had chatted with him, but somehow Charles was always by your side. Being exactly where he should be when the whole after party turned into a dance floor.
Asking if you wanted to dance with him, the answer was too quick to leave your lips.
And before you knew it, his hands were on your waist, and yours around his neck. The upbeat music making you chuckle as you weirdly danced, making goofy faces at each other.
Maybe it was the champagne or the way his eyes were making you go dizzy, but you felt so much courage, you felt like it would be impossible for you to let go of him.
But after a few songs the whole vibe of the room changed. The bright music came to a stop, and of course how could you forget where you were.
City of love, city of lights.
City of Edith Piaf.
There wasn’t one Parisien event where she wouldn’t be given an homage.
And well you didnt expect the DJ to choose her second most famous love song after la vie en rose, especially play it while you were in Charles’s arms.
You especially didn’t expect the lyrics to be hitting so hard.
When the first few notes started playing you gulped. Raising your stare to face his green eyes. The fact that he was already looking at you took your breath away for the millionth time that night.
You thought you were going to collapse right there, but then the thought of his hand on you was too hard to pull away from.
You tried to read his eyes, you both knew what this song was about.
Hymne a L’amour
A hymn to love
Somehow, you didn’t need to speak a single word, because the moment spoke for itself.
‘Le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer’
The blue sky can fall onto us
‘Et la Terre peut bien s'écrouler’
And the earth can crumble
Your head fell on Charles’s shoulder, and your eyes closed by themselves.
‘Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes, je me fous du monde entier’
If you love me, I won’t care
No words were shared between the two of you, but somehow, you knew that these lyrics applied to you’re relationship.
You knew this song, you had heard it a million times. But being there, dancing in Charles’s arms. It was like rediscovering the song all over again. The words held their own personal meaning now.
It made you think back to your own feelings.
Maybe if you were sure that he loved you back. That he loved you just as much as you did he wouldn’t care for the whole package deal that came with being with you.
‘Tant qu'l'amour innondera mes matins’
As long as love drowns my mornings
That sentence made you slip into an imaginary life you could have with him.
‘Tant qu'mon corps frémira sous tes mains’
As long as my body will shudder under your touch
This brought you back to the way his hands freely sat on your waist. Thinking about how much you’d love for them to roam even more freely.
You stopped yourself right there.
You promised yourself you wouldn’t add more wood to this fire. You were already falling for him and hard, you couldn’t make this more complicated than it already was.
But that damm song.
‘Peu m'importe les problèmes, Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes’
No matter the problems, my love, at least we love each other.
That sentence seem to click something in Charles, because he suddenly changed his movement and grabbed your hand, walking you away from the main room.
The sudden movements took you aback, and you had to take a long second to snap back out of your trans.
Charles looked at you with a look you couldn’t recognise. It was like he had been holding back a world of thoughts and they all came rising through at the same time.
But by the way he looked at you, your eyes probably showed the same crazy spark.
"Y/n, I’m tired of pretending." He huffed.
"What do you mean?" Your voice was so quiet you wondered if he had heard you.
"You know what I mean." before you could reply, he was cupping your cheek and leaned to press his lips on yours.
It was like an explosion in you.
You had dreamed about this for so long and now that it was actually happening your mind had a hard time comprehending what was going on.
But the music from the ball room could be faintly heard. The lyrics barely audible but the rhythm was enough to make you kiss him back with everything in you.
Read part 2
Leave a 🦋 if you want to be added to my taglist :)
@anything-laeli @illicitlimerence-writes
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toastyboi-roastyboi · 8 months ago
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love this absolutely CRACKHEAD press conference
(please give us another soon, thanks :)
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redemptionshoey · 8 months ago
Daniel vibing with the Monaco national anthem
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vonter-voman · a month ago
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Lynda Carter in Monte Carlo, Monaco (1979)
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coolthingsguyslike · 15 days ago
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ferraricharles · 5 months ago
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this is a post to appreciate the countries on the Mediterranean😫
ps: i live here and still i have no idea which country is which they all look the same
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allthingseurope · 2 months ago
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Monaco (by cattan2011)
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thechicane · a day ago
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Untangling the mess after a 1st lap kerfuffle at the 1950 Monaco Grand Prix.
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maloskiworld · 14 days ago
Paddock best friends, Monaco edition 🥂
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australianbeyonce · 2 months ago
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charlotte casiraghi of monaco in the early 00s
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spideyanakin · 12 days ago
Hymne a L'amour (Part 2)
Charles Leclerc x Monegasque princess!Reader
Listen to Hymne a l'amour by Edith Piaf
Requested by - @xeniarocks // Reader who is the Princess of Monaco and dating Charles? Also they show up together at Monaco GP and all fans go crazy especially when she gives him trophy when he wins.
And thank you to @frenchyjuju for requesting and giving me ideas for this next part :)
Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️
Charles Leclerc Masterlist 🌻
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Read Part 1 here
You woke up to the dim light coming in from the lazily drapped curtains. Blinking sleep out of your eyes, you tried to stretch but something was blocking the way.
More like someone.
What in the world happened last night?
The more your eyes adjusted to the light, the more you realized that you were in a hotel room similar to yours. You thought it was probably the same hotel, but different room.
But the real question was who had their arms securely placed around you?
That's when the memories of the night flashed before you.
The ceremony, the dance.
The song.
Charles's lips on yours, his hands freely roaming your body as the kisses escalated. The whispers of love. The way the two of you got into the first cab back to the hotel when you couldn’t hold back the force that pulled you together.
The way you had forgotten every thing that came with your name and threw It out the window just to be with Charles - to get to wake up in his arms, even if it was just for one night.
Just for one night.
That's what you told yourself.
Between the music, the champagne and the way his eyes looked at you with so much love - you told yourself you would let It happen for one night only.
For one night you would get to experience what it was like to be his.
But this morning you cursed yourself for doing so, and you blamed alcohol for the poor judgment.
You hadn't calculated the way his arm would settle around your body. How you would slowly wake up to the sound of his breathing. Something about it felt so comfortable, so natural. You could almost stay like this forever, like you were meant to spend the rest of your life right there, nestled in his arms.
But you had to get a grip.
As much as you wanted to be with him - you loved him too much to bring him through the curse of royalty. Even if he had whispered words of love the other night, and no matter how much your heart was telling you too, you couldn't bring yourself to stay.
As quietly as you could, you slipped out of his embrace - gathered your clothes and grabbed your phone.
You thanked your tipsy self for texting your body guards that you were staying at a friends for the night - or else you would have woken up to a missing princess disaster.
You sighed once you were all dressed up and ready to go. Looking at the man you were so in love with one more time, something in you wanting nothing but to snuggle in his arms and tell him you were his.
But your mind was telling you other wise. Forgetting the classic ‘always listen to your heart’, your hand wrapped around the door handle.
A single tear falling as you realized this might be the turning point in your life. Where you decided if you truly wanted to marry for love and keep Charles. Live the life you wanted. Or leave now and see your entire world turn gray, crumbling to bits. You knew won't be able to see Charles any other way now, that was too late. Your friendship was broken - and it could have either been turned to something more, or in this case something way worse. Something you’d never thought you’d live.
You didn’t know how you were strong enough to choose the second option.
Maybe it was because you loved. That force of wanting to keep him safe.
With one last look, you disappeared into the maze of the hotel halls.
Charles was confused enough to find you missing when he woke up, he was even more confused when you ignored his messages.
Somehow - in his mind, he thought he would been able to wake up by your side, and see how pretty your eyes were in the morning. Giggle your way around what had happened and maybe even express your love for each other.
Wrap his arms around you and kiss every inch of your face until you’d force him to stop. He would have ordered you room service and you would have laid in bed while probably watching old seasons of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. Making sassy comments at the outfits and arguing about who should have won and why.
Maybe even make out some more in between all that, and maybe, just maybe he could even have called you his after.
But that didn't seem to be his luck.
His luck was to wake up to a half empty bed, with no notes and no traces of you but the faint smell of your perfume in the sheets and the ghost of your touch.
Charles ended up going back to Monaco with a brick stuck in his stomach and a hole in his heart. His mind frantically going back through ever thing that had happened.
Was it something he said? Did you just think of him as a one night stand? Was he stupid to think you loved him back? Stupid enough to think he could have a future with you?
Of course he was. You were the freaking princess of Monaco. You didn't deserve him. You were probably going to spend the rest of your life with some fancy monarch like you deserved.
Someone born and raised the same way as you.
Charles's apartment felt somehow more empty when he got back, but maybe it was because of the way your kiss was still ghosting his lips and he knew he could probably never feel them again. Maybe the loss that he felt on the inside was reflecting in his space.
Even the Monegasque sun didn't feel as bright when he hadn't heard your voice on the phone for a while.
You couldn’t say you had a better day.
The storm of messages and missed calls from Charles didn't help the gut wrenching feeling that was munching at you.
With that in mind the second you landed in Monaco you were pushed back into the responsibilities of the crown. The paper work, learning with your dad, weird governing business you somehow had to do.
For a week you were drowned in royal business, and for a little while it made you forget the pain.
It wasn't until you had lunch with your friends at one of your favorites restaurants that you caught his gaze.
The one you had ignored for a week now.
These sharp green eyes that brought chills down your spine as you watched him walk into that same restaurant. When he spotted you, he froze for a second before he handed you a small sad smile. It made you feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and squeezed.
You tried a nod as he passed by and sat beside his brother a few tables further.
You had never been like that with Charles. So cold, so distant. It made you want to throw up.
You missed him so much you wanted to leave your friends - forget royalty and sit by him, hold his hand and maybe mend everything that had been broken.
But you didn't.
You stayed sat with your friends, your back towards Charles. And just like that another week that passed by.
The buzz of pictures of him in Cancun or what ever exotic last minute trip he had planned for himself were passing by your socials. And somehow seeing him happy didn't make you feel better.
But that hole in your heart had to be masked. You had a ball tonight, and you had to look your best as always.
Standing there by your parents, a beautiful blue ball gown with your favorite pearl and diamond crown somehow made you feel a little better. People were dancing and chatting, and at some point you even let yourself smile. Putting you out of your misery for a short while.
The food was also a comfort. The ensemble of cream puffs and sweets seemed to make you forget your self loathing.
You had danced with an old friend, some prince from another European country. And even though it was nice he wasn’t the one whose arms you wanted to be in.
He quickly got a new dance partner, and you found yourself drifting towards the larges opened doors that led to the gardens. Warm winter nights were rare but somehow the weather had been kind, and the air was just perfect enough to cool down the ball room.
You leaned against a wall as you eyed everyone in the room.
From princesses to dukes, it was filled with royals and people of the court.
The pretty dresses and hairstyles warmed your heart, but watching the couples dance or lovingly chat quickly made you fall back down into your spiral.
You tried to find anything to get Charles away from your mind - trying to bring back your cheery front for the guests. But the night wouldn’t have it.
And it only got worst when the band decided it was time to toy with your feelings even more.
When you heard the first few notes, you wanted to fall, scream, cry, punch the hell out of the guy who made the set list.
But instead you were stoic. As still as a tree.
Your eyes hand landed somewhere on the floor and you were stuck in deep thought - the song faintly playing in the background.
You had to close your eyes when the lyrics started.
The fact that they had decided to play Hymne a l’amour, when this song had somehow become linked to you and Charles, and when at the same time you had been mentally torturing yourself over the relationship had to be a joke, somehow. Or maybe the universe just decided to punch you in the gut again.
The more the song went on the more you had to hold back your tears.
"J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde, si tu me le demandais"
I would go to the other ends of the world, If you asked me so
You felt a tear slip by itself, wiping it as quickly as it came.
You would truly do anything for Charles, and this song wasn't helping your internal conflict.
You had to stop denying that you could live your life in a lie. You had to stop lying to yourself about being able to live a life without him.
"Je renierais ma patrie, Si tu me le demandais"
I would renounce my country, if you asked me so
At this point you were silently cursing at Edith Piaf. How dare she right so accurate lyrics? Because in a heartbeat you would renounce the throne, in a heartbeat you would run away with Charles and leave all this behind.
But you couldn’t.
As an only child you were the only heir to the throne. Unfortunately your dad was only child as well. Which meant that if you were to give up your duties, you would strip Monaco from heirs and it would be turned over to France. You were truly stuck.
"Si un jour, la vie t'arrache à moi, Si tu meurs, que tu sois loin de moi. Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes, car moi je mourrais aussi"
If one day, life would tear you away. If you die, or if your far away. Little matters if you love me, because I would die with you.
You couldn’t hear any more of it. Because the tears were now freely falling. You stepped out of the ball room and into the gardens, the cool air barely making you flinch.
You tried to wipe away the tears, but the more you did the more they were falling.
Finding the nearest bench, you decided to make your stop here. Digging your face in your hands as soft sobs escaped you.
The song was right.
If something were to happen to Charles, you wouldn’t survive a single second.
If this wasn’t proving to you that you were meant to be with him, then you didn’t know what did. With this trail of thought, nothing seemed to matter anymore, nothing but spending the rest of your life with him.
You didn’t care anymore, because if you’d let yourself tell him - give him the choice to choose between being a royal or not being with you. At least you would have tried, at least you would have told him. At least you would have done what you could to be with him, because life was too short to live over what ifs.
But it hit you again.
You had been so mean to him. Ignoring him and leaving him to wake up alone back in Paris.
Maybe things couldn’t be mended? Maybe it was too late.
That made a new sob leave your lips.
"It seems like you don’t really like Edith Piaf” a voice made you jump and put a hand over your heart.
Turning your head and lifting your gaze you realized it was just your dad. He walked towards you with a frown, and sat next to you.
"What’s wrong?" He put a hand on your knee, and you leaned on his shoulder. "You’ve been acting depressed ever since you got back from Paris. And now you left crying. I thought you loved balls?" He frowned
You sniffed instead of answering. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to word your feelings. Like you felt embarrassed even.
"Darling, please." Your dad continued. He shifted so you’d stop leaning on him and look at him instead. "What is it?" All you could see was his sympathic eyes, the ones that were trying to comfort you and it was somehow working. "Heartache?" He hit it right in the first try.
You closed your eyes and bit your lower lip when you felt more tears trying to make their way out. You looked down to your lap, to ashamed to meet his eyes.
"I messed up, dad." You sniffed. "I pushed him away because I was scared. Scared he would leave me the second he realizes what it means to be with me."
He seemed to understand your problem because instead of bringing judgment on the table, he sighed and closed you in a hug.
"Have you told him how you felt?"
"No." You mumbled.
He waited a second before pushing you away from the hug again and putting a hand on your shoulder.
"Here, I want you to ask yourself something."
"What?" You wiped your cheek.
"Do you love him?" He seemed to see through your soul as he asked that question, and you felt your stomach flip before answering.
"Yes." You didn't need to think twice.
"Do you think he feels the same?"
Something in that question made you think. He had told you he loved you back in Paris, but did he really? or was it just the champagne talking?
It made you think back to all those little things. Like the way he brushed your hand in a crowded room to tell you he was here for you. Or the way he would catch your glance when you were anxious. How he would always make sure he would be there for you. Be here if you needed to call him at 3 am.
How his eyes would light up every time you'd enter a room. How his hugs would linger, and how he would make sure you always had enough to eat on days where you were extra anxious. How he asked for consent before taking any further steps in Paris.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Then if he really does, I'm sure you can fix what ever happened."
"You think?"
"Yes. And if he loves you, really loves you, I'm sure he will accept every side of you. Even the one that's full of royal responsibilities."
"Maybe." You played with your fingers before looking up to your dad.
"Worst case scenario we can play bachelorette with the list of monarchs that would love to marry you" that made you chuckle through the tears.
"It's true though." He smiled. "Promise me you'll try to talk to him?"
Toying with the rims of your jacket, you munched at your bottom lip in stress. Lifting your gaze to look at the elevators number go up, up, up.
The doors opened in front of you and you had to hold your breath to be able to step out.
You looked back to your phone, and heard Charles say goodbye to his twitch followers before turning the live off.
Good. He was home and he was free.
You blankly stared at his front door. The dark green door you loved so much. The one where every time you stepped through it you felt just you, rather than the Princess of Monaco. It was one of the rare places in the entire of Monaco you felt human rather than a creation of the media.
It took all your courage to raise your fist and gently knock on the door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t just rang the bell - maybe it was because you were so use to knocking on doors in the castle rather than ringing a bell to enter.
You heard as he shuffled in his apartment. Your heart matching his footsteps as he walked to the door and opened it.
The second it was opened to reveal your form his eyes went wide.
You on the other hand, had to hold your breath. He was looking really handsome. All tanned from his week in the sun, wearing a yellow bandana you had gifted him, his hair going wild behind it. He was wearing one of these white t-shirts you thought he looked amazing in, and his eyes looked a little tired but for you he was still the most handsome man in the world.
"Hey." His traits softened a little and he forced a small smile. But you could see a sad glim behind his eyes that made your heart shatter.
"Hi, Charles." His stomach filled with butterflies when you said his name.
You didn’t share a word. It was like a silent staring contest. Who would crack first? Who would be the first one to burst into tears and declare their burning love for the other?
It had to be you.
You dropped your small bag, or more like let it slip away from your arm. Taking a large step to wrap your arms around Charles.
You felt like it was a miracle that he didn’t flinch away, and instead wrapped his strong arms around you. The door somehow closed by itself, luckily your bag had dropped a cm inside his home.
Charles took a step back into his apartment, with you still wrapped in his arms, trying not to bump into furniture as he did.
"Im sorry." You whispered as a cry fell from your lips. The tears staining his shoulder as they uncontrollably fell. "I’m so sorry." You apologized again, and instead of replying he rubbed comforting circles on your back, putting his chin onto of your head.
It felt so good to be in his arms again. Almost like coming home. And between the overwhelming feeling of guilt that you had broken his heart and the way your two bodies fitted like two pieces of a puzzle, your grip tightened around him and you sniffed again.
You stayed like that for what felt like hours. Just you and him, holding onto one another.
"Hey." He finally broke the silence, pushing you a little away so he could see your face.
"Hi." You sniffed, opening your eyes to see his teary red ones.
"I don’t want to loose you, Charles." You said after another moment of silence. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying again.
"You won’t loose me, Y/n/n. You will never be able too." He somehow managed to give you a sad chuckle. "I understand if you want to stay friends." his voice got quiet.
"I don’t want to stay just friends." That took him aback.
"You don’t?" He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head.
"I don’t" you repeated, more sure of yourself this time.
He looked at you with confusion written all over his eyes. The hands around you held a little tighter, as if you wouldn’t disappear before him and slip away again. Leave him alone to wake up from a crazy dream.
"I want to be with you." You leaned and rested your forehead against his. "And it kills me that I left you alone that morning in Paris." You closed your eyes. "It kills me that I thought for one seconds that I could live without you in my life. That I could leave you out of the clutches of royalty, but I’m too selfish." A new tear had made his way. "Im selfish because I want you, and only you. Selfish because I love you." These three little words coming from you didn’t feel real.
"That’s not selfish." He moved his nose so he’d be touching yours. "That's just falling in love." He sighed. "Being so in love with someone you’d be ready to steal the moon for them."
"Like that Edith Piaf song." You noticed. "Si tu me le demandais, j'irais décrocher la Lune" you quoted
If you asked me so, i would steal the moon for you.
"Exactly like that."
His eyes traveled down to your lips, and without another second to spear he closed the gap between your two bodies. Your lips moving in sync with each other as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist.
At this moment the two of you were determined not to stop. After two weeks of thinking you would never get the luck to do that again. It felt like breathing after being stuck under water, or smelling an old perfume from your childhood.
It felt just right, just where you were suppose to be.
And his lips didn’t leave yours until dawn had shown itself.
This time Charles did wake up with you by his side. Your eyes were already opened and you had been laying next to him, tracing the softest touches to his chest.
His arm went to snake around you, like it should have done that morning in Paris. He moved around so he would be laying halfway ontop of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
"Morning." You giggled as you felt him nuzzle himself even further on your shoulder.
Instead of forming a proper word he groaned, tightening his grip on you.
You couldn’t help the smile that plastered your lips. The hand that wasn’t tangled in his tracing circles on his back.
"Is this a dream?" He asked and you smiled.
"No. This is reality, my love."
"Can you say that again?"
"Say what?" You raised an eyebrow.
"You know."
"M’y love?"
"Yes." You could feel his smile on your neck.
"You’re… i was going to say wide awake but I doubt it." You chuckled. "You’re half awake, and I’m right here, my love. You're not dreaming."
And the rest of the morning went exactly like Charles had longed for.
The two of you making out until you were fully awake and realized you had to get out of bed. He had made you breakfast and you ate it in front of the first drag race episode that popped on your tv.
You complained about how you wanted a certain Drag Queen to win because ‘she had the coolest looks’ while finishing up the pancakes.
The two of you had laughed about nothing and everything. He had even chased you around the apartment after you had sprayed him with whipped cream.
But you couldn’t hide from your duties for ever. A call from the palace’s management team asking you where the heck you were and telling you you had a meeting to get ready for in the afternoon.
It made your stomach twist and you wanted to scream. You were so well in your little bubble of love, that you never wanted to leave.
"What is it?" Charles frowned as he snuggled on your side.
"Call from the palace."
"You don’t look pleased." He noticed.
"I have to go back. I have a meeting this afternoon, apparently."
"Ah" He stood up a little and toyed with your fingers.
"It’s alright. I can come back after."
"You can?" His eyes lit up.
"Deal." He kissed your knuckles and sat up, making grabby hands at you so he would help you stand up.
You giggled as you landed in his arms, Charles peppering you with kisses.
You ended up taking a shower and reluctantly leaving Charles’s clothes to dress back into your less comfortable ones. But your time alone only made you think over things.
You sighed as you realised you had to talk to him. You couldn’t lead Charles into a mess he wasn’t aware of.
"Hey love." He smiled as he put the last dish in the washer, wiping his hands before leaning on his counter.
"Hey." You went to snuggled in his arms, staying like this for a few seconds before sighing and speaking again. "Charles, we have to talk."
"How are we labelling this?" You lifted your head to look at him, and he looked confused and scared at the same time.
"W-well- I was thinking that I consider you as my g- girlfriend now." He stuttered, to scared of your reaction. "But if-"
"Charles." You cut him off "That's exactly the answer I was looking for." Charles breathed a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding. "But you also have to understand what it means..." He told you to go on with his eyes. "If- or I think in this case we can both say when. When this relationship goes further, it means commitment. It means that we will need to get married, and we will need to have heirs at some point. Whether we like or not. And so I want you to know this. Because if you don't want to get married- or- or have kids, I'm not the right person to be with. And in years, when you leave F1 you won't be able to do what ever you like. We might be crowned rulers which means that you'll be stuck with royal duties. And if we hate each other when we're 60 or what ever. Divorce is off the table."
For a second he went silent, assessing you. And the more he was silent, the more your heart was going faster than his Ferrari on a race week end.
"Y/n" His voice was calm. "I’ve always liked the idea of marriage." He smiled, dropping his hand from your waist to hold yours. "And kids sounds like a nice idea for the future."
"You're not saying this just because of me?" He shook his head and you wanted to cry.
"I want all those things, with you and with you only. We won't be trapped, we can travel the world when they don't need us" It was like a weight had left your shoulders. Somehow life made sense now, and somehow all your worries had gone away. "And even if we somehow find a way to despise each other which will probably be impossible, I think I'll still love to be stuck with you forever." That made you chuckle a little.
"You don't like speaking with if's, do you?"
"Not when I'm talking about my future with you."
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
"As long as you love me, I won't care."
"Oh my god, we have to stop quoting Edith Piaf."
"Well you’re coming back um" Your dad paused mid sentence "latearly"
"Latearly?" You raised an eyebrow as you dropped your coat on a random chair and left your shoes next to it.
"So late that it’s become early." He looked back to his paper, and you let out a short laugh.
"You could say that. Yes, latearly"
"I take it you were with that mystery guy?”
"So he lives in Monaco." He nodded in approval.
"He doesn’t just live in Monaco, dad. He’s from Monaco"
"Ok, but can we talk about how much I approve of that?"
"I knew you would." You smirked.
"You think his head is fit for the crown?"
"I think so." You smiled dreamingly.
"Fantastic, so that’s out of the way." Your dad sighed in relief and flipped another page of todays paper. "So when can I meet the future prince?"
"Dad. We just started dating."
"Ok, I'll wait." He grumbled.
"We both know how patient you are." You rolled your eyes and watched as he stopped reading his paper to think. "Isn’t there this one Monégasque formula 1 driver you’re out with all the time?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Charles."
"Is it one of his friends?" You wanted to laugh at the question.
"Im not telling you."
Part 3
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palalabu · 8 months ago
where lando and max let the elderly speaks
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ricciardo-content · 3 months ago
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Memories of redemption day in Monaco 2018 🧡
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marvelsunderoos · 8 months ago
Grand Prix - Tom Holland
AN: for the sake of this story, and me being a fangirl, y/n is Dutch lol. In terms of the whole VIP Formula 1 situation, it makes no sense at all that they would just watch it on a TV but I don’t care. 
Also, Tom’s arms made me feel a certain type of way. 
Warnings: shitty storyline, smut 
Word count: 1385
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“Monaco baby” Tom cheered as you were getting of the plane. It was Grand Prix weekend in Monaco and Tom’s connections had made it possible for you, him, Harrison and Tuwaine to join the race as VIP guests. The weekend had begun very nicely, the four of you chilling on a yacht and just enjoying the moment. That was until the race started and you had made your way back to your hotel and your differences in terms of favourite racers started to show. The British men were all rooting for Lewis Hamilton while you, a proud Dutchie, were rooting for Max Verstappen. 
“Oh, I’d totally do him.” You said laughing while taking another sip of your wine. 
This comment seemed to get Tom’s attention as his arm was wrapped around your waist in a second and his lips touched your ear.
“Bet he won’t make you feel like I do.” He whispered. The effect this man had on you once again became clear after he spoke those words into your ear, a familiar tingling feeling taking over your body. Tom could sense this and as he placed a few kisses in your neck, just below your ear you let out a shaky breath.
“Hey, get a room you two!” Harrison spoke from behind you. You were just about to laugh it off when you heard Tom say something along the lines of ‘gladly’ before taking your arm and dragging you away from the huge tv in the main area of your suite. 
“Hey!” You protested as you walked through the hallway, still wanting to watch the rest of the race. 
“I was watching that.”
“Oh, as I recall we have a lovely view of the track from our bedroom darling.” 
As you made your way into the bedroom, Tom’s arm was wrapped around your waist while the other placed a chair in front of the enormous window in your room. Luckily, you were pretty high up so Tom was right, you did have a nice view.
Tom didn’t hesitate to rip off your dress, leaving a trail of kisses all over your body. Sucking, biting and kissing his way from your ears to your neck, to your breasts, leaving marks everywhere. While his right hand unclipped your bra, the other pulled it off your body and his lips soon found your nipples where his tongue lightly sucked and licked until they were left sensitive and hard.
“Sit.” He demanded as his strong arms sat you down on the chair in front of the window. He kneeled down in front of you, getting ready to pull of your panties when you beat him to it and removed his shirt. His beautiful body never failed to leave you like a mess, his mess. His hands roamed all over your body until they took off your panties in a painfully slow pace. You pulled him in for a messy kiss, soon finding his neck and leaving your marks there as Tom let out some shaky moans. You sucked a little harder, never not having been turned on by the sounds he makes when you make him feel good. 
But Tom hadn’t forgotten your statement and was determined to make you feel good and before you knew it his head was in between your legs, teasing you with light, feathery kisses on your inner thighs, just not quite kissing you where you wanted him to the most. The tension he had built up was killing you until at one point your hands pulled his hair and guided him towards where you needed him. And as soon as his lips connected with your heat, you let out a content sigh and when his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, collecting your juices before landing on your clit, you let your head fall back and closed your eyes. Tom immediately stopped when you did however, and your eyes met his briefly before he spoke.
“Thought you wanted to watch the race, baby” and you nodded as your eyes fell in front of you, watching the track and seeing racing cars pass by. Tom traced his fingers over your lips, and a small tap on them caused you to open your mouth and you slowly sucked his index and middle finger, never breaking eye contact with your man. His fingers softly circled your clit, and a whiny sigh escaped your lips when you noticed he was not going to pick up his speed anytime soon.
“Please, more Tommy.” You whined. 
Tom looked up and softly licked his lips.
“You want my fingers baby?” He asked, a soft smirk on his face telling you that he already knew your answer.
“Please.” You didn’t have to tell him twice as his index and middle finger entered your heat, curling up and hitting your g-spot with every move he made. His fingers were already making you feel like you were floating, and soon his mouth made contact with your clit, softly sucking and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud. 
“Tastes so good darling” Tom softly moaned.
You were a trembling mess, having a very hard time with keeping your eyes open and focused on the window when Tom was making you feel so good. Your moans were unsteady as you could feel you were approaching your high, scratching your nails over his back, begging Tom for more until you came undone all over his fingers.
A soft giggle escaped your lips as you came down from your high and you softly pulled Tom in for a kiss. Your hands found the button on his jeans and you quickly helped him get out of the, undoubtfully, uncomfortably tight jeans. The two of you stumble around in the room, before landing on the bed. You straddle his waist, capturing his lips in a messy kiss before hooking your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down. Your hand finds his cock, slowly pumping it a few times before lifting your hips and you let yourself sink onto his familiar body. You moan as you settle there, your walls stretching around his cock completely.
Tom loved this view, the sight of your naked body straddling him and giving him everything. The way you arch your back when you slowly start to move back and forth on his cock, the way your hands are placed on his chest to steady yourself and your face that radiates pure pleasure. He could look at this all day. Remembering he had promised to make you feel good, he flipped the two of you over and the shift of position allowed him to find a pace in his deep, hard thrusts. 
“Wanna make you feel good baby” Tom moaned as your fingers pulled on the strands of his hair. Your moans were enough to confirm how good he made you feel, the way his cock filled you up just perfectly made you a sweaty mess in the hotel bed. His fingers on your waist, digging into your skin in such a harsh way that they were sure to leave some bruises, but that didn’t matter right now. You could only think about the pleasure you were feeling and the noises that came from Tom’s mouth were enough to distract you from everything else in the world.
You sucked on your fingers and brought them down to your clit, helping yourself get to the edge and you could tell Tom was close too by the way his thrusts were getting slower and less even. Moans filled the hotel room.
“Are you almost there baby? Gonna come for me, all in me?” You asked Tom, looking into his eyes and softly biting your lip.
Tom groaned and nodded, his eyes screwing shut and as you felt his cum unloading into you, your fingers sped up their pace and gave you just enough to push yourself over the edge as well. You rode out your high and Tom soon fell on top of your chest, both of you panting and smiling.
“You do make me feel good.” You spoke softly, causing Tom to smile.
It was at that moment that you heard the Dutch national anthem being played and Tom softly let out a groan at which you laughed.
“Guess Max won the race.” 
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micksebcharles · 8 months ago
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Mick Schumacher on the grid before the Monaco GP.
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coolthingsguyslike · 15 days ago
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