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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

Text

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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imthebadguyyy · 8 months

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Lay All Your Love On Me

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a look back into your relationship pt i pt ii

a/n - inspired by my obsession with the mamma mia soundtrack, enjoy!

"i want to tell y/n that i love her"

while the statement had been easy enough to make, charles hadn't really figured out exactly how he planned to tell you, his best friend, his closest friend, his confidante, and the love of his life that, well, he was so head over heels for you the whole world seemed upside down.

he also hasn't anticipated the reaction he received from his family. his mother of course, was overjoyed that her son was finally telling her unofficial daughter that he loved her. but the person who was the most excited of all was of course, arthur.

when charles told carla and him that he was going to tell you he loved you, arthur let out the loudest whoop he had ever managed to vocally produce in his life.

"FINALLY MON FRERE!" he exclaimed, startling carla, who was just as excited. "mon dieu, calme toi" my god, calm down charles said, suppressing a laugh at his brother's antics.

"how can i calm down?!?! ive been waiting for this day since I was thirteen and realized I wanted y/n to officially be in our family and ever since you have been pining over her like a puppy I am allowed to be excited!!" he shouted, now doing a strange version of the rumba around the yacht.

all the commotion he was causing caught lorenzo's attention, who strolled out with a drink in his hand and charlotte by his side, who had been rudely awoken from her nap by arthur's over enthusiastic celebrations.

"arthur, pourquoi cries-tu?" arthur, why are you shouting? enzo asked, leaning against the railing. "yes arthur, some of us are trying to sleep" charlotte laughed, leaning against the railing as well.

"well, dear enzo, it seems that notre chere frere is finally confessing his undying love and affection for our favourite person" our darling brother arthur smiled widely.

"non, c'est vrai?" no, is this true? enzo asked, genuinely surprised.

"oui" charles smiled, blushing slightly at all the excitement. he hadn't expected the delightful swarm of butterflies fluttering from his heart to his tummy, plunging into the depths of his soul, as he thought of you and the possibility of finally confessing his love for you.

"well that's amazing! it's about time too" charlotte joked with a laugh. "i agree charles, it's been so long that you like her" enzo smiled, clapping his brother on the back.

"isn't this so exciting? now y/n can finally offically be the third sister in our trio!" carla exclaimed excitedly, already making a billion plans on how the three of you would bond. she already shared a very close bond with charlotte, and had always held a soft spot for you.

charlotte also was very fond of you, and pascale had once joked that charlotte was your big sister and you were carla's. she has secretly hoped to see all three of you as her daughter in law's one day, and finally, she thought her dream was one step closer to becoming a reality.

"so how are you going to tell her?" arthur asked, crossing his arms, deep in thought.

"i think i know exactly how, but i need your help in convincing her to join me. she's been distant... and i don't know if she'll want to see me at all" he admitted.

"of course she will, she loves you so much" enzo said, having picked up on your affection for his brother at an early age. enzo had also secretly hoped that you and charles would get together years ago, having seen the both of you joined at the hip since you were six.

but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a hint of protectiveness towards you. after your father had passed, you had turned to enzo as a leading figure in your life, and he had stuck with you through thick and thin. as much as lorenzo loved his brother, he also knew his dating history wasn't the prettiest.

so it only seemed natural that once the excitement had died down in the slightest, he took charles aside for a talk.

"charles, i'm very happy that you've decided to take this decision, truly i am-" he started, but charles cut him off.

"je sais ce que tu es sur le point de dire, que je n'ai pas la meilleure histoire en matière de rencontres avec des femmes et que je ne suis pas vraiment un très bon petit ami. mais enzo, je te promets que je ne pourrais jamais lui faire de mal, jamais. je regrette sincèrement toutes les erreurs que j'ai commises, et je ne peux pas imaginer ma vie sans y/n à mes côtés, non seulement en tant qu'amie, mais en tant qu'amoureuse et partenaire pour la vie, si elle veut bien" i know what you're about to say, that I don't have the best history with dating women and that I am not exactly a very good boyfriend. But enzo, i promise that i could never ever hurt her. i truly regret all the mistakes I've made, and i can't imagine my life without y/n by my side, not just as a friend, but as my lover and partner for life, if she'll have me. I swear i try my hardest to be the best I can for her, always" charles said, emotion brimming deep in his eyes.

lorenzo took a second to respond, pondering over his brother's words thoughtfully.

"je te fais confiance. elle mérite le meilleur dans la vie, charles. elle a traversé des moments difficiles et a passé de nombreuses années à cacher ses sentiments pour toi. je l'aime profondément, et elle est tout aussi importante pour moi que tu l'es. j'ai besoin de savoir que tu ne lui feras pas de mal, car je refuse de la voir souffrir à nouveau, d'accord ? mais je sais que tu es un homme bien, le meilleur frère que je puisse avoir. alors, fonce. mais s'il te plaît, pour son bien, sois le charles que nous connaissons."

i trust you. she deserves the very best in life, charles. She has been through tough times, and has spent many years hiding her feelings from you. i love her greatly and she is just as important to me as you are. i need to know that you won't hurt her because i refuse to see her in pain again, okay? but i know you're a good man, and the best brother i could ask for. So go for it. But please, for her sake, be the charles we know"

charles nodded, understanding reaching out to pull his brother into a hug.

"je l'aime. et je ne te décevrai pas non plus." i love her. and i won't let you down either, charles murmured, and lorenzo clapped him on the back again. "i know. you deserve happiness, the both of you" he said, and with another quick hug, he left charles with his thoughts on the boat.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

unbeknownst to charles, you were still stuck in a state of misery, believing your best friend, who was incidentally the man you were hopelessly in love with, was never going to love you back.

the harsh reality of that thought had been best expressed in the studio, and you found yourself writing song after song about unrequited love, and about the pains of falling in love with your best friend.

jack antonoff relaxed in his chair, stretching after almost six hours straight of recording and producing your latest heartbreak melody. you were forever grateful for him, and his endless patience with your indecisiveness and emotions.

he had been so understanding about your emotional dilemmas, spending many a wine drunk evening listening to you ramble and helping you convert it into beautiful songs that had you in tears.

"i think we should definitely release this one" you mused, headphones on and listening to the song you had just finished recording.

"i think we should record all 142 songs we've made but yes, this one is...something special" he admitted.

"but is it too obvious? is it too vulnerable? am i leaving the door open to criticism and hate and negative reviews? it's nothing like what we usually make but it's.. it's something I need to share" you admitted, half to jack and half to yourself.

"look, you are at the height of your career and your music has been nothing short of phenomenal. of course people will comment, of course you're being vulnerable, but isn't that what we do? isn't that why we write music? isnt it because we need a healthy outlet for our emotions, so you can express yourself?" he asked sincerely, and you found yourself nodding.

"yes..." the hesitation was still there. vulnerability didn't exactly stem from the music, but rather, from the fear of what charles would think. surely he would connect the dots and realise it was about him? surely he would notice that his best friend was singing soft croonings about her undying love for him, and how badly she longed for him? surely so many years of friendship meant he had a passageway into her mind and heart? surely, right?

"my father once told me 'the fear of vulnerability is a fortress we build to shield our hearts from the unknown', you told jack, eyes looking beyond him to the view of the blue sea out the window, "and i think that's why i feel this... nervousness. ive spent almost a decade being in love with my best friend, and putting out a song like this? people will speculate. i don't want to ruin his life..." you trailed off, insecurity seeping into your tone.

"i understand. but you're not ruining his career. yes, people can speculate but you don't need to confirm or deny those speculations. the media can be cruel y/n. we know that. but we don't stop that from doing what we do best" he said, and you nodded.

"okay. next week" you said.

"thats soon" jack said, adding the finishing touches to the song.

"one day or day one" you said, standing up to make the call to your team.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

liked by charlesleclerc, billieeilish, lilymunihe, lewishamilton, charlotte2304, bellahadid and 2,706, 587 others

@yourinstagram - someone like you. out now.

tagged - @jackantonoff

user12 : oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

user 13 : MAAM YOU CANNOT KEEP DROPPING BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE SINGLES AND EXPECT US TO BE OKAY 😭😭

user 77 : her voice, the piano, the high notes, the production - jack and y/n are the most elite singer producer combo ever

user22 : idk why but i get the sense this song is about charles? i mean "i heard that you've settled down" i mean he isn't married but she's clearly insinuating a relationship that she wishes she had with someone she loves and is close with... and who is her best friend..it's charles leclerc... "old friend" seems so fitting

-user23 - you're delulu (i believe you)

-user16 - let THEM COOK

user23 : she looks STUNNING

user65 : why does she look like a GODDESS and an ANGEL

lilymunihe : crying in a walmart parking lot because you're voice is a wonder you are a wonder your skills are a wonder and i love everything about this and u

-@yourinstagram : 🥺 lily i love you. thank you for being such a wonderful friend. forever by your side.

kika.gomes : baby u are a wonder. your voice has me mesmerized. i love u so much. forever in awe of u and your wondrous talent 💗

-@yourinstagram : kika i love u so much 🥺💗 thank you for always supporting me. love u to the moon and back. please come and visit soon!!

-kika.gomes : on my way

-lilymunihe : wait me too omg lemme book a flight

-carmenmundt : alright me as well

-user40 : not all the wags being best friend with y/n 😭😭

carla.brocker : oh y/n this is so beautiful... i'm so proud to call you my friend 🥺 je t'aime 🫶🏼

-@yourinstagram : je t'aime carla 🩷

arthurleclerc - so proud of you, grande soeur, love the song 🩷

-@yourinstagram : love u thur.

charlesleclerc : magnifique, ma belle.

-@yourinstagram : merci charles 🥰

-user12 : usually she's.... much more enthusiastic about his comments

-user44 : babes if i wrote a song about my best friend and he was dense enough to not know and congratulate me id say merci too smh

-user30 : a charlesyn interaction after so long im so happy 😭

leclercpascale - tu es quelque chose de spécial, mon chéri. je t'aime toujours ❤️ you are something special my darling, love you always

-@yourinstagram - merci maman 🥺💗 tu es mon plus grand soutien, j'espère te voir bientôt you are my greatest supporter, i hope to see you soon

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

charles had been with joris and andrea when he had opened instagram to see your post.

"y/n's released a new song" he said, and joris quirked an eyebrow. "right now?" he asked, settling into charles' plush couch, flicking through to open apple music on the tv.

"yes, it's called someone like you. play it please" charles said, pulling a bowl of watermelon closer to the table.

the only sounds in the room were the munching of the watermelon and joris clicking the remote when charles picked up his phone, ready to send you a text after listening to your song.

the opening notes of the piano filled the room, bringing a soft smile to his face as a favourite memory creeped up into his thoughts.

you were sitting on the piano still, fingers playing random keys as you figured it out. at the age of 8, you had decided you wanted to be a singer and wanted to learn all the instruments you could. you were already playing guitar that you're dad was teaching you, but your fascination with the piano has always remained.

"charles i can't do this" you whined, throwing you head back, sighing at your best friend who was flipping through a safety guidebook for karting.

why not, you're smarter than i am" he said, earning a giggle from you. "you're smart too charlie" "alright alright, ive seen arthur play, let us try and figure it out"

hours later, herve and pascale returned home to find you and charles deeply engrossed in figuring out chords, trying to sing along to la vie on rose by edith piaf. the both of you had your tongues stuck out in concentration, working together to figure it out.

it brought a smile to their faces, knowing you'd always have each others support.

as charles registered the sound of your voice floating in, he closed his eyes, leaning back to enjoy the music, before he was whacked with a cushion.

"idiot, écoutes-tu correctement la chanson ?" idiot, are you listening to the song properly? joris asked, having caught on to the meaning before charles.

"yes, i am" charles said, rubbing his head in confusion.

"lei sta cantando di te." she's singing about you, andrea said, shaking his head at charles' slow reaction.

"qui?" charles asked, taken aback.

I heard that you're settled down

That you found a girl and you're married now

I heard that your dreams came true

Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you....

Never mind, I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you, too

"Don't forget me, " I beg

I remember you said

"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

"she's clearly talking about you! cmon charles, we all know you've both been head over heels for each other since we were kids. and look, it's all there, she even says old friend! how much more proof do you want" joris asked, exasperated.

"but-but- what does she mean by nevermind? i was going to tell her.." charles trailed off.

"then tell her soon, charlito, before she tries to move on. you deserve to tell her your feelings because she likes you too" andrea said, the usually quiet man genuinely cared about you as well, and knew of charles deep love for you.

"you're right. ill call her over tonight" charles said, nervous springing to life in every part of his body.

the anticipation grew as he realized that their connection could shift that very evening taking on a new dimension.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

charles rushed to send you a text, at the same time he set about setting the yacht up. he had decided to sail the both of you to the cove you discovered as children, to enjoy a dinner of carbonara and red wine, which had been a favourite for the two of you. he made sure the yacht was stocked with bottles of wine and champagne, and even got the ferrari team chef to cook for the both of you.

he set about setting the table just right, with candles and roses and his finest crockery and cutlery. he set the flowers on the table and glanced over at the bouquet he had for you, along with the present he intended to give you later.

he had also taken the time to curate a spotify playlist for the both of you, that was already playing softly in the background.

he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. in fact he hadn't felt this nervous since his first ever f1 race.

the nerves before telling someone you love them felt like a symphony of butterflies fluttering within his chest, a captivating mix of excitement and trepidation. his heart races, and every word he'd rehearsed a hundred times running laps in his mind.

he opened your chat to read the texts he had sent you, in an attempt to slow down his beating heart.

charlie ❤️ : cherie, je me demandais si tu voudrais me rejoindre ce soir sur le yacht pour dîner. j'avais envie de passer du temps avec toi. i was wondering if you'd join me on the yacht tonight for dinner? I've been wanting to spend time with you

you : tonight? id love to. is there anything happening?

charlie ❤️ : no, just wanted to spend some time with my dearest friend who i haven't seen in forever.

you : sorry, cherie, ive been busy :(

charlie ❤️ : thats alright amour, im just messing around. but is it okay if i ask, are you mad at me?

you : what, no?

charlie ❤️ : it's just...you've seemed a little distant and i can't point out why and i was just wondering if maybe i upset you?

you : oh not at all my sweet boy, ive just been preoccupied, thats all. we'll talk at dinner?

charlie ❤️ : of course cherie. see you then 🩷

you : see you 🩷

charles had blushed at the mention of "my sweet boy" and had also made up his mind to talk to you about whatever was bothering you. but he had a feeling he knew what it was about.

nevertheless, he paced back and forth as the sun began to set, casting the perfect golden hue on his boat. and just as the golden rays bathed monaco, you appeared like an angel, dress fluttering in the wind as you made your way to charles' yacht.

the sight of you took his breath away, hair billowing in the wind, your dress floating too, and the golden hues making you sparkle. you looked ethereal, like an angel descending from the heavens.

his angel.

as you reached closer to the yacht, charles walked up to you, offering you his hand to step in.

you took it with a smile trying not to blush at how handsome he looked. he was wearing a baby blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black pants. his hair looked tousled from the wind, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with happiness at seeing you. you found yourself unable to suppress your smile, cheeks hurting from the wide smile on your face.

you had to admit, although you were trying to stay away to protect your feelings, you were happiest when you were with him.

"hello cherie. ive missed you" charles was the first to speak, pulling you into a hug.

you lingered in the warmth of his embrace, relishing the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne. you hoped he wouldn't notice how you were so desperately trying to keep yourself together, to prevent yourself from melting into the man.

charles wasn't able to keep it together either. he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your perfume, which he recognised to be the ysl libre he had got you hooked into. he felt the most comforted and safe in your arms and your embrace, and so the both of you stayed like that for a moment longer, revelling the company of each other.

when you finally broke away, your heartbeats had increased and a giddy happiness has taken over the both of you, as charles led you to the table he had set for the two of you.

"oh wow... charles you didn't have to do all this! it isn't even my birthday" you laughed, taken aback at the sweet gesture.

"i just wanted to spoil my favourite girl a little" he said, throwing you a wink that had your cheeks heating up and your heart fluttering in your chest.

"well i won't say no to that" you giggled, and then laughed as he pulled your chairs for you.

"oh my what a gentleman. who would believe you once tipped me in class for trying to take your seat" you said, throwing him a smirk.

"hey i didn't trip you, your foot was just in the way" he chided, grinning at you.

"mmhm, for sure. what about the time you dumped red paint on my hair because you were upset i 'stole' thur from you? or the time you put gum in my hair? or the time you coloured over my poster of queen because you were tired of me singing bohemian rhapsody around the house?" you laughed back, watching him bury his face in his hands with a groan.

"cherie please don't remind me of what a terrible child i was" he whined pouring you a glass of wine.

"you were lovely. you just didn't use your brains at time" you smiled, and he rolled his eyes at you.

"you weren't an innocent angel either. what about the time you hid my remote control ferrari because I was giving it more attention than i was giving you?" he said and you squealed with laughter.

"i was a pretty needy friend, i admit" you giggled, and charles chuckled as well.

a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, broken only by charles serving you some carbonara.

the pair of you couldn't stop smiling at each other and you couldn't imagine how strange it would look to a stranger but you didn't care.

"ive missed you a lot" charles admitted after a beat of silence.

"ive missed you a lot as well" you sighed, twirling your pasta onto your fork.

"then why did you go radio silent for a while cherie?" he asked softly, and you noticed the flash of hurt in his eyes.

you sighed, looking beyond his green eyes to the sunset behind you. monaco always looked beautiful in the evening and at nightfall, and you took a moment's respite in the gorgeous colours, before turning back to face your best friend.

"i just needed to get away for a bit charles, focus on my music" you said, partially truthfully.

"but you focused on your music here too mom coeur" he said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. "was it me? did I do something?" he whispered, not knowing how to tell you he realised what he had done.

"oh no, charles, no you didn't i- i just.. i needed some space and im sorry i didn't tell you I was going to LA" you said, heart breaking as you took his hands in your own.

"no i understand you needing space but I was just surprised you left in a rush, we haven't spoken in so long" charles said, running his thumb over your knuckles.

the anticipation grew, as the both of you looked deep into each other's eyes,silent apologies shared between the two of you.

it was a moment of vulnerability like no other, where the both of you prepared (unbeknownst to the other) to bare your deepest emotions, risking it all for the chance that the other might feel the same way. yet amidst the nervousness, there was a sense of hope, a glimmer of anticipation, because you both know that what you were about to say had the power to change your lives forever.

"i have to-"

"i need to-"

the both of you spoke at once, eliciting giggles from each other.

"you go first" you whispered, keeping your hands interlocked, not wanting to let go.

"okay" charles whispered back, before taking a deep breath.

"y/n, ma cherie, ive carried these feelings for you like a secret treasure, buried deep within the chambers of my heart. today, i have managed to find the courage to unearth them, to let them shine as brightly as the stars that have witnessed our shared moments. you've been the compass of my life, guiding me through storms and sunshine, and in the quiet spaces between our laughter and shared dreams, my affection for you has grown into something I can no longer contain.

it's not merely friendship that binds us, but a love that transcends boundaries. your smile brightens my darkest days, and your laughter is a melody that dances through my soul. your kindness and understanding have been the pillars of my strength, and your presence, a soothing balm to my every wound. with each passing day, my love for you has deepened, filling every corner of my being.

ive hesitated for so long, fearing that these words would jeopardize the beautiful connection we share. but, ma cherie, i cannot deny what my heart knows is true.

i love you.

not just as a friend, but with a love that defies definition, a love that cherishes your essence, your flaws, and your dreams. i want to be more than a friend. i want to be the one who holds your hand through life's journey, the one who shares your triumphs and cradles your sorrows.

i know this is a lot to take in, and i understand if it brings uncertainty or fear, because i have felt the weight of those emotions. but amour, i don't want keep this truth hidden. love is too precious to conceal. whether you choose to embrace it or not, know that my love for you is unwavering, and no matter what you feel, I'm telling you that ill always be there. I've known you since we were children, scraping our knees and colouring with each other, to teenagers with dreams we shared and hopes we talked about to adults who are still the best of friends.

it would be an honour if you reciprocated these feelings mon amour, and im sorry if this is too much. but i love you. and i had to let you know" charles concluded, drawing a deep breath at the end of his long confession.

you felt shock seeping through every bone in your body, but a warm shock that lit up your soul and made you feel like you were floating. tears rose to your eyes, glimmering and glistening, dripping softly down and charles moved to wipe them away softly.

"oh charles, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words. ive loved you for as long as I can remember and I love you, i love you so much. ive always known that what I feel for you is more than just friendship.

the words you've spoken, the feelings you've unveiled, they've stirred the deepest corners of my soul. In the tapestry of our friendship, ive discovered a love that has blossomed silently, mirroring the beauty of the most delicate of flowers, unnoticed until it's in full bloom. it is not just my heart but my very essence that loves you and I'm so thrilled by your confession my love.

your smile, the warmth of your laughter, the strength of your kindness—these have been the foundation of my happiness for so long. and now, i can finally tell you that my heart has danced to the same tune all along. all those years of pining have finally come to fruition and im so glad you told me this. i had to go away because i couldn't bear to see you with someone else, and as selfish as it sounds, i needed an escape otherwise i would have gone raving mad.

i love you charles. id want nothing more than for us to have future together. i love you more than i can put into words" you confessed, tears streaming down your face as you regarded the man in front of you.

charles too, had tears in his eyes, and the utmost love and adoration in his eyes. never had he ever looked at you like that before, as if you were the sun moon and the stars.

"je t'aime cherie, je t'aime" he whispered, pulling your knuckles to his lips to press a kiss to them.

"je t'aime ma vie" you whispered back, basking in the warmth of the moment.

"papa would be so happy" charles admitted, pushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "you know, he once told me that he and uncle theo also wished for us to get together. finally their wish came true" he smiled and you felt a new stream of tears run down your cheeks.

"papa told me too, when he was ill, that you and i belong together. mama tells me even today" you said, sniffling softly.

charles moved so he could help you out of your chair, leading you out to the deck.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close as you let your head drop onto his shoulder.

"can I kiss you?" he whispered, hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

"please" you managed to breathe out, before feeling his soft lips press against yours, just as they had when you shared the salty kiss under the playground slide, but this time it was deeper, more meaningful and full of love.

his hands slipped to your hips, one pulling you in so close you were almost moulded into him, while the other gently caressed your cheek. you let your hand rest on his waist, and the other on his neck, softly pulling him closer.

he deepened the kiss, gently sliding his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft gasp from you as he traced delicate patterns on your back.

the kiss only grew more urgent and charles let his hands wander, frantic to feel you, years of longing piling up and finally spilling out.

when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, you finally broke apart panting, still cocooned into each other, chests heaving together.

"ive been wanting to do that for ages" charles panted, pressing soft kisses to your face and forehead, making you giggle when he kissed your nose.

"I've been wanting you to do that for ages too" you said, earning a laugh from him. you settled back down against his shoulder, feeling full of love and ready to burst with how happy you were.

"i love you y/n" he said, sincerity clear in his tone. "i love you too, charles" you whispered, pulling him back down for another kiss.

against the skyline of monaco, you let your eyes close, comforted by the man whose arms you were in, relishing the feeling of being so deeply in love with someone who loved you back with so much passion.

in that moment, love felt like the gentle whisper of two hearts, sharing their secrets beneath the starry canvas of the monaco sky.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

back at pascale's apartment, arthur bounced his foot impatiently, looking out to the window at the sea.

"do you think he's told her yet?" he asked lorenzo, who was patiently reading a book on the couch.

"i don't know arthur i haven't heard anything" he replied, chuckling at his brother's impatience. "why is it taking so long' arthur whined, looking at the clock.

carla rolled her eyes at him, "thur, let them be, they're going to be all romantic and emotional and I'm sure they'll tell you soon" she said just as patiently, earning a smile from pascale.

"I'm sure charles will tell us soon cherie" she told her youngest soon, patting him on the head.

charlotte laughed from the corner, "i don't know whose more excited, charles or arthur" and the room burst into laughter.

"we have all been waiting for this day for ages" lorenzo said, smiling around at everyone.

"your papa and i always knew this day would come, and so did theo and laura. we had hoped they would get together" pascale said softly, a gentle smile on her face.

the group took a moment to reminisce on all the pining they'd had to endure.

the silence in the room was broken by the sound of lorenzo's phone ringing and he picked it up when he saw charles contact.

"salut frère, l'as-tu fait ? lui as-tu dit ?" hello brother, did you do it? did you tell her lorenzo asked and arthur leapt over the couch to hear what charles said next.

"oui" charles smiled, and chuckled when the room descended into chaos.

arthur was whooping, charlotte and carla were offering congratulations and pascale was smiling so brightly, telling her son her congratulations as well. lorenzo laughed and congratulated his brother as well, before telling him they'd give the new couple some time before the entire family descended upon them.

he knew charles would appreciate some time and that y/n would too.

"okay let's go see them and-" arthur began before carla laughed and tutted him.

"amour, laissons-leur de l'espace aujourd'hui, d'accord? nous pouvons aller les féliciter demain." love, let's give the two of them some space today okay? we can go and congratulate them tomorrow

grumbling a little bit still super excited arthur accepted defeat and started bidding goodbye to the family.

one by one they all left, leaving pascale with a bright smile on her face.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

liked by charlesleclerc, kika.gomes, gigihadid, taylorswift, lilymunihe, bellahadid, and 9,808,765 others

@yourinstgram - only about a decade and a half in the making but finally told the love of life that he's the love of my life. je t'aime ma vie ♥️

tagged - charlesleclerc

charlesleclerc - i love you, mon cherie, thank you for making me the happiest man alive.

-@yourinstagram - i love you too ma vie. forever yours ❤️

-charleslecerc - forever yours ❤️

user38 : HOLD THE FRONT DOOR WHAT THE FUCK

user87: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL CHARLESY/N NATION RISE

user33 : oh my god oh my god they're finally together im crying MOMMY AND DADDY

-user13: the duality 😭

kika.gomes : so happy for you two!! finally no more pining 🙄 double date soon? ❤️ love u bbg

-@yourintagram - thank you kika, i love u too babes and OMG YES double date

lilymunihe : baby you deserve the whole world and im so happy for u both. love to you always but you're still mine 😘

-@yourinstagram : ofc honey

-charlesleclerc : hey

-alexalbon : hey

-lilymunihe : babe no look away

-pierregasly : alexalbon they always do this bro

pierregasly : congrats you two!! have to celebrate soon!

-@yourinstagram : thank you pierre! bring kika and come over anytime ❤️

sabrinacarpenter - omg babes congratulations! so happy for you two!! 🩷🫶🏼

bellahadid : congratulations beautiful! wishing you happiness always 💜

lewishamilton : congratulations 🩷 knew everything would work out!!

-@yourinstagram : thank you for everything lewis, come and hang out with us soon!! bring roscoe please i miss my little buddy

-lewishamilton : roscoe misses you too

-roscoelovescoco : me loves you y/ns!

-@yourinstagram : 😭❤️ i love you too roscoe

joris.trouche : congratulations mon ami, best to you two always

-@yourinstagram : thank you joris 🩷

liked by leclercpascale, joris.trouche, pierregasly, arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 8,700,103 others

charlesleclerc : mon amour, i have loved you since i knew what the word meant. you are my everything. i love you.

tagged [email protected]

yourinstagram : je t'aime ♥️ id spend all my lives with you ♥️

user444: the way he looks at her 🥹

user903: lord i see what you have done for others...

user676 : BI PANIC BI PANIC BI PANIC

user38: so glad they're finally together I've been rooting for ages

user45: mama y papa mama y papa

carlossainz : congratulations cabron, you deserve this happiness ❤️

arthurleclerc: so happy to finally have her officially in the family, took you long enough 🙄

-user339 : you tell him arthur

joris.trouche : allez! love to the both of you always ❤️

leclercpascale : felicitations, restez heureux et rendez-vous toujours heureux ♥️

-charlesleclerc : merci maman ♥️

-yourinstagram : merci maman 🥺❤️

scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️

landonorris : thank God you finally asked her out i was going to do it for you

danielricciardo : glad to see you finally asked her out!!

charlotte2304 : shes amazing, don't hurt her or carla and i will have words with you

-carlabrocker : 💪🏻 🔪

-yourinstagram : 😂😂

ricciardoberetta : martas asking when are we double dating 😂

user344 : new hottest couple in the paddock alert!!

user23 : idk if i wanna be her or him or sandwiched in between

user45 : they ARE the moment!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - there's going to be one more part but i hope you liked it!!! much love 😘

likes comments reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

TAGS

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion @ivegotparticulartaste

everything -@roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

something just like this - @chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @moon-enthusiast @crlsummer @superlegend216 @electrobutterfly @formula1mount @f1lov3r @livster @inkfablesandstories @ssararuffoni

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a DM 🩷

368 notes · View notes

cartierre · 1 year

Text

AMOUR ROSE | cl16

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU charles leclerc x fem!reader (fc: pasabist on ig)

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 293,094 others

yourusername filling up my vitamin d tank in portugal ❦

view all 1,450 comments

user1 someone explain to me how this girl is dating charles ⤷ user2 she's way out of his league

charles_leclerc mon bijou (my jewel), no one compares to your beauty! ⤷ yourusername charles stop i'm already turning red

charles_leclerc i cannot believe how blessed i've been with you in my life, i'm going crazy over you ⤷ yourusername you're so overdramatic...

user3 y/n being absolutely flustered because of charles' comments is so real of her ⤷ user4 even i'm blushing because of his compliments ⤷ user5 idk if i should be jealous because she's dating charles or because he keeps being the sweetest boyfriend

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 301,392 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername bye bye vacation ☀️

view all 1,932 comments

user6 i want what they have ⤷ user7 every night i manifest this exact life

charles_leclerc mon soleil (my sun), your smile brightens up my day ⤷ yourusername careful or you'll get a sunburn ⤷ charles_leclerc i'd gratefully accept every sunburn if it means seeing your smile every day

user8 i hate charles for raising the bar so high with every comment he leaves under her posts ⤷ user9 god has his favourites and she's one of them fr

♡ liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 193,304 others

tagged: yourusername

voguesingapore Let the elegance of #Y/N enchant us all. A rising star on various social media platforms, Y/N Y/L/N has enjoyed a big following, especially on Instagram. She's currently dating Formula One driver Charles Leclerc and opens up about the life as an F1 WAG and her life in the spotlight in our September Issue 2022.

view all 587 comments

yourusername it feels like a dream come true! i'm still speechless this is really happening... ⤷ charles_leclerc you deserve for all your dreams to come true mon amour (my love)

user10 so we're celebrating people who have achieved nothing on their own now? ⤷ user11 she had a pretty big following even before she started dating charles ⤷ user12 yeah but like.... why? just because she's pretty? ⤷ user13 that's literally how most people became influencers on social media

user14 she's so otherwordly pretty

user15 she looks so ethereal. elegance perfectly describes her

♡ liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 293,495 others

tagged: yourbestfriend

yourusername charles loves to spoil me on my birthday even if he cannot be here right now

view all 1,416 comments

user16 i need to call my therapist because i cannot anymore ⤷ user17 charles spoiling y/n and her friends because of her birthday really confirms the "if he wanted to he would" saying

charles_leclerc the pink hair is going to be the death of me mon coeur (my heart) ⤷ yourusername my face is as pink as my hair right now

user18 wow and my boyfriend couldn't even text me a "happy birthday" on my birthday morning... ⤷ user19 not everyone can be as sweet as charles leclerc

user20 she's so spoiled oml

user21 you're telling me she rather celebrates her birthday with her friends than support charles in zandvoort? ⤷ user22 some people love to hate on every little thing...

♡ liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 402,187 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc mon ange rose me rend fou... bon anniversaire ma chère (my pink angel is driving me insane... happy birthday my dear)

view all 2,037 comments

user23 oh he whipped whipped

user24 charles being absolutely head over heels for y/n is what i aspire in my future relationship

yourusername you're too adorable charles, je t'aime (i love you) ⤷ charles_leclerc je t'aime davantage (i love you more) ⤷ yourusername impossible! ⤷ charles_leclerc yes possible!

user25 i need to take a break from charles' and y/n's profiles because their comments keep destoying me

user26 they made me believe in love again ⤷ user27 if they ever break up, i'll be a two times child of divorce

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles lecerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction

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pitinthelanepages · 1 year

Text

when not enough

pairing: charles lecerc x reader

summary: when you're not enough for him, no matter how hard you try.

genre: angst

The room fell into an uneasy stillness, shadows dancing restlessly as Charles mustered the courage to shatter his world. Your heart raced, anticipation and dread intertwining within your chest, as you braced yourself for the words that would change everything. A heaviness settled upon your shoulders, threatening to crush your spirit as Charles took a hesitant step forward.

"Love, we need to talk," Charles spoke, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and uncertainty. His hands trembled, fingers fumbling for words that seemed just out of reach. The gravity of his admission hung in the air, a fragile thread threatening to sever their bond.

Confusion etched itself upon your face, eyes searching his for answers you feared you already knew. "You wanna break up, don’t you? But… why?" you implored, your voice quivering with vulnerability. "Have I done anything wrong?"

Charles' gaze met yours, the depths of his eyes mirroring the inner turmoil he grappled with. "It's not about what you've done or haven't done," he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. "I've lost sight of myself, lost touch with who I am. I need time to find my way back."

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over as his words pierced your heart. A torrent of emotions crashed upon you, the overwhelming surge of love and devotion intertwining with a sense of abandonment. You had loved him relentlessly, unable to fathom a life without him. The thought of not being enough left you feeling as if your world had crumbled.

"I just wanted to be enough for you," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of pain and longing. Every ounce of your being had been poured into your relationship, your unwavering love an offering you believed would bridge any divide. You had bent and contorted yourself to fit the mould he desired, sacrificing your own dreams and aspirations in the process.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, your voice choked with sorrow as you continued, "I loved you unconditionally, Charles. I couldn't imagine a future without you. But now... now I'm left feeling worthless, as if all my efforts were in vain."

Charles reached out, his hand desperate to bridge the growing chasm between you two, but you pulled away, heart too fragile to bear any more wounds. Your tear-filled eyes met his gaze, a mix of love and shattered dreams reflected in your expression. "You know what’s the scariest realisation? I don't know who I am without you," you confessed, your voice a fragile whisper. "But I guess I will find my way. I will have to find the parts of me I lost in the pursuit of our love."

With that, you turned and walked away, your steps heavy with the weight of heartbreak and resilience. The room fell into a deafening silence, the remnants of your love echoing in the empty space. And as Charles watched your retreating figure, the magnitude of his decision weighed upon him, a painful realisation of the love he had left behind.

But it was too late. The damage had been done, your paths forever diverging, and all that remained were the fragments of a love that once burned brightly, now lost amidst the tangle of broken promises and shattered hearts.

a/n: if you've read my works before, you'll notice this writing style is different. yes i tried something new. though writing this was a pain in the ass, hope you enjoyed it!

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 writing #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc scenario #charles lecerc angst

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rebelwrites · 4 months

Note

First Christmas with Mr Leclerc???? Like maybe you start a tradition with him and he's just so in love and can't believe you want to spend the holidays with him 😍

Can We Go See Santa?

Charles Leclerc x Reader

As this is a flash fic it hasn’t been edited

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

The arrivals area of the airport was practically bursting at the seams, everywhere you looked there were multiple bodies darting around the large room. Everyone was in their own world, hunting for their bags and family, ready to start the festivities that would follow over the next couple of days.

Reaching up you tugged the hood of your boyfriend's hoodie further over your cap before making sure your three year old’s hood was still covering her face, she was fast asleep in your arms, soft snores escaping her lips every so often, the flight completely wiped her out and honestly you were happy about that. For the past couple of days she had been a little terror, but in all fairness it was all due to excitement of getting to see her ‘Char Char’ again. Over the last couple of months fans had started to raise their suspicions about you and the monegasque driver. He had started soft launching you on his social media and you knew that one day the world would have to know you two were dating. But your main concern was your daughter, she was too young to understand what was going on, all she knew was the love she held for Mummy’s boyfriend.

Somehow you managed to spot Arthur amongst the crowd, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the youngest Leclerc, his disguise was shocking and he was lucky to now get trampled in the busy airport. Shaking the thoughts out of your mind you slowly pushed your way through the crowded room. Dropping your gaze you realized that Arthur had grabbed your suitcases meaning that your escape was going to be quick and hopefully uneventful.

“Comment s'est déroulé le vol ? How was the flight?” The youngest Lecerc beamed, reaching out to take Alice from you. The movement caused her to stir, pulling her tiny fists to her eyes, the moment she realized it was Arthur holding her it was like someone had flipped a switch and she was wide awake.

“Arta,” she giggled, placing her hand on his cheek. She had always struggled to pronounce his name but he really didn’t care.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s get the two of you back home, Maman is so excited to see you.”

The journey back to his car was relatively quick, he had managed to secure a really good parking space right near the main doors. The moment he opened the back door of the car my heart melted when I saw the brand new car seat secured onto the back seat of Pascales’ car. “Maman wanted her little bear to be safe, and she said she had a feeling you would be spending a lot more time in Monaco.” Arthur chuckled, looking over his shoulder flashing me a warm smile.

“Let’s not rush,” you hummed, slowly pushing the hood of Charles’ hoodie down before climbing into the front seat of the car, “We haven’t been together for a year yet.”

“Yet I have never seen my brother so happy,” he grinned, double checking the seatbelt was secured before he quickly made his way to the driver's seat. “God, he is gonna be so happy to see you.”

Nothing could wipe the smile off your face as Arthur backed out of the parking space, making his way towards the exit of the car park. “I’m honestly surprised how we have all managed to keep this a secret,” you hummed, resting your head against the window of the car. The sounds of giggles from the back seat filling the small space, “especially Alice, she's been so excited to see you all.”

The journey from the airport didn’t take long and the moment you stepped foot into the Leclerc household you were pounced on by Pascale. “Oh my dear, it is so good to see you,” she beamed, practically crushing your ribs with how tight she was hugging you. “Char will be home within the next ten minutes.”

Your heart started racing at the thought of him walking through the door with no knowledge you were here. You couldn’t wait to see him, this would be your first Christmas together and hopefully the first of many.

Charles abruptly came into your life one rainy day in the UK, to this day you still felt some embarrassment from the day you met. Alice was two and she decided it was a good idea to run away from you in a busy park. She went sprinting across the field, she had spotted Charles before you had, screaming his name before barging into him causing him to spill his iced coffee down himself. But instead of being angry he smiled softly at my daughter before chasing after her causing her giggles to echo around the park.

Pushing the memory to the back of your mind, you followed Pascale into the kitchen, taking a seat at the kitchen table whilst Arthur chased Alice around the house. You found myself fumbling with the sleeves of Charles’ hoodie. You had never done anything like this before so my hands were starting to get clammy, what if he didn’t want you here? What if you had made a mistake? Was it too soon to be spending Christmas with him and his family?

Because your mind was spinning you didn’t notice the man you were worrying about was currently standing in the doorway. Taking a deep breath you finally looked up when you heard someone cough from across the room. The corners of your lips tugged into a wide smile as you let your gaze scan over your man leaning against the door frame. His green eyes glistened with happiness as he saw you sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hi,” you breathed, slowly pushing yourself to your feet.

Charles couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he had no idea you were coming to Monaco but he was happy to see you standing in the kitchen of his childhood home.

“When did you get here?” he whispered, scared if he spoke too loudly then you would disappear and this was just a figment of his imagination.

“I actually only got here about fifteen minutes ago,” you giggled, closing the gap between the two of you. The moment you got within arms reach of him, he wasted no time in pulling you into his chest, squeezing you tight, never wanting to let you go.

“Êtes-vous ici pour Noël ? Are you here for Christmas?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thought we could start some new traditions, you, me and Alice,” you responded, looking up, resting your hand against his cheek. “Make some better Christmas memories for the two of us.”

Before Charles could respond we were attacked by the little terror that was my three year old daughter. “Char Char,” she screamed, trying to climb him like a tree.

He quickly pulled away from the hug to scoop her up in his arms, the moment she was high enough he pressed a small kiss to the end of her nose, causing her giggles to echo around the room. Nothing could wipe the smile off Charles’ face, he had both his girls with him on his favorite season of the year. The distance was starting to kill him, all he wanted was both of you by his side as he traveled the world, that was his Christmas wish this year.

“I missed you, Princess,” he whispered, brushing some of her loose curls away from her eyes.

“Missed you more, Char Char,” she whispered back, resting her small hand on his cheek. You felt tears threatening to spill over your lash line. Charles had completely changed your life for the better, he treated your daughter as if she was his own and there never went a day where he didn’t shower either of you in love. “Can we go and see Santa?” Alice asked, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes at Charles.

“I can’t think of anything better, Princess,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before placing her on the ground and watching her sprint towards the front door.

“You willing to stand in line for hours, waiting to see someone dressed as the big man?” you hummed in amusement, tucking your hands into the back pocket of our jeans. “You know there is a chance we will get spotted.”

The smirk on his face melted your heart and if it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning against the counter top, you swore your knees would have given out on you. “You and Alice are my entire world, babygirl and I don’t want to hide that away anymore.” he whispered, closing the gap between the two of you, planting his hands on your hips. “I want to start new traditions with you, Y/N. And if the first one is making sure that every year Alice gets to go see Santa, followed by a walk around a Christmas market with hot chocolate.”

“That sounds perfect, Mr Leclerc,” you giggled, brushing your noses against his.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @livo676 @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungariann @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo

#charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic

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f1version · 1 year

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SIMPTEXTS ★ HEADCANON

pairing: f1 grid x partner!reader (no pronouns specified)

summary: texts some f1 drivers would send you as your s/o.

note: headcanons are my new favorite thing… send prompts to do more with the f1 grid lol.

★ CARLOS SAINZ (55) — he would definitely give some dorky remark, like the most silly, horny, direct remark after saying something cute:

★ DANIEL RICCIARDO (3) — we all know danny would be that hype and obsessed boyfriend, so he would NEVER miss a morning or night text:

★ MICK SCHUMACHER (47) — his texts are the cutest ( sometimes naughtiest but shhh ) ever. he loves sending pics, he would send you some of what he is doing or where he is, sometimes of things that remind him of you:

★ LEWIS HAMILTON (44) — we all know lewis is wild (like his comments are out of this world) so he would be cute and 100% teasing + horny:

★ CHARLES LECERC (16) — he is SHY… and wants to make you happy. he doesn’t have the best way with words, but he would remind you how much you mean to him, how grateful he is for (1) your heart choosing him and for (2) his heart choosing you, and finally, he always reminds you he loves to see you happy:

★ PIERRE GASLY (10) — i know for a fact you guys love jealous!pierre, and while he wouldn’t be intoxicatingly possessive, he would say things about how you are his and how he is yours and how he wants to remind that to everyone:

★ YUKI TSUNODA (22) — his love language is food, he loves cooking for you and with you, he loves having you around while he cooks. he would text in the middle of the day —very spontaneous— asking if you want to get/make food. yuki has a strong “i’m here open up” vibe:

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN (1 / 33) — max texts you ALL the time. he texts you while at work, on meetings, flights, in the bathroom, not in the bathroom, before races, after races, once during a race, when you are not with him, when you are with him, and especially… when he is drunk and starts saying the funniest things:

★ LANDO NORRIS (4) — he is the most lovesick brat. he complains about how it started raining when you were wearing an outfit that goes with sunny days, he goes full crazy mode when someone treats you poorly (not even bad, they just don’t meet his standards — which are high), and he is also a little brat with you… all jokes of course, tho sometimes he means the silliest things:

★ ALEX ALBON (23) — he is the cutest…. and a simp. cute and simpy. he would just remind you how awesome, beautiful, funny, intelligent, interesting, talented, and badass you are, he loves you and loves to show how crazy you make him:

★ GEORGE RUSSELL (63) — he literally texts facts, does recaps, and even powerpoint presentations about you. he loves to show off how much he knows about you, how much he observes, and what he learns:

★ SEBASTIAN VETTEL (5) — the quality of his ‘i love you but in other words’ + ‘feel good’ texts is top tier. seb would remind you how valuable, lovable, and unique you are. you don’t even have to ask, he always knows what to say and how to say it:

( two because no one does it like him )

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old-lorarri · 11 months

Text

. . . ❨ WIP WEDNESDAY ─ TAG GAME ❩

─ rules . . . ❨ give your wips (even though it is not wednesday ❩ ─ thoughts . . . ❨ just gonna give you the pairing and no context lol ❩

daniel ricciardo x fem! gf! reader ─ headcanon

lanco stroll x fem! nepo baby! heiress! ─ social media file

charles lecerc x fem! korean! engineer! street racer! reader

─ tags . . . ❨ tagged by @monzabee tagging @monzabee @jojojoy1 @goldsainz @f1version @lomlando @pg10version @lovelytsunoda @londonharrington @starkwlkr @cartierre @oconso @fxllfaiiry @remainofthesun @fleetwooods @holllandtrash @sebscore @cialovessirlewis @sidcrosbyspuck @photmath @karotland @pucksandpower (no pressure to do it and if you have already just ignored this please) ❩

#⋆·˚ ༘ * 💌! games ׂׂૢ

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duvetsandpillows · 5 years

Text

Forgotten

Charles Leclerc X Reader

Words: 1374

Warnings: Swearing

I'd been sitting on the side of the road for over an hour. I'd been to a job interview and Charles said was meant to pick me up afterwards. I'd just moved into Charles apartment in Monaco and the city was very new to me. I didn't really know my way around yet and my French was pretty terrible. I knew that some people spoke English here but I was yet to find someone who could understand and help me.

I had tried calling Charles multiple times, my phone then died so I couldn't even call an Uber. I hadn't brought any money with me, I wasn't expecting on needing any. People were staring at me as they walked past, I was mortified. I was in a very smart blouse, knee length pencil skirt and a pair of black heels. It looked like I'd just been fired and was contemplating life on the side of the road. I wanted to go wait somewhere else, on a bench in a park or something but Charles wouldn't be able to find me when he turned up.

I watched the cars drive past and wondering where Charles was, what had happened. It was unusual of him to not hear anything from him, especially if he was meant got be coming to get me. Had he got caught up somewhere? Had something happened to him? I began picking away the skin next to my nails, it was a bad habit but he kept me calm.

After another half an hour I decided I couldn't wait any longer. I stood up and brushed myself off, I vaguely remembered the way back to the apartment. I knew it would be a long walk but it was that or sit on the street all night. The sun began to set and a breeze started to pick up, making me regret it bring a jacket with me. I walked down the streets, looking for stores or buildings that I recognised so that I knew I was going the right way. My feet began to ache and blister as I walked, I could already see the bloody mess they'd be in when I got home.

After an hour of walking I finally made it back to the apartment block. I took the lift up to our floor, I could hear music from outside the door. I frowned and unlocked the door to see the Charles and some of the other drivers sitting in the living room drinking beers and chatting. I couldn't believe my eyes.

I kicked off my heels, the backs of my feet coated in a layer of blood from the blisters, and slammed the front door loud enough to get the whole rooms attention. All eyes darted to me and a flurry of hellos echoed through the room.

"Mon angè! Where have you been? We were talking about you," Charles said walking over to me arms wide open. I shook my head and barged past him, going straight into our room, slamming the door behind me. I took out some comfy clothes from the chest of draws and laid them out on my bed.

The door opened and Charles walked in, a puzzled looked on his face.

"(Y/N)? Chére? What's the matter?" I turned to face him, glaring at him as if I was shooting daggers from my eyes.

"You're fucking with me right? You are not actually being serious right now are you?" Charles' face was as blank as a piece of paper. "I was sat outside the fucking office for almost two hours! I cannot believe that you fucking left me so that you could get drunk with your mates! I had to walk home, I've cut my feet open, it was fucking freezing!"

"I-I'm so sorry babe, the boys came over a-and it just slipped my mind..."

"Did the boys take your phone too so you couldn't answer my calls? You're a fucking adult Charles, this is your fault... not any of those boys. Just go have fun, enjoy your night." I turned my back to him and began getting changed.

"Baby I'm really sorry... I can get the boys to leave and we can-"

"I want to be alone right now," I said quietly, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I turned around to see Charles slowly leaving the room. "I got the job. Not that you care." I watched the door close and I sat on the bed and let the tears finally escape. I'd left my entire life to move in with him, left all of my family and friends for him. I didn't even have anyone to go see and talk to about it. I'd never felt more alone.

I sat there wondering why I'd bothered. Did he really want me there? Was I just for when no one else was about? The second best. I sobbed louder as those thoughts swirled through my head. Part of me wanted to pack up a bag and go home for a while, be around people that wanted me there. But I knew that wouldn't fix anything. I'd just be running away from my problems.

I laid in bed, Netflix quietly playing in the background, reading through documents my new employer had emailed over to me. I had to re-read every sentence two or three times, the words jumbling together into gibberish.

"(Y/N)?" I looked up to see Charles standing sheepishly in the doorframe, holding a bouquet of roses and a couple bottles of champagne.

"That's not going to fix this," I muttered looking back at my laptop.

"They're separate... to say congratulations." I looked up to see him place them on the bedside table before sitting on the side of the bed. "Can we talk for a moment please?" I closed my laptop and looked at him, raising my eyebrows for him to continue.

"I know it doesn't change anything but I am really sorry. I was stupid. Really stupid. I wasn't thinking and I promise it will never happen again. It wasn't fair on you at all and I will do anything I can to make it up to you." He reached out his hand for mine, linking our fingers together. "I am so proud of you mon angè, I knew you would get it."

"I forgive you... I'm still annoyed but I forgive you." A small smile appeared on his face as he gave my hand a small squeeze.

"Come with me..." he said, pulling me out of bed, grabbing the champagne in his other hand.

"Charles?" He lead me outside onto the balcony and passed one of the champagne bottle. "What am I-"

"Well we always get a bottle if we are on the podium... this is your podium." I smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering a thank you to him.

We shook up the bottles and started spraying each other with them, our laughs echoing for anyone outside to hear. We clinked our bottles together before taking a sip. We placed the bottles and Charles took my hand, pulling me into his body. Our tops were sticky from the booze but I couldn’t care less. I rested my head on his chest, my body swaying slowly, dancing to the sound of his heart beat. My annoyance for Charles dissipated, I could never truly stay mad at him for long.

Charles lifted me up, placing me onto his feet and started dancing us around the balcony. I looked up at him and he flashed the biggest grin I’ve seen.

“You are the most beautiful woman that has ever walked this earth. How did I get so lucky?” I chuckled, feeling my cheeks start to warm up. “I’m serious my darling, you are intelligent, funny, beautiful and so kind hearted. You are the perfect woman.” He pressed a kiss on my forehead and began humming the song again.

We danced for a while longer before we went inside, we took a shower to wash all the champagne out of our hair and then cuddled up in bed together. I fell asleep in his arms, knowing there was no one else I’d rather be with.

#charles lecerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #one shot #fanfiction

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

our song | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader word count: 1.9k words. request: yes/no by anons "charles one shot where his gf is a singer/songwriter. she's making a new album and he's playing the piano and accidentally uploads him playing the melody in the piano in a insta story. a while later the song comes out and charles surprises her in one of her concerts playing the piano to the song 🥰" & "hello, could you maybe write a charles lecerc x reader? with story he posted when he plays the piano?" aaah! so sorry this took so long. i really hope you both like it. prompt: roses from this prompt list. warnings: language, kissing, fluff, it gets kinda suggestive in the end. i think that's it. a/n: here's day 2! i had one (1) piano lesson when i was ten and guitar lessons from ages 12 to 15 so i apologize if there're any mistakes about terminology and stuff. just like my xmas fics, PLEASE DON'T SEND REQUESTS FROM THE VALENTINE'S PROMPT LIST. i'll tag all the fics as illicitvalentine's so it's easier to keep track of them.

my masterlist / valentine's day masterlist

you’re laying down on the couch, with your back pressed against the armrest as you read a book, the soft music charles is playing in the background is the perfect soundtrack. you read about a girl running away from a life she didn’t want, and as she thinks about everything her life could, can, be, your mood falls as charles stops playing.

“why’d you stop?” you ask, placing your bookmark in the page you were reading.

“my fingers hurt,” charles replies, stretching his fingers.

“that was a nice song, where did you hear it?” you ask as you walk to him, sitting next to him on the small bench in front of the piano.

“it’s mine… i came up with it,” he says, and you think you see his cheeks reddening. “i’ve had the melody in my head for a while now,”

“why didn’t you tell me? charles, you just composed an entire song in your head, remembered it long enough to get here and play it. not even i can do that,” you smile, grabbing his face and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “you’re amazing,”

you’d been feeling a lot more connected to charles lately. maybe it was the fact that you had to leave him for a few months, with your world tour coming up, you wanted to spend every moment you could with him. loving him.

“it’s nothing, really,” he shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes.

“don’t do that. you’re a very talented person, you have a gift.” you lean your head on his shoulder, placing your fingers on top of the keys as you start playing a song you’d written for him about a year ago. he helped you play it, your fingers occasionally grazing his as the melody sped up.

there are words floating in your head, your phone is on, the front-facing camera recording everything you’re humming, mumbling, singing as you try to find the right words for the song.

"there must be more to life, than just empty promises and never-ending lies," you sing, pressing the keys and testing different notes and rhythms.

you don't know how long you stay there, trying to find the right melody for the story you’re building in your head. you let out a small yelp as you feel a pair of arms sliding across your waist, a chin rests on your shoulder, smiling at your reflection on your phone screen.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” charles smiles, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “you were too caught up in your music you didn’t hear me coming in,”

“yeah, i’m sorry,” you laugh, scooting over to one side, making enough space for charles to sit down next to you. “i can’t figure out the melody for the song, i- i’ve been sitting here for hours and still can’t get it right,” you lean your head on his shoulder. this wasn’t new to him, or you. he’d been by your side multiple times as you wrote your previous albums, offered help and support whenever he could. “i think i should just give up,” your hands move to pull down the fall board, but he stops you.

“don’t. show me what you got so far, we can work on it together,” you nod, reciting the lyrics you had written even though it wasn’t finished yet, playing the different melodies.

“but it just doesn’t fit, it doesn’t feel natural,” you get up, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. you lean against the marble countertop, watching the sunset through your window. the soft sound of the piano playing brings you out of your thoughts, and after a few seconds, you recognize the melody. it was charles’ song.

you walk back to the living room, where charles has set up your phone in a way where you can only see his hands and torso, the picture cutting off at his neck. you sit next to him, smiling at the small frown on his face, a sign of concentration.

“are you bragging, mozart?” you laugh, watching as a smile forms on his face. you expect him to stop once he reaches the part where he’d cut off the last time he played it, but he keeps going, the build-up makes you shiver, and you get goosebumps once the crescendo fades. he finishes in a perfect fade out. “you finished it,” you gasp, showing your arm, “i got chills. it’s amazing,” you grab his face in your hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “you have to register it, publish it somewhere, somehow. charles, this is one of the best songs i’ve ever heard,” you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you.

“i, uh, actually had another idea,” he says as he pecks your cheek.

“what?” you ask, letting go of him as he places his fingers over the keys again.

he starts playing, and after a few seconds, he hums a melody. your melody.

‘pop star (y/n) (y/l/n) teases possible collaboration with long time partner, formula 1 driver, charles leclerc. the young singer posted on her instagram a video of the two of them playing the piano as she sang words to what fans assume is her next single.’

the headlines, tags, mentions and comments flood your cell phone. you read one after the other, feeling a pang in your chest at the mistake you’d made a few days ago. what was supposed to go on your personal, private instagram account, ended up for the whole world to see.

“i’m sorry,” you pout. charles holds your hips and brings you close to him. “i know you said you wanted to use a pseudonym,”

“it’s fine. creating this song with you has been one of the greatest thing i’ve done in my life. i didn’t want to take attention away from your success by having my name involved,” he kisses your forehead, leading you to the piano. your safe place. “but don’t let this stop you. you have to keep the song in the album, it’s your song.”

“god, i love you,”

you say hi to the people as you pass by them, heading to your dressing room to prepare for the concert. the sound of people yelling, chanting your name, screaming the lyrics to your songs is music to your ears, it helps ease the pain you’d been feeling all morning.

no matter how much you and charles both tried to spend valentine’s day together, you simply couldn’t make it work and had to spend the day of love with an entire ocean separating the two of you.

as you open the door, you’re surrounded by colors, the scent of flowers strong given the number of roses that currently occupy most of the room. your heart flutters as you stare at the delicate roses, eyes watering at the thought of charles going out of his way to prepare something for you even when you’re both miles apart.

it’s past midnight back in monaco, so you settle with texting a red heart emoji, alongside a picture of your teary eyes to charles. your hair and make-up team walks in, they squeal in delight as they see all the roses.

“thank you so much for joining me today, this is a special day for all couples, and throughout the night i’ve seen countless couples singing, dancing and it really means a lot to me that you, all of you, decided to spend this night with me. this next song is one that my boyfriend and i wrote together. and even though i can’t be with him tonight, i’d like to sing this song, our song, as a way to feel closer to him.” you speak into the microphone, hearing the thousands of people yelling in excitement. “it seems that you like the idea,” you giggle, looking around at the sparkling lights from the bracelets the crowd received when they entered the stadium.

you felt nervous about performing the song, even though you sang it at every stop of the tour because it quickly became a fan favorite, this song meant so much to both you and charles, and you wanted to perform it the best way you could, knowing that this would be all over the internet the next day.

“this is called ‘for you’ and i hope you like it,” that’s your cue for the keyboardist to start playing. the screaming and yelling die down as you wait for the melody to begin, but it doesn’t come. you turn around, noticing that the spots where the rest of your band is supposed to be are empty. you look around, seeing your publicist and the band with smiles on their faces, you frown and are about to say something when the melody starts.

the crowd cheers as they hear the piano, and you feel the stage shaking beneath your feet. worried, you look at your band, your friends, who are signaling for you to keep going. to start singing.

you clear your throat, softly singing the first verse. there are cheers around you, they get louder, and you don’t really know why. thanks to the giant screens on top of the crowd, you see movement behind you, something is being lifted from under the stage. you don’t know what’s going on, but the music keeps going, and so do you. there’s something familiar about the way the person plays the piano. the screaming and yelling get so loud, and as you turn around you understand why.

there, sitting on a piano bench is charles. playing the piano to your song. you can’t keep singing, your eyes widen as he smiles at you, all you can see is him.

“you’re here,” you say. he finally stops playing, standing up and wrapping his arms around you.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers in your ear.

“me too. god, i love you, i-” you shake your head, tapping the corners of your eyes with the pad of your finger. “i can’t believe you’re here,” you throw your arms around his neck, it feels so good to be in his arms after so long. you loved touring, you really did, but nothing could ever compare to the feeling of being home.

“what did you think of your debut as a pianist?” you ask, you’re laying down in the bathtub of your hotel room, your back against charles’ chest. the carpet floors were covered in rose petals, and there was a red heart formed with the petals on the bed as well. there are candles lit up and baby pink petals floating in the bathtub water.

“i liked it. i think i might stick with racing, though.” he chuckled.

“you were amazing. i love you. thank you so much for this, i-” he cut you off with a soft kiss on your lips, grabbing your chin and moving your face toward his. you hummed softly, turning around until you’re sitting on his lap. you continue kissing him, feeling his hands over your bare, wet skin.

you shiver as something soft trails down your back, charles is holding a rose between his fingers and caresses your skin with it. you smile against his lips, getting ready to enjoy valentine’s day as you’re supposed to. in the arms of the person you love.

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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

Note

hi hi hi!

i was wondering if i could request something where reader is arthur's best friend and he introduces her to charles. but then charles falls in love with reader first while reader has a partner and he confesses to her but she tells him she can't. and then a while later reader breaks up with her bf and charles shoots his shot again and she agrees to go out with him?

thank you sm 🫂

taken / CL16

Summary: Charles x female!reader - Your best friend's brother just so happens to have a thing for you. You just so happen to have a boyfriend.

Requested?: Indeed.

Author's Note: Did you read my mind? I was just thinking of an idea very similar to this one!

You're a little nervous to enter the Leclerc household. Not because you think they won't be just the sweetest people you've ever met- you're sure they will be, considering how Arthur turned out. No, you were just a little nervous to meet his older brothers. Particularly Charles.

You aren't even sure why. Maybe just because of his extreme fame. But Arthur is famous too... He races in F2.

But Arthur invited you to dinner with his family, saying his mother and brothers wanted to meet you, from all the good things he always said about you.

You had grinned and teased, "What sort of things do you say about me?"

And he had teased back, giving a playful smile, "I said you make the best fruit salad. That got them interested."

Now you sit in the passenger's seat of his car, a bowl of fruit salad sitting in your lap. Arthur pulls up to his house. "How you feeling?" he asks, shooting you a grin.

"Never better. Come on- I can't wait to meet your brothers."

"Aw, never mind my brothers! It should be my mother you're excited to meet!" He gets out of the car, and you follow, falling in step with him as you walk up to the house.

As you're halfway up the walk, the door opens, and Pascale Leclerc opens the door. "Bonjour Arthur et Y/n!"

You respectfully smile and respond back in French, "It's a pleasure to meet you!" You shake hands, and she holds the door for you and her youngest son.

"The other two are making a mess in the living room. I'm working on dinner. Why don't you join them?"

"Merci," Arthur smiles, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek, before leading you to the living room.

And there they are. Charles and Lorenzo Leclerc, lounging on the sofa. Both of them look away from the television when you enter with Arthur, and their faces brighten.

Charles stands up and shakes your hand. Lorenzo follows, doing the same thing. "Nice to meet you, Y/n," Charles chuckles, "Arthur has said so much about you."

"Oh, really? Other than my professional fruit salad making?"

Arthur cracks up as the elder Leclerc brothers give confused smiles. Arthur explains, "I never actually told them about your fruit salad-!"

"You liar!" you snap, giving him a playful shove.

Then the four of you settle down, and Lorenzo says, "So... You've ought to tell us about the fruit salad, then."

You shrug, your nervousness already dissipating. There's something about all three of these guys- they're just so natural, so sweet. "It's nothing much. Arthur just really likes this fruit salad I make." You roll your eyes.

"Really? Maybe we'll have to try it sometime," Charles smiles.

"I brought some for our dinner tonight!" you grin, meeting the man's eyes, which are nearly the same color as Arthur's- at least in this lighting.

"Oh, good," he nods.

The conversation continues like this for the rest of the night, and dinner is sweet. As the night goes on, your heart grows fonder and fonder of Arthur's family, just as it did when you first met Arthur himself.

Before you're about to leave, you ask awkwardly, "Oh! Uh, Charles, I was wondering..." The F1 driver looks up. "If I could, you know, get a picture with you. You know, so that once you become a world champion I have proof I met you." You are fully aware of how stupid this reason is, and are just avoiding the fact that you're totally the biggest Ferrari fan around.

Charles, laughs at this and starts to say, "Sure, we can-"

But his mother interrupts, "Come on, now. Charles isn't so special. Let me take a picture of the four of you. Give me your phone, honey." You hand your phone to her gratefully, and you stand for a picture, between Arthur and Charles, with Lorenzo on the other side of Charles. You feel Arthur's arm over your shoulders, and Charles' hand gently on your lower back.

After taking a few pictures, she hands your phone back, and you thank them, saying with a laugh, "Sorry if that made it awkward!"

Lorenzo says, "We don't mind," at the same time as Charles saying, "I'm used to it," at the same time as Arthur saying, "Yeah, Y/n, you made it super awkward."

The whole ride home in Arthur's car, you babble to him about his family and how sweet they are and this and that and the other thing. You find yourself especially mentioning Charles' name, though.

Arthur just listens as he drives, every so often putting in his two cents. When you make it to your house and he drops you off, you wave and get out. For the rest of the night, you can't stop thinking about the Leclerc's.

For the next six or seven months, Arthur invites you over a few more times. On this night, you're staying the night, because your house is having renovations on it. And probably because Arthur wanted some stupid slumber party or something, but was too cool to say it, as a grown adult man in his twenties. But facing it, Arthur totally has the heart of a stupid baby.

You could have just stayed in your home, but Pascale invited you over as soon as Arthur apparently mentioned to her that it was tough for you because of all the renovations.

Your boyfriend wasn't available to help you out because he had an accident about a workweek ago and has been in the hospital since. He's going to have to undergo surgery for a fracture. It hurts you to have to be away from him, but you have responsibilities, and have been staying with him, getting nearly no sleep, for the past four days. You boyfriend understood and even pushed you to let yourself go home, assuring you he'd be fine.

The whole Leclerc family has been warming up to you, but especially Charles, it seems. He often gives you nice comments on your looks and praise on your sweet personality.

Now you sit on Arthur's bed in his mother's house, on your phone. He's just gone to take a shower, leaving you by yourself. You believe that the only other person home is Pascale, who you assume is in bed by now.

You feel a shiver at the cold air conditioning, so you slip off Arthur's bed and walk to the corner of the room, grabbing a hoodie hanging on a hook, assuming it's Arthur's and knowing he wouldn't mind you wearing it. You pull it over, instantly feeling warmer as the soft cloth rubs against your cold arms and the scent of men's cologne fills your nose. It's a little big on you, so feels like a warm cozy blanket, almost.

At the growl of your stomach, you quietly slip out of Arthur's room, figuring you'll go unnoticed and be back on Arthur's bed before he ever knew you left his room. You head to the kitchen on soft feet. I'll just grab a little something from the fridge. You gently push open the door to the kitchen, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes settle on the man standing in the kitchen. Charles looks up from the eggs he's making on the stove, and your eyes meet.

"Oh... Hey, Charles," you smile softly, awkwardly stepping into the kitchen. "Why are you here...?" You don't think before you ask that question.

He chuckles. "I'm sorry. Why are you here?" But the smile on his face is sweet. "Arthur mentioned you were staying over for the night offhandedly. I figured maybe I'd drop by."

You nod slowly, feeling a little awkward.

There's a soft smile on Charles' face as he looks down at the food he's making. You watch as he transfers his eggs onto a plate. "You look cute in my hoodie, by the way. Where'd you find it? I've been looking for that one all over; I swear."

"Oh, God," You can't help but feel embarrassed. "It was in Arthur's room- I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'll take it off n-"

"No, it's fine," Charles says quickly. "I haven't seen that hoodie in months. Not sure why it was in Arthur's room, but I don't mind. In fact, you can keep it if you want..."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that, but..." You trail off, not exactly sure what you were going to say next anyway. You glance to the refrigerator as you feel another pang of hunger in your stomach.

Charles seems to notice this and says, "Want some of my eggs? Here, I'll split them in half." He grabs a plate.

"Well I wouldn't want to take your food," you quickly say. "You made that for yourself."

But Charles shrugs, handing you the plate. "I made myself too much anyway. This will be enough." He leans against the kitchen counter and starts eating, so you shrug and stand next to him, starting to eat your own food.

"Thanks, Charles. This is good." It's really not good. Kind of bland and the texture is weird, but you don't complain. You're just happy he's feeding you.

"You're welcome," he says softly, staring out. His eyes are glazed over as if there's something bugging him. You're about to ask about it when he suddenly turns to you, that look gone from his eyes and replaced with a much brighter one. "Hey, Y/n." He speaks in an overly casual tone, and a little quickly. "I know you've probably figured this out by now, but I was just wondering-" He hesitates, and finished with a little smile, "Next Wednesday night, are you available? Sorry it's a random day- my upcoming week is pretty full, but..." He trails off, apparently deciding he's rambling too much now, and just looks at your face, waiting for an answer.

Only now do you realize how close his face is to yours. Only now do you see his constant sweet comments were more like flirting. Only now you notice the look in his eyes is less like the one of an older brother, and more like the one of a man who's interested. This shocks you. While of course you can't deny he's extremely handsome, and while of course you can't deny you're kind of a huge fan of his, and while of course you can't deny he has one of the sweetest personalities ever, it's never honestly really crossed your mind at all that he could like you in a way like that. And you know why this is. If you didn't have a boyfriend, you're sure you'd already have a huge crush on Charles by now. It would be a classic 'being into your best friend's hot older brother'.

But you feel so such feelings now. You swallow, meeting his glimmering eyes. "Are you asking me out?" You just want to be sure.

His face brightens, his little dimples showing with his smile. He nods. "Exactly."

You blink and look down. You carefully choose your words: "I'm very flattered, Charles. Thank you. I'm afraid I'll have to say no- You must not know that I already have a boyfriend."

Charles looks over and opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly the need wells up within you to quickly add, "I mean the reason why I'm not staying with my boyfriend tonight while so many of the rooms in my house are getting renovated is only because he's in the hospital right now so regularly I'd be doing that but you know he's gone so I was gonna just stay in my half-done flat but then Arthur and your mum suggested-"

Suddenly Charles very gently cuts off your anxious rambling, placing a hand on your arm, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Y/n. Sounds like... a lot's just kind of coming done on you, huh? I've been there. I... I'm sorry for bringing that up... you know, asking you out and all. I had no idea; I swear." He genuinely looks like he does feel bad for it.

"Oh, it's okay, Charles..." Your eyes meet his, and you can't help but realize how much of a sweetie he really is. "Thanks... It's fine. You didn't know. I just- yeah. Thanks for understanding. You probably know how it is- sometimes in hard times it's nice to just have a few people that have got your back." You hesitate, before finishing in nearly a whisper, "Honestly, Charles, you and your family feel like... You're all so dear to me. You're starting to feel more like home than my own family." Your own family who don't have your back right now, while the Leclerc's do.

He smiles and gently gives you probably the softest hug you've ever received. It's short, and he pulls away quickly, saying with a soft smile, "I should have assumed you have a boyfriend already. I can't imagine a woman as beautiful as you not." He winks.

You smile softly, staring at the kitchen floor. There was something about that hug... Just so needed. It was so comforting. Arthur is good at comforting too, but in a different way. He's not a hug type of guy. He just jokes and distracts and keeps your mind off your troubles. You weren't expecting such a sweet hug from Charles just now.

You chuckle and look back up to meet his eyes. "You are not smooth, you know," you tease, although in all honesty, he kind of is.

"Alright," he nods, clearly enjoying a little bit of teasing, "you keep telling yourself that."

Then Arthur comes in, saying, "Y/n, there you are! Let's go to my room; I'm done showering. I have some funny sh*t to show you."

You walk away with Arthur, but can't help but glance back at at Charles. He attempts at another wink, but ends up pretty much just blinking. You chuckle to yourself.

"What?" Arthur asks.

"Oh, nothing. Just your brother."

About three months later, Arthur stands up from the sofa in Charles flat when his phone starts ringing. "I've got to take this," Charles' younger brother comments, walking out of the room. He shuts the door to the hallway behind him. Charles really doesn't care and is about to take out his own phone and start scrolling, but his ears perk up when he hears his brother say, "Hey, Y/n. What's good?"

Charles knows he shouldn't, but can't help himself from listening to Arthur's half of your phone conversation, which is: "I'm good. Any reason you called?... What is it?... Oh, I'm sorry, Y/n. How are you taking it?... Oh? Why?... That's good, Y/n. The last thing you need is a broken heart, huh? Then I'd have to fix it up for you... No, I didn't mean it like that!" Arthur laughs. "...So, how's it feel to be a single woman again?" Charles' eyes stare at the door, his heart involuntarily beating faster. "...No, no, Y/n! That's not what I meant! Gosh, why do all the things I say sound so obnoxiously flirtatious? I'm not even trying to sound like that... Oh, yeah, I don't... Okay, hah... Oh, I'm just hanging out with Charles... No, no, he didn't. I'm out of the room. I know sometimes you have personal things to say... Why do you sound disappointed?... Oh, right, sorry... Alright, bye bye, Y/n... Bye." As soon as Charles hears the phone beep and the doorknob to the room starts to turn open again, he stares down back at his phone, trying to calm his nerves as best he can. He'd feel terribly bad if he knew Arthur had known he was eavesdropping.

"Who was it?" Charles asks, trying to sound as natural as possible, at the same time as trying not to sound obnoxious or nosy.

"Oh, just Y/n," Arthur says, and quickly moves on with another topic of conversation. But the whole time, Charles can't stop thinking about you.

There was no way you weren't going to be going to Abu Dhabi with the Leclerc boys. So here you are, Sunday race day, on the paddock for the last F1 race of the season.

Suddenly, though, you feel a distinct touch on your arm, different from all the other people bumping into you from around. You turn to that direction and fix your eyes on Charles Leclerc.

Oh God. Why is your heart suddenly racing like this? It's been about three months since cutting it off with your now ex-boyfriend, and pretty much the day after that, a little seed of liking for Charles that you had been keeping from nourishing for all this time sprouted.

It's like it's been an underlying feeling you've had for... Well, probably over a year now. And even before that, you certainly had a little fangirl crush on him; no doubt about that one.

His hair, which is in need of a little trim you think (not seriously bad) is slightly messed up, and he has the sweetest little shine in his honestly quite lovely eyes. He's recently shaved, and his little dimples are so defined right now in the outdoor light of the late afternoon. You can't help but notice how his defined jawline turns into his strong neck, and how broad and strong his shoulders are. And on top of it all his tight fireproof defines his pecs so clearly you-

God, why are you checking Charles out like this?

"Y/n?" Charles asks, "Did you hear me?" Apparently, you'd been so taken away by his appearance (which is literally how he looks pretty much every race weekend...?) that you hadn't even heard him the first time.

You blush. "Oh, right, sorry. Yes?"

His lip twitches, and he seems to study you now, before leaning close and saying as soft as possible while still having you hear, "I was wondering... When we get back to Monaco, could I take you out to eat? It's just that I heard you broke up with-"

"Yes," you blurt, and kind of want to slap yourself. Just a little bit.

But his face lights up at your seemingly extreme willingness. "Really? So do you feel the same way?"

"Well," you put a teasing smile on, "I'd have to know how you feel about me first before answering that."

"You know..."

"Then say it."

"Well, I have feelings for you."

"Well, then maybe I have feelings for you, too." Your heart is pounding.

"So that means you'd like to go out to eat with me?"

You smirk softly. "I guess it does."

You open your door, wearing your best. Charles insisted on bringing you to a very nice, expensive place. You weren't so sure- that's not quite your type of environment- but agreed to it.

And, well, he looks amazing.

He wears a fitting black tuxedo, dress shoes, and a lovely smile on his face. Lovely dimples.

But he says, "Oh my God, Y/n." Intense feelings briefly flash in his eyes. "That dress... those shoes... your makeup... your hair. You look... gorgeous."

"Oh, stop," you murmur, smiling softly, looking away.

"Well, then, princess," he takes your hand in his, gently in his and kisses it, before walking to his Ferrari with you, still holding your hand. Despite how cheesy and cliché this really is, you can't help but be charmed.

He opens the car door for you and you get in. He shuts it and when he starts driving, takes your hand in his again. "Y/n," he says softly, "I'm going to make this the best date you've ever experienced and treat you like the princess you are."

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sports-on-sundays · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can you maybe write a clumsy reader x Lando Norris or Charles Leclerc??

Like how he gets worried about how she always gets injured such as accidentally burning herself or accidentally dropping a glass.

accident prone / CL16

Summary: Charles x clumsy!girlfriend!reader - Charles is usually pretty cool, but when it comes to you, he can be just a bit of a fussbudget. Who can blame him, though? You yourself have kind of got your head in the clouds most of the time.

Warnings: wrote this one in past tense because I felt like it, censored swearing, this one is honestly just really silly, blood, Charles being very protective

Requested?: Uh huh!

Author's Note: Thanks for another request. :)

Really, you were the paddock's big joke. And you didn't mind at all. Being Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, you hung around a lot. Especially since your boyfriend practically begged you to come to nearly every single Grand Prix. So, yeah. You were around a lot.

Which was why you were kind of the paddock's big joke. It wasn't like you were trying to be. It was like the way you were. Carlos told you that you were bringing it upon yourself. Maybe so, but you weren't trying to. It was just one too many clips of you tripping on air, walking into walls, dropping important things you were holding for someone, and the like. One time you were having a conversation with a few of the guys (because although obviously Charles was your man, you got along well with the other drivers) and when Max happened to say something particularly humorous, you sprayed the coffee you had been drinking out of your nose at the same time as dropping it. It splashed onto Lando's shoe. He, who was pretty annoyed (understandably so) had said something like, in a rather teasing, lighthearted tone, regardless, "My God, f*ck you, Y/n! My shoe! You're such a klutz!"

To that, you had stuck your tongue out at him and countered, "You're being over dramatic, rich boy! It's not like you can't easily buy yourself a new pair!"

While you admittedly were certainly pretty clumsy, you had a sharp mind. Still, you were humble enough to not mind being the grid's laughingstock. Everyone understood it was lighthearted.

Well, not everyone. There was one person who seemed to have issues with the whole thing. And it was your own boyfriend. Charles.

Referring to the story of spilling coffee on Lando's shoe again- as soon as you had finished with your comeback, suddenly Charles was next to you with his arm around your shoulder. He had been- well, not around. But somehow he must have heard and rushed to your side, because the look he had given Lando was honestly priceless as he asked the younger man, concerned, "What the hell did she do to make you say that to her?" He sounded so offended- more offended than you were yourself.

Lando had looked honestly nervous. "Max made her laugh so she spilled coffee on my shoe!"

"Mate, you're blaming it on me?" was Max's reaction, before looking at the imaginary watch on his wrist and saying, "Look at the time! Got to go."

"You know, just so happens, me too!" was what Lando said with a giggle, and the two had gone off. You were sure that as the two walked away together, they made fun of Charles and his little ways. But Charles wouldn't have minded. Because the only time Charles got defensive was when someone was bothering you.

Now, though, you were away from the paddock and racing. Now you were at home, thinking about all this as you smiled to yourself, standing next to the stove, waiting for the water for tea to boil. Charles was still in bed and had had an exhausting last weeks, so you thought he might like a little breakfast when he finally stirred.

Suddenly the tea kettle started squealing, and you quickly grabbed the it, hoping not to wake up your boyfriend in the other room. You started pouring the water in Charles' mug, and swore loudly when your hand bumped the kettle. You groaned. That's gonna leave a burn. You finished pouring the boiling water and ran your hand under lukewarm water as it steeped. You sighed, shaking your head, and very carefully, with shaky hands, put two pieces of bread in the toaster. Then you grabbed a glass and the orange juice from the fridge, but just as you were about to pour it, your hip bumped the counter and the glass slipped right out of your hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash that made you flinch and grit your teeth. "For f*ck's sake!" you snapped, unable to hold it back. You sighed, reaching for the broom, but just then, a sleepy, disoriented Charles entered the room, with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, still shirtless and wearing pajama pants. "Careful, love," you murmured. "Broken glass."

"Hmmm," he yawned, rubbing his eye. "What's going on? You okay, baby?"

"Yeah, I am," you started, starting to step around the glass pile to Charles, but wobbled and lost your balance, about to fall but- Charles, even having just woken up, caught you with a little chuckle. He helped you steady yourself and you sighed, shaking your head as you met him. "Anyway, yeah. I'm fine. I was... I feel bad. I was trying to make you some surprise breakfast, but... Clearly, I woke you up."

"Oh..." he smiled, naturally pulling you to him. "That's sweet..." Suddenly though, he saw your hand, and his brow grew concerned. He took your burnt hand, holding it up. "What's this?"

"Oh, uh," you giggled, glancing away. "Tea kettle."

"Hm. Looks like you had quite the-"

Suddenly you squeaked and flinched as the toaster popped behind you. You then broke out into laughing at yourself at being so frightened, and Charles teased, grabbing the broom, "Good thing you weren't holding a glass this time, huh? Babe, I really appreciate all this, really. But I'll clean up the glass and everything, and then I'll take my breakfast. Thanks, love."

You nodded, slowly leaving the kitchen, honestly feeling kind of bad. Really bad. You were trying to do something nice, and now he was in there, cleaning up your mess. No matter how many times he always told you it was okay, you were never fully convinced. Doesn't he get tired of me and my stupid little mistakes? Doesn't he get tired of always walking behind me and picking up the mess I leave?

When he came into the dining room with his breakfast, he thanked you wholeheartedly, gave you a damp cool rag for your burn, and got eating.

"Whoa, lovely, watch out," Charles said, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him, making you stumble a bit.

"What was that for, hm?" you frowned.

He smiled and somehow managed to say in the kindest way possible, "You were so busy looking up at the beautiful blue sky, you almost ran straight into that wall. What'cha daydreaming about?"

"Hmmm..." you glanced to his eyes, which in the bright lighting reflected just a slightly more grey version of the sky above. "You." You winked.

"How sweet," he smiled, gesturing to the Ferrari garage. Yes, you really were about to just walk right past it. Neither of you mentioned it, of course. As he left for his duties, though, he gave you a little wink and said, "Those high-heels are lovely, by the way. Just be careful." You clicked your tongue, but you knew he was right. Last time you wore heels at a Grand Prix, you ended up tripping over them and scraping both your knees. Charles had worriedly asked 'Are you alright?' so many times someone could have assumed you had just had a seizure or something instead of just tripping and falling. You had reassured him, as blood dripped down your legs, that you were just fine. He had rushed you back inside and made sure your legs got fixed up. For the rest of the weekend, you had hobbled around in sneakers and barely bent your legs because it hurt to bend the skin on your knees. It pretty much sucked, and fans on social media made fun of you almost as much as the other drivers on the grid, but you hadn't minded. The worst part was the pain- being made fun of was just fine. But of course it didn't go on for long, because Charles took whatever avenues that were necessary to put an end to people making fun of his girlfriend like that.

Charles had said after that whole thing something like, 'Y/n, you need to be more careful! You can't worry me like that, love!' which you found humorous, considering that over twenty weekends a year he went into basically a rocket ship and raced a bunch of other guys in other rocket ships, and made you worry sick. Either way, that was really the weekend when Charles' whole anxiety over your little accidents really started.

Before qualifying today, though, you made sure to catch Charles and give him a kiss, saying, "Don't crash."

He smiled gracefully and said back, "I won't. You don't crash, either, though."

You rolled your eyes with a little smile, gave him another kiss on the cheek, and he was off.

"Charlie! Nice job, dude!" you congratulated your boyfriend. You gave him a high five, and he gave you a hug. "Starting in a great position for tomorrow, love. Congrats!"

He chuckled. "Thanks, Y/n. I'm gonna go change. Be right back."

You nodded, and Charles walked off, but got caught in a conversation. When Carlos strolled in, you went to congratulate him as well, but of course.

You could feel it in slow motion. You foot getting caught, your other foot stepping forward, the force of gravity pulling you down, down-

You suddenly squealed though when unfamiliar arms caught you. After a second of disorientation, you realized it had been Carlos, who was now saying, "Holy sh*t, Y/n. You could've cracked your skull. Every day life with you is more dangerous than the life of being a Formula One driv-"

Suddenly, though, Mr. Protect Y/n At All Costs (Charles Leclerc), grabbed your hand, pulling you to him, away from Carlos, and said, "What the hell, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," you said, honestly just embarrassed, glancing to Carlos.

"Sorry, Charles, I didn't want her to crack her skull," Carlos said after Charles sent him a nasty look. "You should be thanking me." Carlos gave his teammate a playful shove on the shoulder and walked away.

"Why don't you sit down and wait for me?" was Charles' suggestion.

"Right."

That night as you drove to the hotel, went inside, got ready for bed, and had a little snack, you didn't speak a word to Charles, and anytime he tried to talk, you didn't have much to say back to him.

Finally, as you finished your little snack, Charles sat down next to you, taking both your hands in his, saying gently and completely seriously, "Y/n, clearly something is wrong. Please know that you can tell me. Was it something that happened today? Did someone bother you? Was it what happened with Carlos?"

"No, no, Charles, they're fine," you murmured, sipping your water. "What Carlos did is fine, too. Good." You tried to show a little lighthearted smile, but maybe it just came off as seeming sarcastic as you said, "I mean, thank God for Carlos. Otherwise I might be in the hospital with a cracked open head, right?"

Charles, as expected, didn't buy it, and took your hands in both of his, saying earnestly with big, worried eyes, "You can tell me what's bothering you, Y/n. I want to help you."

Your jaw clenched as you murmured, "That's just it, Charles. That's the problem."

"What is?" he asked, looking so seriously and utterly confused, it might have been funny if it had been in another situation. "That I want to help you?!"

"No," you shook your head, looking down. "That I need your help. I feel so bad. I'm always messing things up- breaking stuff, hurting myself, being all jumpy. And along with everything else you have to worry about, you feel like you need to worry about me, too. You're just always there, looking out for me and fixing all my dumb mistakes. It's so stupid- but my clumsiness is actually becoming a problem. I don't even care if drivers or the internet make fun of me. It's just, like... you're so protective of me and it's because I can't stay on my two own f*cking feet. I mean, that must be so hard for you- don't you get exasperated with me? I mean I'm fine on my own. But oh my God, I feel like a little kid! You had to tell me not to run into a f*cking wall! A wall! I don't know, Charles... Aren't you sick of me? Aren't I a burden to you?"

The look Charles gave you was probably a mixture of confusion, sympathy, love, and exasperation. Which was a very strange mix, for a very strange expression, before he said, "You aren't a burden to me at all, Y/n... Babe, I love helping you. And, okay, we all have those days when there's a lot on our minds and we do stupid things. You make it seem like everyday there's another thing. There's not. Maybe three times a week you do something a little silly. But I know you. When you're nervous, your head is kind of in the clouds, and you trip up. Literally. On race weekends, you do. And the other thing you always do..." He hesitated, before getting more serious, saying quieter, "Sometimes I think you try so hard to please me, and you get nervous."

You stare, eyes wide. Because you hadn't even realized it, but he was right.

"You don't have to worry about that," he continued gently. "You already please me, without trying. Because I love you and you're gorgeous. You're right that you can take care of yourself, but I like being there for you. I like helping you out, okay?" He leaned in and gently planted a kiss on your cheek. "Besides, I think you being a little accident prone is cute."

"Accident prone and cute, huh?" You looked up, a soft smile appearing on your face and a little giggle in your voice as you leaned closer to him, relief rushing though you, and giving him a cheek kiss back. "I like that."

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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

Text

Summary: Romantic Christmas walk with Charles. Extreme fluffy tropes. Charles being a complete and utter sap.

Requested?: Of course not.

You watch as snow gently falls in the golden glow of the streetlights lining the road. Shops are lit up with warm lights, illuminating all sorts of gifts to be bought by one person for another person they love- teddy bears, golden jewelry, winter attire, and the like.

There's a certain magical feeling in the crisp air gently blowing your hair and stinging your rosy pink cheeks. Golden fairy lights line the buildings, and as you walk past diners and bakeries, sweet scents of soups and pastries fill your nostrils. Despite the cold outdoor temperatures, there's an expected warmth in your heart. Christmas fills the air and your soft heart, and as you near the centre of this little town your boyfriend has brought you to, the sound of a small, makeshift choir singing classical Christmas songs starts to faintly reach your ears.

Your boyfriend's hand slips into yours, his warm gloved hand wrapped around your exposed red freezing fingers. You look up, and your eyes meet his. His cheeks are pink, and steam comes from his mouth as he releases a contented sigh. His eyes shine blue, reflecting the golden soft lights all around you. He looks adorable in his wrapped up scarf and snug hat on his head.

Charles, your boyfriend, wraps his arm around you, pulling your body closer to his as he feels you shiver slightly. You turn a corner, and you set your eyes on the sight of a huge tree, standing at about fifteen feet, covered in sparkling Christmas lights, with a shining star sitting on the top of it. Around the tree stand carolers, basking in the lyrics and feel of the season, many of them holding hands, arms around each other, arms linked, or just standing close together.

The feeling of unity hits you like a blanket warming your soul.

You tighten your grip on Charles' arm, leaning into him, and soft gasp escaping your lips at the lovely sight. "Charles..." you murmur.

He glances to you, a soft smile on his face. "Yes, lovely?"

"This is... amazing."

"I thought you'd like it." When you meet his eyes, he winks at you. You grin, setting your head back against his shoulder, looking up at the lovely tree and listening to the wonderful chorus of all different sorts of voices.

When that song ends, Charles gently asks, "Want to keep walking?"

You nod. As you walk, you feel chillier and chillier, pressing your body closer and closer to Charles', until suddenly he stops and gently nudges you away, before beginning to take off his jacket. "What are you doing?" you ask incredulously.

Charles doesn't respond, and simply drapes his bigger, black coat over your shoulders. The warmth of the coat from being on his body and the scent of his lovely cologne both hit you at the same time, but despite the comfort of his jacket, you say, "Come on now. You're no more immune to the cold than I am. I don't want you to be cold."

"Sh," he hums, and his warm pointer finger goes to your lips to hush you. "I'm just fine."

"Charles, stop," you roll your eyes. "I'm the one who didn't bring a jacket. You did. You deserve to keep yours."

He shakes his head no, and pulls you close to him. Suddenly you feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers gently, "Before we left, I told you to wear a coat. But you said 'No, Charles, because I don't want to hide my cute outfit'," There's a teasing note in his voice as he imitates you and brushes his fingers over your cheek. "You look absolutely stunning, with or without a cute outfit. But I figured I wouldn't argue. So I just wore an extra jacket myself, because I knew you'd be shivering, and I can't have my love being uncomfortable, can I?" There's almost a gentle purring aspect to his voice, which is filled with sugar and honey as he speaks to you in such loving tones.

This time when you say, "Charles, stop," it's with more of an embarrassed giggle than with annoyance.

Both of you seem to accept this, because as you slip your arms in his jacket's sleeves and zip it up, Charles' hand hugs your waist, and the two of you continue walking. The jacket, because of it's size on you, feels like a comfortable blanket. It reminds you of home, and snuggling with Charles. You link arms with him, and he gently kisses your cheek.

As you walk, Charles starts whispering the sweetest things. Sometimes he gets on these rants about how much he loves you and how much he cares about you, and when he starts, there's no stopping his sappy self, so you're forced to listen to his soft praises. "My God, you're so gorgeous. I won't ever be able to stop loving you. Not that I want to. Loving you makes my life so much better. You make my life complete. Like, you are just... lovely and amazing and... I must be the most lucky man on earth to have you. You make me feel so safe and comfortable and I just can't get enough of you. With you, everything is perfect. I don't know how I lived before I met you, and I don't know how I would live if I didn't have you. Babe I just... I'm sorry for going on but..." Suddenly he stops, taking your waist in his hands, pulling your body into his. You look at your head-over-heels boyfriend in amusement as he gives you the most romantic look you've ever seen, pressing his forehead to yours. "Babe, I just love you so much..."

"M-hm... Whatever, you sap," you murmur back in a teasing tone, blushing softly.

"You're going to make me go insane," he swoons.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Keep yourself under control, handsome."

He simply kisses the tip of your nose, saying, "You're still chilly, aren't you?"

"Don't you dare think of giving me your sweatshirt now-"

"No, no!" he grins, leaning his forehead away a bit. "I was just wondering, though... As we were walking, I saw a cute café. I could buy you a nice warm drink."

"Ohhh," you grin. "Well, in that case..."

Charles grins back, and slips around, only having one arm around your lower back, and the two of you start walking.

Soon the two of you arrive at the shop, but before you go in, suddenly there's a flash of passion in Charles' eyes, and he pulls you to him again. You fit together as two pieces in a puzzle, and his warm, soft lips gently meet yours. You feel bad about how cold and chapped your lips feel, but either it's just you, or Charles doesn't mind, because he kisses you deeply, like there's no one else there, like it doesn't matter. Like you're the only one in the whole world. His hand caresses your cheek and he lets out a soft grunt. When he finally pulls away, both of your breaths are quickened.

He whispers into your ear again, with his hot breath, "Sorry... I got a little carried away, babe. Let's get a little something to drink now. Then we can go to the hotel and do whatever we'd like."

You nod, feeling butterflies and excitement at these promising words. He puts his arms over your shoulders, and you walk in together to the romantic little Christmas-decorated café.

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sports-on-sundays · 8 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 5

Warnings : Nausea, vomiting, mention of sex, nudity (not described much), giving birth (not described much), switching from second to third person once at the end

Summary : Charles x princess!reader - Charles and his princess face the possibility of a child.

Author's Note : This is the last part! Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this, as this little series was my first bit of writings on tumblr ! If you enjoyed it, and are a fan of football or F1, I encourage you to check out my pinned post, because I do take requests ! But overall, special thanks from the bottom of my heart for everyone who read, liked, and reblogged this! And enjoyed it!

Here is the link to part 4, which contains a link to part 3, which contains a link to part 2, which contains a link to part 1.

Whoosh. Clip clop clip clop clop clickity clop clip. Fwoom. People chatter all around you, and some passionate individuals further from you scream out towards the track as the chariots go by.

All the noise and dust. You feel thankful for you umbrella, protecting yourself from the sun that could be beaming on you.

You're used to this. You've been to a few more of Charles' races since you married. It's something you're interested in watching. Not to mention that it's also supporting your husband of course.

So you're used to this.

So why, today, does it all seem to be to much? Why does the dust seem a little too hard to breathe, the sun a little too hot, and the sounds a little too loud?

You rub your head, trying to push the uncomfortable feeling out of your stomach. But there's nowhere for it to go.

Oh goodness. How much longer until this race ends?

You keep your mouth clamped shut as you feel anxiety sink in. You feel nauseous... And tired... So tired... And frankly, weak.

Please, Charles. Hurry up. I need this race to finish. I'm not feeling well.

The heat spins, making everything blend together into a mush of colors, and then your hand clamps over your mouth in panic. The umbrella drops from your shaking hand as you run out of the stands, tripping on your pink skirts multiple times. You don't care. You're sure they're now all dirty on bottom, but you just have to get out of here as fast as you can.

The moment you're out, you can no longer hold it back. In a corner, you vomit, tears coming from your eyes along with it, in shame of running out like that, and of throwing up in public like this, just on the ground.

You're glad your hair is tied up in a tight bun.

Finally, you finish, gasping. You stand there, feeling terrible, as your legs shake, your head spins, and your lip quivers. You breathe deeply, unsure of what to do, when suddenly your savior arrives.

Your savior also just happens to be your husband.

"Y/n!" he exclaims after taking in the scene. He runs to you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Charles, I don't want to get you sick..."

"It's okay," he says right away.

"How did you know where I was?"

"Someone told me you ran out so quickly right after I finished the race, so I came looking for you. Let's get going home, then, and get you in bed."

"Ch- Charles...?" you ask softly, glancing to Charles in the eyes, before looking back down at your fidgeting folded hands in your lap. You're sitting on you and your husband's bed in your nightgown as he finishes up getting ready for bed. "I need to... tell you something."

"Of course," he says, looking up in concern. "Anything, Y/n. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... I think you should sit down for this."

Charles' eyebrows scrunch together as he sits down next to you, setting his hand on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. "Yes?"

"I... I... Uh- hm, I think I might be... Charles... I think..." You exhale deeply, before finishing quickly, "I think I'm pregnant."

You must say it so suddenly, it takes Charles a moment to process. He sits, staring, eyes wide for a moment, before saying, a smile lighting up his eyes in excitement, throwing his arms around you, "Oh, my goodness... I don't know what to think... I-!" He squeezes you tighter, showering your cheeks with kisses, saying, "That's good! That's good, isn't it?!"

You nod slowly, feeling stress set in even further. "Y- Yeah..."

"How do you know you're pregnant?"

"Well, I don't know... But I should have gotten my period at least twice already, I think... And I haven't. And as you know, I haven't been feeling well... I don't know when I got pregnant, but... Maybe two months ago roughly?"

"We got married two months ago," Charles points out simply.

"Well, yeah, but... We slept together after the wedding."

"I suppose you're right... I think the midwives have ways if testing it, you know."

You shake you head 'no' slowly. "I think we should just watch it for now."

"Wait, turn around-" Charles suddenly says.

"Charles, it's not the time. I'm trying to get dressed. We're already going to be late, no?"

"It's okay. Just turn around. Please."

You sigh, doing so, and suddenly, his strong, big hands are on your stomach, feeling around. Then they cup a tiny little...

A little bump.

You exhale suddenly in surprise, your hands going to his shoulders.

"Oh, no... My goodness... You really think...?" you stutter softly.

"Yes, I do really think... I think? We should ask the castle's midwives. They have those tests."

You shake your head 'no', though. "We should wait and see if it grows into... well, if it grows into an obvious pregnant belly. I just... I just want to keep this between you and me for now."

"Of course. We'll just keep watching it."

Over the next weeks, the bump grows, until you're sure it must be what you thought it was from the beginning. Once you and Charles verbally decide this with each other, it's like he can't contain his excitement.

At every opportunity, he's kissing your tummy, placing his hands on it. When you cuddle in bed, it's the center of it all. Nonstop, he's talking about how excited he is, and how he can't wait. How he's going to take care of you and the baby. How he wonders if it's a boy or a girl. How he hopes he'll be a good father.

You keep telling him not to get too far ahead of himself, even though soon enough you know the secret of your pregnancy will have to get out. After all, something like that becomes hard to hide after a while.

You love the feeling of his warm hands and loving kisses on you, though. The fact that he has nothing but excitement calms some of your fears over the whole situation.

"May I speak for a moment, please?"

The table goes quiet as all eyes go on Charles. You know what he's about to do. You spoke it over. Regardless, you're still nervous about it for some unknown reason. You know there's really no reason to be...

Right?

But all those eyes on the two of you...

"Me and my beautiful wife are proud to announce that we're going to be having a child."

Those at the table are your family. Charles family, and your father. Both Charles' mother and your father's faces light up with pride. Lorenzo says, "Oh, Charles, that's wonderful!"

And of course Arthur's action is to lean forward (staining his royal white suit in his plate of food) to see if he can see your middle.

Lorenzo quickly orders the youngest Leclerc brother to have his seat and pay attention, because he got food all over his nice shirt.

You sigh of relief. You knew everyone would be very happy to learn of the news. But for some reason, you were still anxious. You're so glad it turned out.

You recline, eating some toast Charles brought to you after you complained about wanting some, licking the blue jam off your fingers, watching and listening as Charles sits at his piano, playing a nice little tune. A song he's apparently creating. He looks elegant and handsome there, sitting straight, his fingers moving over the keys so naturally, looking so relaxed.

King of like an angel, maybe.

But then it happens.

And you're reaction is to sit for a moment, eyes wide, before squealing, "Charles!"

Right away his fingers leave the keys of the piano, and he stands up, looking at you in concern. "Yes, my love? Is everything okay?"

You stare at him. "'My love...?'" you ask. Up until now, all he's called you is 'my wife', 'my princess', or simply, of course, just your name.

"Oh... I said that out loud?" he chuckles, after realising you're okay.

"Yes, you did!" you laugh, both hands resting on your pregnant tummy.

He smiles, sitting next to you. He pulls you onto his lap, placing both hands over yours. "That's how I think of you. I call you that in my head. Guess I've just never spoken it. I thought you would think it's too sappy. But I'm sure you already think I'm too sappy." He kisses your cheek from behind, before gently licking the edge of your ear.

"Oh, stop that!" you giggle

He huffs, but gently leans his chin on your shoulder with a nod. "Anyway, why did you call me over? Do you need something?" He leans back.

"No," you say, remembering with an excited smile. "But the baby moved, I think!"

Right away, Charles hands move under yours, and he sits there, just waiting, until suddenly he also feels it. "Y/n!" he gasps in excitement.

"I know!" You giggle softly again.

He hugs you tight, sighing in contentment.

From then on, every single night in bed, he takes to whispering. Whispering to the child inside of you, and rubbing your tummy. In the beginning, he whispers sweet-nothings in English, but soon enough, he's muttering in his own native language. You always love it when he speaks his language. It puts you right to sleep every night.

"Charles, I can't be going to a wedding!"

"But... we have to go. I know this person too much. If I don't go, that would look terrible. And it would look even worse if I went without you!" You can tell Charles is panicking (as much as he can panic. His panicking is like your moderate worrying) as he paces back and forth, and suddenly, guilt hits you.

"Charles," you sniff, stifling a sob as you look away. "I'm so sorry... I'll try more t-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," he suddenly says, slipping down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. "It's okay. Sh, come on now, it's okay. I'll figure something out..."

"I'm so sorry... You're so stressed, and now I'm crying and you're trying to pretend this isn't bothering y-"

"Hey, it's all right. I just don't want you to cry, okay?"

But you can't help but cry more, "I'm sorry..."

He hugs you tighter. "You're dealing with a lot right now. It's hard carrying a baby. I know you're going through the effects of that."

"I've been aching so much lately..." you sniff.

"I know. It's a lot. I know. I could never be as strong as you are. I could never do that. It'd kill me. You're extremely strong, and I haven't told you that enough, but I'm very proud of you."

You sigh, snuggling into his warm body with a nod. "Thank you... Charles, I'm sorry for overreacting. I am only a little over halfway through this pregnancy. I can still go to a wedding with you. It's okay."

"Are you sure? The last thing I want to do is put you through discomfort."

"No, it's okay. I know I'll be with you. So I'll be okay."

He smiles softly at this comment, rubbing your lower back, where he knows you've been aching a lot. "Okay. Okay."

Lately you've just been staying around home (Charles worries about you going to his races, so you stopped until the baby is born), and mostly just wearing nightgowns or housecoats, so getting a dress to fit around your growing bump is a tiresome pain. Of course the servant girls gush over the baby soon to be born, which just drives you crazy. Only Charles is allowed to gush over it like that. (He does, too. Quite often.) And the chest area of your new dress has to be made larger, as well, of course.

While you're not excited about your growing chest and tummy as much, Charles definitely has been.

"Charles," you breathe, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I'm tired. Can we go? And itchy."

He kisses you and nods. "Of course."

The whole way home, you sleep on his shoulder.

"I had an idea," Charles claims, walking into the room.

"Be quieter," you mutter. Your hands are on your tummy, feeling as the baby inside you move. It still amazes you...

There is a baby growing inside of me.

Charles changes into more comfortable clothes and lays down next to you, putting his hand next to yours.

"What's your idea?" you ask him.

"I'm always touching your tummy. And you are too."

"Sure?" you ask, looking to him. You can't help but laugh softly when you see the little excited hope in his bright eyes. "You're adorable. What's your idea?"

For the past seven months, as you are now that far into your pregnancy, Charles has had that look. He's been so excited. Super protective over you and the child within your womb. He can't wait to be a daddy. And you're sure he'll be a very good one.

Probably a better parent than you'll ever be, anyway.

"I got this scented oil, and I thought it might feel good if I rubbed it on you."

You smile. "Sure. Why not?" You sit up a little, still reclining, as he sits up all the way. You're already wearing underclothes, your belly exposed.

Of course Charles (for no other reason but the desire in his eyes) decides that in order to do this, he must also remove your bra.

Okay, Charles.

But it feels good. It really does. He rubs all over your chest and tummy, and you lean back, letting him, inhaling the sweet scents of the oils.

You sit in the garden by yourself, rubbing your tummy.

The midwives say five weeks.

That number has hit you like the chariots Charles races in.

In five weeks or less, I'll be giving birth to our child.

A year ago, you would have never imagined being here.

You're terrified.

"Y/n?"

You sigh. Charles. How does he always seem to find you? He doesn't let you be upset. He's way too good at comforting.

He sits down next to you in the bench. It's chilly outside, but winter has passed, and you know spring is coming soon. You're wrapped in fur coats. He wraps an arm around your back. "Are you crying?"

You nod slowly.

"Oh, my love," he says, softly trying to wipe some of the tears away with his sleeve. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Giving birth. It's coming so soon."

"I know it is... Why are you scared of it, though?"

"Charles, I don't think you know this. But there's a reason why you've never seen my mother. She passed away years ago. She passed away giving birth to me..."

Charles hugs you tight.

"Sometimes, I wonder how she was. What kind of person was she? What kind of mother would she have been? Was she a proper lady? Did she like athletics? Did she mind a little bit of dirt? Did she have a good sense of humor? My father never talks about her. I always wonder and..." you sniff. "I don't want you to have to tell our baby how I was, or what kind of mother you thought I would've been."

Charles sniffs as well, although he's not crying. "It's... please do not worry about such things. That was twenty-five years ago. Our midwives are very good. Experienced, skilled, and they know what they're doing in order to keep you and our child safe. I would never let anything bad happen to you. Or the baby." He places a hand on your tummy. "I love you both too much."

"But, Charles, what if there's not anything you could do about it? What if no matter how much you love me, it still doesn't work out, and your heart is broken anyway? I'm sure my father told my mother the same kind of things you're telling me before I was born..."

"Y/n, please. Just stop. I know it will be okay. I know we will get through. I know that in five weeks, you'll be sitting with a healthy little newborn in your arms."

"But what if I'm not? What if you're sitting with a healthy newborn in your arms, c- cr- crying? Because I'm-"

"Stop!" Charles suddenly yells, pulling away from you.

You stare at him in awe.

This is the first time he's ever yelled at you.

He continues, voice still raised, "You'll be okay! So will the child, and so will I be! Everyone will be safe and healthy, and everything will go as planned! Okay?" He's on the edge of screaming, his hand gripping your shoulder too tightly. "So stop worrying about nothing!"

You swallow, nodding.

Maybe he's worried, too. And instead of crying about it...

He's yelling about it.

Maybe he's trying to convince not only you of his words, but also himself.

This makes you cry more.

Immediately Charles suddenly softens again, and practically whines, "Please stop crying..." He sighs. "Please..." His head drops onto resting on your pregnant belly, which is now very firm. He stays in his position, but says, suddenly his tone bright, "Let's talk about something else!"

You stare at the back of his head, with his light brown messy hair that's in need of a trim.

When did you start loving this man so much?

You let out a shaky sigh.

In the past minute, he went from comforting, to angry, to panicking, to in a cheery mood.

What?

He continues, "I think after the baby is born, and after your father can no longer rule, Lorenzo will allow us to move to your island, where we can rule together! Doesn't that sounds good, Y/n?"

You shrug and nod, wiping away a tear. "Yeah, that will be nice... That would be... nice. It's what I want. Thank you for working for that for me, Charles."

"Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?" he asks right away then.

You shrug. "I don't know. I'll be happy either way, I guess. I think you'll be a great father, Charles."

He smiles, and chuckles softly. "I hope so, my love. You will be a lovely mother. I can picture you with our baby, drinking from your breast... Your hair falling over your shoulders. Your skin shining golden. The love in your eyes. I'm quite attracted to the concept of you being a mother, Y/n."

You laugh softly. "Clearly. And I doubt my skin will be shining, but we'll see about that, I suppose."

"What are you thinking for names?"

You think a few seconds. "I don't know. Maybe if it's a boy, we could just name him after you. You know, Charles."

"I think our kid should have his or her own name. I don't want them to be named after either of us."

You nod. "Got any ideas, then?"

He shrugs, saying casually, sitting up finally, "For a boy, Jules might be okay."

"Why Jules?"

"My good friend and godfather. That was his name. Really the best man anyone ever met."

"Oh... I-"

"Anyone would be honored to be named after him. Either way, I don't know, though. You have to be okay with it too, and you idin't even know him. Got any ideas for a girl's name?"

You think for a few seconds. "For girls, I've always liked Eleanor. Ella would be a cute nickname. I also like Charlotte. And for boys, Jadon... or James. Something like that. But I don't know. We'll see when the baby comes, I suppose, no?"

He shrugs. "Yes, I suppose so, huh?

For the next weeks, because of Charles care about you, he always wants the midwives near you. Unless he's near you. He loves being alone with you, and gets excited at every single sign that the baby is just around the corner. At every sign, you get more anxious. When false labor starts, Charles stays with you whenever he can, and always makes sure midwives are close to help you in case...

Well, in case it's time.

The anxiety you feel is terrible, but you hide it from Charles.

Despite all the pain you feel as the days go on, and the heaviness of your large pregnant tummy, you prepare a bed for the baby with Charles, and other things your child will need.

You try to push out all your worries, but it's very difficult.

To hear his wife say the words, "It's now. I'm going to have the baby. Soon!"

That's kind of scary.

He gets the midwives right away, and she gets settled in the room they've prepared for her for the birthing process.

My nerves. Oh goodness, these nerves.

Charles' nerves could be cut with a knife.

"Charles, I'm scared."

"It's going to be okay. Just relax," are the words he manages.

Of course, he hates to hear those words, 'Charles, I'm scared,' come from his beloved's mouth. The wavering way it comes from her soft beautiful lips sends a sinking feeling into Charles' chest.

And then the process begins. The midwives try different positions with her, despite her wish to just lay down.

Charles keeps his hand in hers the whole time. It's like as if time stops in that little room, until Charles sees the sun rising outside the window.

How long has it been?

Please. Please, I need this baby to be born soon. She needs this baby to be born soon.

"Keep pushing."

Charles swallows as his wife cries, squeezing his hand tight and continues to moan in pain.

Oh God. Oh goodness, love.

Please... Please... Please make it.

You gasp when you hear the crying of your baby. Charles hand slips out of yours, and you watch as he walks across the room to the midwives. You're so tired, you don't understand what's happening.

You get a sudden sinking feeling.

"Is the- Is the baby okay? A- Alive?" you ask in panic, gripping the bed.

But the tiny little baby is placed into your arms. "Say hello to your baby boy, Princess Y/n."

You feel a tear slip from you eye as you look at the tiny little baby in your arms.

That you and Charles made.

You know, the one that's been causing you problems for the past nine months.

This little guy.

You've grown so much in these past nine months.

You feel Charles arm come around your back.

I can never let anything happen to this little beautiful, innocent, perfect child. I will never let anything happen to him. I can't. I love him too much.

Charles kisses the side of your head.

You sit, rocking the child slowly, for who knows how long, before he starts feeding from your breast. Charles rubs your back softly. "It feels funny," you softly giggle.

Charles laughs softly, too, taking your hand and gently rubbing it. "What did I tell you? I told you it would all turn out, didn't I?"

"Yes," you sigh. "Yes, you did. It was hard, and now I'm so tired I feel like I could pass out, but we made it. All three of us made it."

"You don't have to tell me how hard it was. I was here the whole time," Charles teases, but his smile becomes slightly more faint as he mutters with such love, "I'm so proud of you... It was terrible to watch you in such pain... I knew the least I could do was stay with you no matter what."

"It was hard. One time, you left to go to the bathroom, and I got worried. You know, I begged for you. The midwives told me you'd be back soon. And everything turned out, Charles, didn't it?"

"Oh, my love," he breathes in the sappiest tone. He kisses your cheek again, and you can feel the emotions radiating off of him- excitement, relief, pride, tiredness, desire, but most of all, love. "You should have believed me when I said everything would be okay."

"Yeah, I know..."

"Because here we are. Three of us. All safe and sound."

"Yeah... Three," you smile at the child in your arms.

After quite a long time, you hand your son to his father. Charles holds him, rocking him back and forth. Such contentment.

The way he holds him with that little smile down at the tiny little being. So much love and protection. So much fatherly love.

"I love you," Charles whispers softly, and you know he's talking to both of you.

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sports-on-sundays · 8 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 1

Warnings : Mention of death, Mention of sex, Mention of marriage between a minor and an adult (spoken about as a bad thing, not a good thing), Mention of forced marriage, Switching between second and third perspective, Charles acting a bit spoiled maybe.

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - A prince has seven princesses brought to him, and must choose which one he wants to marry.

Author's Note : I've had ideas like this circulating through my head for quite a while, so I figured this would be something good to start my blog off with, especially since I think it's another idea that a lot of other people might enjoy reading. I'm just starting out my blog, so if you read this and you like it, I would really appreciate if you would hit my ask box and request something to support me and help me get going! And of course reblog and follow would be kind too <3 Thank you, and I hope you enjoy my little story.

Requested? : No.

There are six other princesses travelling by chariot today as well, also headed to the same exact castle you're heading to.

When your father, the king of your small island country, told you that the prince of one of the largest countries nearby was sending in for all the single princesses, both you and your father had a plan.

Unlike a lot of countries, yours is just fine with having a woman rule as queen, by herself, so since your mother passed away in childbirth, and you're your father's only child, you've both basically decided that getting married into some other kingdom's royal family is just about the last thing you want to do.

Apparently, this Prince Charles, who is twenty-five, your age, has been being pressured ever since he was eighteen by his family. The story is that they keep trying more and more ladies from all different countries and families, but every single one he sees he quickly dismisses after meeting them, rejecting every single one.

Which, you figure, means he's a spoiled little ungrateful brat, like many of the royals from surrounding kingdoms and countries. Not surprising.

For seven years, his mother and eldest brother have been searching all over for the woman he'll finally accept. Of course, searching only in royal and noble blood.

So now, they're bringing in seven more princesses to see if he'll accept any of them. You're generally not worried about this conceited prince wanting to marry you, but just in case, you and your father have ensured that there's no chance he will.

So you sit in the covered royal chariot, wearing a plain white dress, a men's cloak, your hair very simply down over your shoulders, and dirt smudged on your clothes and face.

Even though it's not your most favourite outfit, it's worth it to avoid at all costs being forced to court with... someone like Prince Charles.

You're sure he'll be disgusted.

Which is good.

You've met all the princesses that will be arriving as well, and you're sure most of them will be more interesting to a prince such as Charles. Apparently, to them, he's known as the most handsome prince around. All of them would be delighted to marry him, and are surely putting forth their best for the prince.

You're sure he just uses his good looks to fake a charming personality, so people like him. That's what all the princes do, but then when you really get to know them, it turns out their personality is really quite devilish in the end, and it was just an act, a show, to get you interested in them.

Soon enough, the chariot you're in stops, and your driver gets out, holding the curtain for you as you lift your skirt to jump out. The driver offers his hand to you for help, but like always, you ignore it and hop out yourself. It's not like when women jump we break our ankles or something. My goodness. You know deep down inside they're just trying to be honorable and kind, but still.

You look up at the castle. It looks very basic, like many other castles you've seen, with it's tall pillars, carved images, and glorious towers reaching up, slicing into the bright merry blue sky.

"Would you like me to walk up with you, or send a servant to go with you, up to the door, Your Highness?" asks your driver with a very low bow.

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer. I can handle walking by myself. Just carry on."

"Yes, of course, Your Highness," he nods, briskly, with agility, hopping up into the chariot.

You turn away from that, and start walking down the cobblestone path that leads to the third courtyard, which leads to the main gates. When you get to the gates of the third courtyard, a guard grunts at you, not even realizing that you're one of the princesses, because of your means of arrival and presentation, "What's your business here?"

"I'm one of the princesses to meet Prince Charles today," you say simply.

He narrows his eyes. "No, you're no-"

"Listen, guard. This was a message sent only to the princesses, no? How could anyone else know about this? If you do not allow me to enter and go to the castle with all the other princesses here today, I will order my men to go against you in an instant!"

The guard's back straightens. "Right, then, Your Highness! Please, show mercy, and forgive me for my misunderstanding! I'll lead you to where you need to go immediately!"

"You're forgiven. Now, yes, take me there. And let's get this over with."

Charles reclines in his velvet red couch, leaning back as he stares up at the sparkling gold chandelier with a heavy sigh. There's a knock on the door to his room, and he calls, "Who's there?"

His older brother, Lorenzo, enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "Charles, come on now. I thought you were supposed to be getting ready." He ruffles his brother's light, fluffy, tangled hair. "My goodness, Charles, you need to get this cut and washed before you meet the princesses. And clearly you are in need of a shave."

"I don't have to have nice hair or clothes for every last one of those ladies to fall deeply in love with me. In fact, half of them probably are already deeply in love with me," replies the younger with an eye roll and a scoff.

"Charles, you know you have to look more presentable. Stop with all the excuses. Get up now."

"Is Mama gonna cut my hair?"

"Charles, you're just going to have to get it done by a servant. I'm sending one in to get you fixed up now, okay?"

Charles nods, sitting up more with a sigh. "Yes, yes, Lorenzo. Now be on with your day, now, won't you, King?"

"Charles," he says, looking back from the doorway with a sigh. "Do one thing for me, please?"

"Another thing?"

His brother, the king, ignores Charles' little comment and just says, "Please choose your princess today, Charles. Please. Choose the best one for you. I've been trying to give you responsibilities for so long. I think having a lady may help with your..."

"My what? My goodness, Lorenzo, be out of my presence already! Please!"

And with a sigh, the elder brother listens to the younger's order and leaves him to be by himself.

Charles gets up and walks across the room, stopping in front of his mirror to look at himself. His hair is a little tangled, but he doesn't mind it. He always thinks it makes him look better. It reminds him of how he looks after he's won a race, pushed his horses to the limit, with the wind and dust blowing dirt up into his helmet. He's never minded a little bit of danger, and a little bit of dirt. And a little bit of fun.

Yet a part of him loves to look nice, too, for these girls. Not because he's trying to attract any of them.

Maybe just because he feels so strong in those buttoned coats with gold lining, big, black boots, with a beautiful sword at his side.

Maybe all this talk of marriage and pressure to fall in love is a pain, but by now, would he want it any other way?

It's strange the way you get used to the things you hate, so much that you almost start to like them.

The six other princesses sit as far away from you as they can. Naturally, they're disgusted. Not that you care. You figure it's better like that. This way, maybe their sweet perfume won't make you smell any better.

Even the guards in the room seem extremely confused and unimpressed by you.

Which is just fine. It means that hopefully the prince will feel just the same.

Soon, a servant comes in, saying quickly, "I'm sorry for the wait, Most High Ladies of the Land. Our highly respected and honored Prince Charles, the second heir to the throne, after King Lorenzo, may he be honored forever, is still preparing himself to meet you beautiful ladies. I can assure you all that he is very excited to meet you all. Forgive us for the wait."

Of course he's taking long. He's probably quite vain. Just like these girls surrounding you. Quite vain, you know. You can't help but smile to yourself as you ponder upon the fact that perhaps this vain, conceited, self-centred prince could potentially get along quite well with these girls. Prideful people often seem to enjoy the people who are much like themselves, after all, right?

Soon enough, though, they start taking the princesses, one by one, to come and meet the prince. The princesses here are from ages anywhere between fifteen and twenty-five. You realize that the younger one's time meeting Prince Charles is much shorter than the older ones, and even then, the longest time before the servant comes to fetch the next princess is at most fifteen minutes.

Of course, they save you for last. Which you're happy about. After seeing all those beautiful princesses, you're sure Prince Charles will be even more disgusted with you than he would've been originally.

You stand up when the servant gestures you to come, and you walk next to him down the hallway. When you make it to the end of the hallway, there is a small passage with stairs leading up. "I am sorry to tell you that Prince Charles' room is on higher floor. Would you like me to carry you up the stairs, Your Highness?" The servant asks with a bow.

"My goodness! How do you treat your women in his kingdom? What a meeting this shall be with the prince! By the name of God, servant man, no. I can walk up a flight of stairs just fine on my own two feet."

"Of course, Your Highness!" the servant says quickly, and you start walking up the spiraling staircase. You don't doubt that all the other princesses accepted the offer to be carried.

The hallway at the top is much nicer than the one you were just in. It has red carpets, gold lining, and windows all across one wall. You pause to stare out them. They overlook the huge capital city, and you think about all the little common people down there, working for their lives.

It's such a sad concept. While you're up here, worried about having to meet a prince, there are people down there worrying about staying alive.

It's not right. And when you're queen of your island, that's what you want to fix. In your country, your father has it all set up for you.

You want the people to be happy and content.

"Your Highness?" the servant says. "This is Prince Charles' room."

You nod. "Thank you."

"I'll be waiting outside here if either of you need anything."

You nod again, and slowly turn the knob to the door, before stepping in, closing the door behind you gently with a quiet click.

You have never been in the bedroom of a prince before.

There's a huge window overlooking a beautiful bright bluebody of water, which you assume must be the ocean. On the wall is a breastplate and two swords. There's a large wooden wardrobe with beautiful carvings all over it, and sitting on top of it are two helmets- one look's like a knight's helmet, shining with steel, and the other a horse racing helmet with red streaks painted on the sides. Next to the wardrobe is a painting hanging on the wall of a young man with dark shaggy black hair and a playful smile, wearing the elaborate outfit of a king, despite not having the looks of a typical solemn painting of a king. There's a wall with lines of different kinds of plaques and trophies on shelves, glass doors covering them. Prince Charles has a huge grand, wooden but painted white, piano. His huge bed has curtains surrounding it, and next to the bed is a little nightstand. There's a huge desk with parchment and ink sitting on it, and there's a soft red rug over the floor. Hanging on the wall is a large, beautiful, tinted, full body mirror. There is a large empty fireplace, and with it a red velvet couch and matching chair. Next to these pieces of furniture is a table on which a map, a compass, and a bowl of fruit sits. The whole room smells like sweet, calming incense.

And then, after viewing the room, you turn to view the much less interesting prince. He looks like every other. Sure, his face is exceptionally handsome compared to the others, but who cares? He's not that glorious. He wears a tall black shiny boots, red pants, and a long white double-breasted jacket unbuttoned with gold buttons and gold furnishing. Underneath his coat he wears a soft looking poet shirt. The whole outfit fits him quite well, and compliments his thin, lean, but very strong figure nicely.

But the best of his outfit is the sparkling gold crown upon his head. It shines with all different kinds of lovely colorful sparkling jewels. You can't help but think about how heavy that must be on his head.

His brown hair is nicely styled, his eyes bright, and his white smile likely fake.

But the smile quickly vanishes as he can't help but express the surprise on his face when he sees you. "H- Hello," he says. "You are...?"

"Princess Y/n. It's nice to meet you, Prince Charles." You curtsy.

"Nice to meet you, too, Princess," he says with a quick bow, obviously trying not to express his emotions on his face. It's hard not to laugh at this. At this little rich prince trying to hold it together. He takes a step closer to you. "How old are you?" is his first question. He speaks with the accent that it seems many people from this country speak with. You can't help but wonder to yourself if this country has it's own native language.

"Twenty-five, Prince."

He nods. "Me as well. What kingdom are you from?"

You tell him about the island kingdom you come from, and, as expected, he doesn't end up having ever really heard of it much. "How far off the coast are you?" he asks.

"It took half a day to sail here."

He nods once again. "Alright... Uh, why don't you sit down here next to me," he starts, walking to the velvet couch, "and I can tell you a bit about myself, if that's okay with you."

"Of course, Prince. Go on," you answer as you sit down next to each other on the couch. You look over his nice appearance once again.

"I'm the second son of my father, may he rest in peace. My elder brother is king of this country, and my younger one, Prince Arthur, rules nearby conquered land. Me and my wife would be the rulers of a section of land that we have just won over in war, across the river."

"So you're telling me that regardless of being older than your brother, he rules more than you and has a wife, while you don't?" You really couldn't care less. You're just trying to make him dislike you.

He clenches his jaw and says, "It's just taken a little longer for me... I guess."

"Why do you think that could be?"

"I... well, Princess, so far in my life, I've chased after things besides ruling and marriage."

"Right," you say simply.

"So... tell me about yourself. What... makes you... you?"

You can't help but softly chuckle at that question, as the Prince's eyes look you up and down. "Well, isn't this meeting really only about two things?"

"Two things? I'm sorry?" he asks in confusion.

"Whether the princess' beauty suits your tastes, and whether she'll be good to make you your babies."

He stares, wide eyed. "Wow... egh, you're honest, now, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," you respond with a shrug.

"Right..." is all Charles says, at a loss for words at the princess' way of speaking. This is the first princess that's been so... blunt with him.

And he realizes perhaps this is why he has been avoiding marriage for so long.

He'd rather not getting married to a woman for her intense beauty, and only use her for sex to have his children. He doesn't even want children. Or a wife.

He really just wants to be for himself. Adventure. Have fun. Make the most of life.

"So, Prince Charles, you said you've been chasing after other things besides marriage and ruling? I'm curious to know what."

He swallows. "Really, my lady, it should not matter. I'm really leaving that old life in the past." Or at least trying. Really, every part of Charles hates to think about leaving that life in the past. It's a life he loves.

But, as everyone seems to say to him, Charles, you're not a little boy anymore. You're a grown man at twenty-five, and it's pathetic how little you've got done in life.

To them, what Charles has done is pathetic. To Charles, what he's got done is success.

"I still want to hear, Prince Charles."

Charles sighs. He figures it doesn't matter if this girl knows or not. He's sure no one would want him picking her, anyway. So who cares if she has a strange view of him? "I love chariot racing. It's my passion. I love it so, so much. See those trophies in that case? Those are from racing. I love the adrenaline, and the danger. I love the speed. That's one thing. I also love music. I play on that piano all the time. I'm not interested in getting married... I mean, I guess I can be kind of romantic, but I don't want to get married for the reasons everyone says I should. They always bring me these women that all seem to act exactly the same, with the same clothes, same personality... And then they get annoyed at me for loving none of them. They try to put me in armor and get me to fight if I'm not going to marry, but that's never turned out either. Even though I have the strength for it, I don't want to do it. I don't want to go out on battlefields and shed the blood of other men. Maybe that makes me a coward, I don't know. Maybe it makes me 'not a man'. I don't know. But I can't help it. It's just the way I am."

The look on this princess' face seem to be a mixture of extreme curiosity, regret, worry, and empathy. Which is confusing.

"Prince Charles, I'm sorry. You're very unlike many princes I've met. But I think you're just fine."

"I'd say you're quite unlike all the princesses I've met. And I think you're fine, too. The bothersome thing is that I basically have to choose one of you seven today. By the way, Princess, usually I wouldn't be saying this. But I just can see that you aren't like the rest. I can tell I can trust you."

"Why do you have to choose one of us now?" the girl questions.

Charles sighs, glancing down at this rug. "I don't want to make this seem like this is any of my family's doing. They love me, and want the best for me. But I have advisors put in place, that in a way have authority over me, and have told me if I don't choose a princess today, then they'll choose. And I know who they'll choose. There's a princess in a very, very large kingdom very nearby, and they've been waiting until she turns fifteen. She's fifteen now, and I'm sure they'll force me to marry her, because having a marriage with a kingdom as big as that is just wise, when it comes to government. But I am not marrying mere girl who is ten years younger than me. There is no way."

She nods. "That's... That's good. Very wise. There are lots of princes I know of that would do just that. So I respect your decision in that very much. But I suppose the best thing for you to do is to just choose the nicest out of those girls to marry. It's a hard situation to be in, though. I'm sorry for you."

"Are you really a princess?" Charles asks, looking the woman in her eyes.

"Yes, I am."

Charles reaches over and wipes a smudge of dirt off her cheek with his thumb, before holding it up in front of her. "What is this all about then?"

"I didn't want to doll myself up. Just like you, I don't want to marry, really. I'm into other things that are uncommon as well."

"Like what, Princess?"

"Well, racing as well. I like hunting with my bow and arrow. I love swimming, and going for walks, and gardening. Most people think princesses always enjoy indoors more, but I love the outdoors. And luckily, in my kingdom, I'm allowed to spend my time outside. I don't like singing or dancing or reading or knitting or doing makeup or dresses or anything, like most people expect princesses to."

Prince Charles suddenly takes your hand and says intensely, "I have an idea."

You narrow your eyes at him, feeling suspicion sink deeper within you. "What...?"

"If neither of us want to marry, then if we married each other, then we could get along more. Like, I'm not saying we fall in love. I'm just saying if neither of us are willing to fall in love, then we marry each other."

"I see your point, Prince Charles," you start, "but it's quite selfish, what you're planning. While you're being forced to marry, I'm not. So while for you it would be a step up, for me it would be a step down."

He continues to hold your hand, though. "I would let you live in your country and rule it as you please. Please, Princess Y/n. It would be... such a favor for me. Seriously, the only time you'd have to see me is when we're invited to dinners and what not."

"Oh, yes, the only time I'd have to see you is for dinners, and as well, perhaps, to come to bed with you to give birth to your heirs! Prince, I do not-"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What? It's rude to interrupt."

"I've stopped trying not to be rude by now! Just let me ask my question!"

"Go on, Prince Charles."

He sighs, giving your hand a little squeeze. "Do you realise that if you want to protect your own kingdom, and keep it as it is as well, that you're going to need an heir?"

You swallow.

What a terrible, awful turn this has taken.

You should've just dressed and acted like all the other princesses.

But you had no idea that Prince Charles would be so...

Such a square peg in a round hole.

Much like you are.

This time you squeeze his hand, which is very, very smooth, and would feel nice, if it weren't so sweaty at this very moment.

He barely whispers, "Please."

He's so desperate.

What will your father say?

You suppose you'd just have to explain the whole thing to him.

"Listen, Prince Charles," you say, slipping your hand out of his, standing up. "I do not want to marry you. I ask you not to marry me. But I understand your point of view, and I understand that I should expect that regardless of what I've said, you still might choose to marry me."

He stands up with you. After getting to know him more, he looks much more handsome than he did in the beginning.

And then he says something shocking. "I think you're beautiful."

You stare, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?"

He reaches over and wipes the other smudge of dirt from your face. "I think you're beautiful."

"How? I went out of my way to look ugly."

"It's your personality that shines through those lovely eyes of yours."

"Wow... Thank you, Prince... You weren't lying when you said you were... romantic. Although you know if this is some way to manipulate me into wanting to marry you, I'm sorry. I've got my mind set on no."

He shakes his head. "That's not what I was trying to do. I was just telling you that... Showing you that... No matter what you do to your appearance, I still thought you're beautiful."

You stare into those bright green eyes, and for a moment, there's a little pit in your stomach. But not a bad one. Like there's something flying up within you. You take a step closer to him, and say, "Prince Charles, you are a very special person. You really are. To see past all the makeup and dresses and perfumes, and look for the one with the personality you like the most? That's extraordinary."

He gently puts his smooth hand to your cheek and says, "You've got to be special as well. After all these years of seeing all these ladies and princesses that I could choose to marry, and you're the first one I have any kind of feelings for. Your humility is so admirable... You just want to be there for your country. You're amazing."

You swallow, nodding. "I don't want to marry, but out of all the princes I've met, you're the only one I would marry if I had to."

"You're the... You're the princess I would marry, and I have to."

You sigh. "I beg you not to say me, but I understand, fairly enough, you're looking at your own best interest. So if you... If you end up having to say me, please let me be there for your country."

"I'll say you, but I'm putting a lot on the line."

"Like what?"

"If my advisors don't like you, which is likely, they'll make me marry the fifteen year old, likely. But it's worth it. I think putting so much on the line is worth it to be with a lady like you. Because I know I won't meet another princess like you. They likely won't even let me, though, so you're probably safe."

And suddenly, your heart softens as you look at his longing eyes, and you say gently, "Prince Charles, say you'll sleep on your decision. They'll have us princesses stay at this castle for the night. In the morning, I'll make sure I look just like the others."

"Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?"

"Just so your advisors accept me."

He stares, wide eyed, before suddenly hugging you.

"Oh my goodness," you breathe.

"Don't tell anyone I've hugged you."

Hugging is reserved for, in tradition, only those who are courting or related to each other, so this in a way fills you with guilt, because you know how much people would look down on you if they knew he was hugging you so tight.

You smile to yourself, though, and hug him back, even tighter.

Who cares if they look down on you?

Prince Charles steps away out of the hug, before bowing to you, taking your hand, and kissing it, before saying, "I suppose you should leave now, Princess Y/n. I'll see you later."

237 notes · View notes

sports-on-sundays · 8 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 4

Warnings : Switching between second and third person, Making out, Nudity (not described much), Sexual activity (NO sex. And NOT described much. I do not write people actually having sex- I don't write smut.)

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - Prince Charles finally gets to marries his princess.

Author's Note : Link to Part 3, which has a link to Part 2 attached to it, which has a link to Part 1 attached to it. After this one, there will be one more part, making this a five part story. Funnily enough, while writing this, I was listening to Charles' songs. Tell if there were any warnings I missed. Enjoy!

Requested? : No.

Four hours.

After the kiss at the ball, it was decided that your wedding should be rescheduled for a week earlier than originally planned, because according to Charles' advisors, 'You can not be doing such open and dramatic things with each other before you're married, and especially not in public."

You don't mind it being a week earlier. It means you can get the wedding over with. It's happening no matter what, so who cares if it's a week early? It's been making you nervous enough for the past weeks, anyway. At least after it's over, you won't feel nervous about it anymore.

You're trying on the dress you'll be wearing for the wedding. At the beginning of courting, you were measured, so that a dress could be fitted for you, but now they're just putting on the finishing touches.

You feel simply gorgeous in it, and you suddenly feel the excitement and nervousness hit about the wedding for the first time.

But there's no time to dwell on it, as female servants fuss over you, making sure you look perfect for your prince tonight.

Four hours.

"Are you excited?"

"Of course!" Charles replies to his older brother. "I love this woman! My God, I can't wait to see her... To put the ring on her finger, and kiss her, and then eat the cake with her and dance and then after the ceremony and the dance..."

Lorenzo chuckles. "I don't want to hear you describe what you two will do after the ceremony and the dance."

But Charles mutters under his breath, "In a way, that's the part that I'm most nervous for."

For, of course, in tradition, after the prince marries his princess, they go into his bedroom and sleep together for the first time. And there's no way Charles is going to be breaking that tradition- he and his wife are already twenty-five, and it's important they have their babies as soon as possible. Many men his age already have three children.

"Well, Charles, I know you'll be fine. Just enjoy your night. Because it's all yours. Now I'll leave you and the servants for you to get ready."

Charles nods, fidgeting with the bracelets on his wrist unconsciously.

"Do you want to see yourself in the mirror?"

"Of course," you nod, standing up. The dress has a sweetheart neckline, and hugs your waist and chest, with embroidered little flowers. It fades out into a flowing skirt, the embroidery flowing out along with it. You twirl in a circle with a soft giggle, excited to see the intense love in Charles' eyes that you know will be there when he sees you.

You lift your veil, which is being held by a sparkling flowery clip, to view your makeup. Your eyebrows are darkened, and so are the outsides of your eyes, making them surprising and striking when the veil is lifted- something Charles will need to do, of course, in order to kiss you. There's pink blush on your cheeks, and your lipstick a light red. All your freckles and imperfections are covered, except for a few beauty marks. You're glad they decided not to cover those. Your earrings and necklace match the clip in your hair, which is tied behind in a complicated braided bun.

There are only two extreme discomforts- one being the heels you're wearing under your dress, and the other being the tightness of your corset. But you figure you'll just have to get over those unconveniences.

Regardless, you can't wait to walk up that aisle to your prince.

Your prince charming.

It's crazy that less than a month ago you were thinking precisely how not charming he seemed.

Now, somehow, he's changed your mind.

Charles listens to the piano play as his nerves rise practically above his head, standing up there in the front of the chapel, in front of all those spectators and eyes, waiting for his princess to come to him. His wife. His...

Yes, his love.

And then, she enters.

And his heart practically stops.

Her in that beautiful dress. He can't even see her face very well from here through the veil, which just raises his nerves even more, in excitement to see how gorgeous her face will look.

Then she makes it to him, and stands, facing him. They hold each other's hands. She's wearing smooth silk gloves. Charles can only really see her striking eyes well through the veil, and realizes now that must be the point. It must be the point, to make him only be able to see his beautiful wife once he lifts her veil.

As they go through the ceremony and the vows, Charles hardly listens, in awe of the princess. The young couple stares at each other, both taking in the electricity called love in the other's eyes.

And then finally, the words.

"The Prince Charles and Princess Y/n may express their love in marriage in a kiss."

And, goodness, does Charles express his love.

He gently lifts the veil, and his breath slightly hitches in surprise when he views his beautiful new wife. But then his hands slip to her waist, and as he kisses her, her arms wrap around his shoulders and neck.

A passionate, slow, long kiss. It goes longer than it should, but neither of you care. You're just enjoying each other's sweet lips, and the sensation of really, actually kissing.

There's so much love and adoration...

It's glorious. The best kiss you think you'll ever receive.

So you savor it.

Finally, he pulls away, looking at you with an intense but gentle, half-lidded look in his eyes, and it hits your heart like an arrow when you finally realise what that look he seems to give you every so often is.

It's pure love in his eyes.

You wish that kiss never had to end.

And then you take his hand, entwining your fingers in his, and you walk down the aisle together. He squeezes your hand, and the guests leave the chapel behind you as you head down the hall to where the ballroom is.

"You're so lovely," Charles whispers to you.

"You're stunning too, you know." He's wearing very fancy clothes. Nothing you haven't seen him wear before, though, but regardless, on this day, there's a look in his eyes that make him look extra handsome.

You head to the table and sit together in front of your cake. He has his arm around your waist, and once all the guests have arrived in the room and are seated, Charles cuts a piece for you, and then for himself. Arthur raises his wine glass and calls, "Cheers to Prince Charles and his new wife, Prince Y/n! May they be blessed with happiness, wisdom, joy, contentment, long life, and many children!"

And at that, all the raised drinks clink together, and everyone drinks to that. Including you and Charles.

Once the meal is over, Charles gives Y/n's waist a little squeeze, before whispering, "Care to dance, my love?"

She seems to blush, and giggles softly, before nodding. "I'd love to, Prince Charles."

He nods and takes your hand, and the two of you stand up. He takes you onto the floor, and right away the music starts. Other couples enter the dance floor as well when they see the two of you beginning to dance. But once again, just like the last time you danced together, they all seem to disappear, and it's just you and Charles. Since you've already practiced before, right away Charles twirls you and dips you and swings you, and there's no shame having all eyes on you as he kisses you more times than you can count throughout the night, because this is your night.

And it's lovely.

As the last song slows and comes to an end, and you look into his eyes, you know this is a night you will never, ever forget.

Soon, then, he thanks everyone involved with the ceremony, before saying as he dismisses himself, holding your hand, "Now me and my wife will be going to my bedroom to be left alone." And he picks you up, carrying you bridal style (this time you actually are a bride), and carries you out of the room.

And this time, as he walks, you decide not to tell him to put you down. You are married, after all. And you're tired after all that. Your feet ache terribly, and many times you felt just slightly light-headed from the tightness of your corset.

You lean your head against your chest as you brain rushes through everything that has happened in really the last month.

It's scary.

You went from single and happy to married to the most handsome prince on the continent.

You went from walking in dirty, wearing servants' clothes, to being carried in this man's strong arms, feeling more beautiful than you've ever felt in this wedding dress.

The quickness of it all is frightening.

But you suppose there wasn't much you could do to help it.

The only thing you can think to reassure you is if he saw you and loved you even when you were dirty and in a peasant's outfit, he saw something within. So hopefully he didn't make a mistake.

Soon enough, you're at his bedroom door, and he opens it, setting you down gently. You wobble on your aching feet, and as he's shutting the door, take off your heels.

Then Charles comes back to you, and immediately, his lips meet yours once again. You kiss each other, and apparently he was pushing you forward in the kiss, because soon your back is against the wall.

Finally he leans away. He sighs deeply, before reaching behind your back, starting to untie your dress. You swallow. "So... We're going to do this."

He just nods. You can't tell if he wants to or if he doesn't.

Either way, you nervously look him in the eyes as he slips the veil clip out of your hair, setting it down on his dresser. He looks your face over, before taking all the pins and pieces out of your hair, unraveling it, so that it's down, over your shoulders.

Then he slowly slips your dress down, and suddenly you get a pit in your stomach when his eyes widen, looking at your body, which is still covered by your underclothes- bra, corset, underwear. You don't have enough time to think about what the look on his face could mean, before he says, "What is this?"

Oh, God, no. No. No, no, no. "What is what?" you manage.

"How do I get this off of you?" he says, putting his hands on your corset. "I know it's a corset but... It's squeezing the life out of you. Did they make you wear this?"

You sigh in relief. His reaction wasn't disgust about you. It was disgust about the corset. "Yes, Charles. Many women wear them. It's nothing to worry a-"

"Yes it is," he says, immediately going to taking it off of you. "Surely this is terrible uncomfortable, and for your wedding day!"

"Charles, it's not like the heels are comfortable either... I had to look beautiful for you."

A look of confusion with the slight disgust that's already there forms on his face as he shakes his head. "I personally don't think my love suffering when it should be one of the best days of her life is a beautiful concept at all. You're beautiful either way, whatever you wear! You don't have to destroy yourself in order to 'look beautiful for me'. You're already stunning to me, without even trying! Curse whoever made you wear this! I'm going to be having some words with them!"

"Charles, no," you say softly, seeing how fired up he's getting about this. "You talking with someone isn't going to change anything. Most men would be disgusted if their wife wasn't wearing a corset on her wedding day. You're different than most, which is good, but still, that's a minority. It wouldn't do anything good. It would only give people an even lower opinion about you. It's just not worth it."

He shakes his head, throwing the corset on the floor as if it's the Devil himself, saying, "I don't think you need that. You don't need to wear that for me, at least. I don't want you to. It looks like it hurts."

"It is quite tight..."

He nods, putting his hands on your bare waist gently, which gets your heart rate up faster. He looks into your eyes. "You're much more beautiful with a natural waist than with that thing. You don't have to go through the pain for me. I don't care about high heels, either. You don't have to wear those things for me."

You nod. "Thank you... You're... Every day, I like you more and more."

"For me, I'm at the point of love," he says softly, stroking your cheek.

"I'm approaching there too... I think. It's just crazy this has happened all in one month. A month ago, I didn't know you. I hated you. I had so many incorrect judgments about you."

He chuckles. "Well, I'm glad you changed your mind."

He then slips his coat off, hanging it up next to your dress, and unbuttons his vest. You sit down on the side of the bed. He lights some candles around the room, and closes the curtain. Then he gets some incense burning, before finally going to unbutton his last shirt. You stare as his toned chest slowly becomes revealed to you. You stand up, walking to him, before your kiss meets his bare shoulder. You kiss him all along his collarbone, before looking back up to him, staring into those lovely eyes. He's smiling softly, and kisses your forehead. You sit back down on the bed, as he slips off his pants. He ruffles his hair a bit, before looking to you.

Suddenly, he pushes you onto the bed, leaning over you. He makes out with you, slipping his hand under your bra, you slightly gasp into his kiss, but he ignores it, and keeps kissing you, more aggressively than he was before.

You feel yourself heating up as your heart beats quicker and quicker. There's a bubble of nervous anticipation and excitement in your chest, which is spreading out to your whole body. It causes you to giggle into his kisses at the beginning, before you settle into the love that he is showering over you.

Finally, he pulls away with a soft grunt, before whispering softly to you, so that you can feel his breath on your ear, "Are you ready to go further now, ma chérie?"

You find yourself panting as you nod. "Do whatever you want to me."

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sports-on-sundays · 8 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 3

Warnings : Switching between second and third person

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - Charles and Y/n grow closer and closer as they court.

Author's Note : I hope you guys aren't minding the way I decided to transfer race car driving into this AU as chariot racing. Link to Part 2, which has the link to Part 1 attached to it.

Requested? : No.

A week later, you are back at the castle in which the prince Charles lives. You are wearing a dress that goes down to your knees, stockings underneath, and a hand band in your hair. A servant is leading you down a cobblestone trail, in a beautiful garden with old mysterious trees and bright sweet flowers, to where Prince Charles is apparently waiting for you. The garden is very nice, and obviously taken care of very nicely. It's a peaceful place to be.

And sure enough, soon enough, there he is, with the sun shining on him. He is wearing less fancy clothes than you have ever seen him wearing before, but in your opinion, looks better than any other time you have seen him before. When he sees you, his face immediately lights up. "Hello, Princess! Come here and sit down next to me on this bench. Servant, you can be off, then."

The servant nods, bows, and turns, walking off, as you walk over to Prince Charles and sit next to him. Right away, he takes your hand in his, and says, "What was your father's reaction at hearing about my request and want to court and marry you?"

"Well, he was quite worried. He cares about his country, and wants to make sure I will be there for it... In a way, I am worried, too."

"Do not be. I have a plan forming in my mind."

You look at him in his sparkling ocean green blue eyes. "What is it?"

He hesitates. "I don't want to get your hopes up..."

"Tell me."

"If I can convince Lorenzo... Perhaps when we marry, instead of ruling and living in this kingdom, we can rule in your kingdom, together."

"What about the land you have responsibility for?"

"Well, at this point, it's Lorenzo ruling that land, along with the main one, and he's not having any issues. And if he started to have issues, he could give it away."

"Give it away? No king want to give away land."

"Lorenzo might if it's too much of a pain. And not many people live there, either. There aren't many resources on it, and the bordering kingdom next to us has been pressuring us for it for a while."

You nod slowly. "So you're saying we would rule my country, together? As the king and queen?"

"That's what I'm thinking. I would be more in charge if you wanted me to be, and if you wanted to be in charge more, you would be. Either way, we'd support each other in it. But don't tell your father about this. We'll just have to see."

You nod again. "Alright. Fair enough. I understand."

"By the way, you look beautiful today."

"As do you look very handsome," you smile.

Then he shows you around the gardens. For the first several days of courting he just shows you around the whole huge castle. You get to see the gardens, the arsenal, the fountain and pool, the beach, the porch, the throne room, the ballroom, the bath house, the old chapel, the great chamber, the servants' and guards' sleeping quarters, the courtyards, the stables (and of course the horses that carry him on race day), the kitchens, the drawing room, the offices, the training grounds, the race track, and even more. Everywhere he goes with you he holds your hand and looks out for you. He doesn't care if you wear heels and nice dresses, so most of the time you just go in boots, stockings, and simple dresses. And regardless of what you're wearing, he always reminds you, without failing, of your beauty.

And with every day, he seems to get more and more attractive.

In fact, on the day when his hair is falling on his forehead and his clothes are simpler, looks just as good as when he's all fixed up and dressed nice. You love his laugh and all the different unique and silly stories he has to tell about each room. He asks you questions, too, and you become more and more comfortable talking with him. He talks, you listen. You talk, he listens.

In a way, the connection with him seems to grow. Your hearts go out for each other more and more, and there's a spark in between the two of you.

You genuinely enjoy Prince Charles. You genuinely love his company. You love being with him.

"Prince Charles, how many children do you want?" you ask him. You're sitting together on the outdoor porch. His arm is gently resting over your shoulders, and you're just enjoying the day together.

"You know you can just call me Charles. You can drop the title."

"Really? That isn't disresp-"

"I intend to treat you like you are- on the same level as me. Many people believe men are on a higher level. I believe you're not lower than me, and so in the same way, why should you believe I'm higher than you?"

You nod. "I always love what you have to say, Charles."

"That's good," he grins. "Because I think I talk quite a bit." He waits a few seconds, before saying, "Anyway, to answer your question... I've always wanted three."

"Always?"

"Yes. I've always wanted a family, Y/n."

"I thought you said you didn't."

"I never wanted to start a family with any of the women who were brought to me. And I never wanted to start a family if it was going to keep me from my passions, like racing, and music. But I know with you, it won't. I've always loved family, and longed to start my own. And I've always wanted three children."

"Why three?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I have a sweet spot for it. Maybe because I have two brothers."

You nod. "That makes sense."

"But I know you don't want a family, let alone a big one. So if you only want one child, I understand, and we can aim for that."

"No, it's okay... I'll have to think about it. But you're growing on me."

He smiles. "That's not the first time you've said that to me."

"It's because your stupid handsome face and your stupid sweet personality seem to just keep growing on me more and more."

"Good," he chuckles. "That's the way we want it."

You sit in silence together for a few more minutes, before Charles says, "Tomorrow, I need to go."

"Where?"

"I have a race."

"Where? Can I come?"

"Sure!" he says right away, as though he was just waiting for you to say that. "You can come! We'll leave tomorrow morning!"

"I'm excited to see you race."

"And I'm excited for you to see me race."

Charles puts on his racing suit, and he can only think about Y/n. He exhales slowly. Can't think about her right now. I just have to focus on what I'm about to do out there. As he checks on his horses, he thinks about the ride over, and how he talked with her about racing, and she said she always has had a passion for it.

Everything I learn about her, I become more and more convinced we're made for each other.

His teammate Carlos walks in to check up on his horses. Carlos is a prince and a knight in his country, and his father, a former racer, is the king. It's very common for richer folks to be in the sport of chariot racing. "Charles," starts his teammate. "I've heard the news."

"Which news?"

"I saw your princess out there, waiting to watch us."

"Lovely, isn't she?"

"I suppose so. I'm just astonished you've finally got someone."

"She's a sweetheart."

"I'm sure," Carlos chuckles as he realises by the look in his teammate's eyes how much he really does have an affection for her.

Charles and Carlos have been teammates for around four years now in their team, and as the older one by three years, Carlos has always been prone to teasing Charles about his lack of, as Carlos cruelly has put it in the past, 'getting women'.

Soon enough, Charles finds himself getting into his chariot, getting for a race.

And soon, they wave the flag, and every other though vanishes from Charles head as the race begins.

You don't mind that Charles is sweaty and dirty. You hug him tight and kiss his cheek, exclaiming, "What an amazing race! You're such a good driver!"

Charles laughs out loud, giving you a kiss back on your cheek."Thank you!"

You look into his happy eyes, and you feel warm inside.

Content.

Charles ended up getting second place. He turns as someone you recognize enters the room. "Oh, you're Prince Carlos!" you exclaim.

He smiles a bit with a wave. "Hello, Princess Y/n."

"I didn't even realise it was you!"

He nods with a shrug. "Maybe I'm not that recognizable."

"No, I think you are," you smile. "It's great to see you."

"You too," he nods respectfully, before walking on.

You look back at Charles, and once again, you feel that spark between the two of you.

After that, every single race he has for that next month of courting, you're sure to go to. And you always cheer him on.

"There's a ball in another kingdom that I was told we should go to together," Charles says to Y/n before he leaves her to go to the room she's been sleeping in for bed.

"What day?"

"Overmorrow."

You nod. "Who will be there?"

"Oh, many royals. I know that Arthur and Lorenzo are going with their wives. So are some of the guys I race with."

You nod. "Alright... It's not my thing, but let's make it fun. I'm sure you'll look wonderful."

He winks. "I can't wait to see you. Anyway, good night, now." He gives you a peck on your lips before you both go off to your beds to sleep.

Apparently, when it comes to balls (you've never attended them really), at least for this kingdom you're going to, the ladies ride to it separately from their men, and when they get there, the servants at that castle fix them all up.

So you ride in a chariot with Lorenzo and Arthur's wives.

They're nice ladies, but you don't necessarily long to be best friends with them.

You're relieved when you finally get there, only to have to be put into a room with more princesses.

Which is not a relief.

They talk about the silliest things.

You suddenly feel very lonely. You miss Charles, despite having seen him just this morning. You think about his shining eyes, fluffy hair, and bright smile that would cheer you up right now. He has much better things to talk about, that you love hearing about. Not the things that these ladies talk about.

You find yourself becoming antsy as your heart aches for Charles.

"Is something wrong?" asks Arthur's wife, who is a doll.

"No. I'm fine. But thank you for asking," you say, faking a smile, as two female servants come to you and start preparing you for the ball.

What stupid traditions.

Charles stands in his ballroom outfit, his hair fixed up, his face clean-shaven, ready to see his princess.

His soon-to-be-bride.

That's an exciting thought.

He feels himself becoming impatient as his foot taps on the smooth floor.

And then, after what seems like much too long, she comes.

And he looks right at her, ignoring all the other princesses around her.

Just stares at her unique, amazing, mesmerizing beauty.

She wears a light pink dress that highlights her curves and body, before puffing out at her waist. It has no sleeves and intricate designs on it. The skirts flow out... Charles breath is stolen away. He stares in awe. The back of it shows her back, and is tied by pink ribbon that ends in a bow. Her makeup is beautiful, sparkling around her striking eyes. Her whole face shines, and the little bit of pink on her cheeks is simply adorable. Her lips are light pink and shining.

And I wish we were married, because then I would bring her into the middle of the floor and kiss those lips like I mean it.

Charles' heart rate quickens at this temptation, and he immediately takes the woman's waist, pulling her to him.

"D- Do you like this...? I don't know if..."

"Oh, sweetheart," breathes the prince, leaning in close, so that their noses are barely an inch apart, "You're... I... I love this. Don't you ever doubt your beauty... You are simply stunning."

"Y- You are too..." you respond, looking into those shining eyes. He's wearing black fitting pants with a black button down sleeveless vest. Under the vest he wear a white shirt with a smaller jabot, with a dark glimmering jewel pinned at his collar. His white sleeves are lose, and in the pocket of his vest is a pocket watch with it's silver chain hanging out and another jewel pinned at the top of the pocket. He takes one of your hands, leaving the other on your waist, and you see that he also has some rings on his fingers. "You look amazing."

He smiles and asks, "Shall we dance, then, my princess?"

"Yes," you laugh softly. "I suppose we shall."

You start out just swaying slowly together, before he gradually starts stepping with you. After a few times of missing a step and nearly tripping (every time he makes sure you don't), you stutter, "S- Sorry I'm not as good at this as you are... I haven't danced much... I learned a long time ago and haven't done it often since..."

But the grace in his eyes calms your anxiety. "It's okay. I don't mind at all."

"Are you sure? Like, it's not very romantic if I keep-"

"Sweetheart, just look into my eyes. Quit looking at your feet and we'll go slow. If you mess up, I've got you. Just look at me, and if you want it to be romantic, it will be romantic."

And so you look up into his eyes as instructed, and let him carry the dance, swaying and stepping, and somehow, soon enough, you fall into his rhythm, getting the hang of it, and your dance together is at peace.

It feels as though all the other bodies around you have disappeared as you look into his eyes and move with him.

"I think I love that."

"Love what?" asks your prince, his thumb moving slightly on your waist.

"Love that nickname."

"Sorry?"

"Sweetheart."

He smiles. "Well, that's what you are."

"It's just pure sweet."

"M-hm. Exactly. Like you," he winks. "Want to know what it is in my language?"

You smile, as this is the first mention between you of his native language, which you're sure must sound beautiful, considering the soothing qualities of his accented voice. Especially when he speaks softly. You love when he speaks softly. "Of course I do."

"Ma chérie," he replies in a whisper, leaning in even closer to you.

"I think I like that a lot too," you say.

He nods. "Either way, both of those things are what you are."

Now that you're comfortable with this dancing, and the music has picked up with the new song, Charles says, "I'm going do something different. Trust me, though. I've got you."

You nod. "Alright..."

He nods, and suddenly spins you away from him, only holding you by your hand, before spinning you back to him. You're laughing, and you gently rest your forehead into his chest as you say, "That was fun."

"What a lovely laugh you have," he compliments.

"You're quite romantic, you know."

"Do you mind it?"

"No."

"Good," he grins, "because I don't intend to stop."

You grin back. "You better not stop."

Then he suddenly twirls you, and you end up again where you were, laughing. "I don't mind dancing."

"Me neither. And your skirts looks beautiful just now, spinning around you."

"It felt beautiful."

"Good. You should feel beautiful, because you are."

The two of you continue dancing, along with the music, and soon he's not guiding you anymore, because you've started to understand. "You're magical," you comment.

And he says, "This is the last song. And I'm going to amaze you, ma chérie."

You feel your heart rate quicken, and you nod. "You better, because now my hopes are up."

And at the height of the song, he twirls you once more, before taking your waist, lifting you up, and, all in rhythm with the beautiful song, puts you down, letting go of you, holding you only by your hand. And then he leans down, taking your waist in his other hand, still holding your hand in his hand, and his lips meet yours.

His lips.

Press against yours.

Not just in a little peck.

In a real, loving kiss.

They're soft and beautiful, and you feel happy, excited feelings well up within you, causing you to accidentally laugh into the kiss. You feel him smile, and he just kisses you longer and more. In that moment, neither of you care what other people will think. You don't care that you're in the middle of the dance floor. You don't care that some people stare in disgust, and others clap.

Because all you care about is each other.

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