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marry me? x 2 — cl16 + asm

charles leclerc x !engineer sainz reader x alexandra saint mleux (smau + written)

you never thought the sound of an engine could feel like love until it was charles behind the wheel. four years of races, of headset crackle and late night strategy talks, of stolen glances between data screens and pit walls—and somewhere along the way, it stopped being just work. it became the two of you. then, somehow, it became the three of you.

alexandra had slipped into your lives like sunlight through a window—soft, certain, warm. and now, in 2025, with the world watching ferrari rise again and charles holding the title he’s chased his whole life, you realize what’s really worth celebrating isn’t the championship.

it’s that you built it together—engineer, driver, muse. and he’s about to make sure the world knows he never plans to do it without either of you.

fc : daniella avanzini + random pinterest gals a/n : spent all night last night and today to write this for my little angel @dontreallylikemyname:) ++ so happy for alexandra and charles! (as always i will still continue to write for them both together or separate) (tea party series returns tomorrow)

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3 months prior...(charles leading wdc by a decent margin)

yn_sainz

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad and 2,305,000 others.

yn_sainz : life in rosso corsa ❤️‍🔥🏎️

tagged : alexandrasaintmleux and charles_leclerc

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view 89,000 other comments.

username05 : her and alex are sooooo 😍 and charles is just...there.

username090 : if charles wins this championship, he better propose. or i WILL.

alexandrasaintmleux : i fell in love w a woman who looks like this… how is that fair 🥀

liked by charles_leclerc and yn_sainz

↳ charles_leclerc : understandable. same.

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and yn_sainz

↳ yn_sainz : you’re both dramatic and i love it

liked by charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

carlossainz55 : you make me want to return to ferrari sometimes...and then i realize i do not want to see the three of you making out

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and yn_sainz

↳ charles_leclerc : mi cuñado!!!!!! (my brother in law)

liked by carlossainz55

↳ yn_sainz : charlie...i told you. no more spanish speaking until you are FLUENT

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and carlossainz55

↳ alexandrasaintmleux : two spanish speaking girlfriends and he still doesn't have clue what he is saying

liked by yn_sainz and carlossainz55

↳ charles_leclerc : ...yes i do

↳ yn_sainz : mi amor i see you on google translate constantly

liked by charles_leclerc and alexandrasaintmleux

charles_leclerc : ...guilty 😅

username007 : charles and alex are literally obsessed with her and honestly, same

scuderiaferrari : our championship leader is in great hands ❤️💛 (we owe you our lives yn and alex)

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and yn_sainz

charles_leclerc: my lucky charms ❤️‍🔥

liked by yn_sainz and alexandrasaintmleux

↳ username010 : charles you need to MARRY them. NOW.

liked by charles_leclerc

iamrebeccad : the two of you in those gowns?? almost forgot to breathe

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and yn_sainz

↳ yn_sainz : we love you SOOOOOO much

liked by iamrebeccad and alexandrasaintmleux

username005 : i sense a championship and two shiny engagement rings sooooooon

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You wake up to sunlight spilling across crisp white sheets and the quiet hum of the sea outside your hotel room. The first thing you notice is warmth — Charles’ arm draped across your waist, his body pressed lazily against your back, his soft, even breaths tickling the curve of your shoulder. On the other side of you, Alexandra is already awake, her phone in hand, eyes catching yours with a gentle smile.

“Morning, engineer,” she teases, voice low and still heavy with sleep.

You smile, stretching slightly. “Morning, my muse.”

Charles stirs, eyes blinking open. His hair is a mess, and there’s a faint red mark from where his face was pressed against the pillow. “You two are conspiring again, aren’t you?” he mumbles, voice thick and rough in a way that makes Alexandra giggle.

“Always,” you reply. “You’re the main project, remember?”

He hums softly, eyes closing again as he pulls both of you closer, pressing a sleepy kiss against Alexandra’s shoulder before brushing his lips over the back of your neck. “Best team in the world,” he whispers, and for a moment, it’s quiet — just heartbeats and sunlight and the feeling of being exactly where you belong.

Eventually, you all drag yourselves out of bed. You and Alexandra move around each other in easy harmony, a silent rhythm perfected over time. She’s curling her hair while you fix your lipstick; you zip up her red silk dress while she adjusts the collar of your crisp white shirt and ties the red ribbon you wear in your hair on race days. Charles sits on the edge of the bed, already dressed in Ferrari gear, watching the two of you with quiet admiration and the softest smile.

“Do you two ever stop being perfect?” he asks.

“Mmm not really,” you shoot back playfully, and Alexandra laughs as she leans down to kiss the top of his head.

Breakfast is slow and sweet — fresh fruit, espresso, croissants, and laughter. Alexandra feeds Leo bits of croissant while Charles scrolls through messages from Fred and the team. You sit across from them, sipping your coffee, watching the two people you love most — one focused, one dreamy — and feel a wave of peace wash over you.

The drive to the track feels like muscle memory now. Leo sits in Alexandra’s lap, sticking his head out the window while Charles hums softly to whatever French song is playing through the speakers. Your hand rests on his knee, Alexandra’s hand rests over yours. The world outside blurs in red and gold.

At the paddock gates, the flash of cameras is instant. Alexandra adjusts her sunglasses; you secure Leo’s little Ferrari bandana. The three of you step out together, and the energy shifts — the paddock recognizes its power trio. Charles stops every few feet to sign hats and take photos, smiling and joking with fans. You and Alexandra carry on ahead, chatting softly, laughing at how Leo seems to pose every time a camera flashes.

Once you reach the garage, it’s back to business. You slip on your headset and dive straight into the data screens while Charles gets suited up. He finds you right before the pre-race briefing, helmet in hand, giving you that small, familiar look — the one that always means I trust you.

“You ready, amour?” he asks.

“Always,” you reply, tightening his earpiece like you always do. “Just drive. I’ll handle the rest.”

From the side, Alexandra watches — half in awe, half in love — as you move through your element. You’re calm, confident, commanding. The way you and Charles communicate borders on telepathic.

Then comes the race. The roar of engines, the blur of red, the heartbeat echo of strategy calls. “Box this lap. We’re going for the undercut.” “Copy.” “Good. Stay focused. You’ve got this.”

Alexandra leans closer to the monitors, whispering under her breath, as if he can somehow hear her through sheer willpower. “Come on, Charles. You’re brilliant, bébé. Bring it home.”

And he does. Lap after lap, precise and relentless. When he crosses the line P1, the garage explodes. You rip off your headset, laughing and crying all at once as confetti rains down. Alexandra throws her arms around you, eyes shining. You cling to each other, both shaking with joy and relief.

From the podium, Charles looks down and finds you both immediately — two red blurs in the sea of celebration. He points, then presses his fingers to his lips and sends a kiss in your direction. You and Alexandra wave, tears streaming, hearts full.

Later, back at the hotel, the world is quieter again. Leo curls up at the foot of the bed, fast asleep. You’re half-lying on Charles’ chest while Alexandra traces soft shapes on your back. The glow of the city lights filters in through the window.

Charles whispers, “Days like this… they don’t feel real.”

“They are,” Alexandra says softly, brushing her thumb over his jaw. “Because we made them real.”

You lift your head, smiling sleepily. “Now get some rest, world champion-in-the-making.”

He laughs quietly, pulling both of you closer. “As long as I’ve got you two beside me,” he murmurs, “I’ve already won.”

And you fall asleep like that — tangled up in warmth, red still lingering at the edges of your dreams.

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flashback! (in your dreams tehehe)

Ferrari had just announced that you’d be joining as Charles’ new race engineer. Everyone in the paddock was buzzing — Sainz’s sister, brilliant and bold, stepping into the scarlet chaos of Maranello.

You remember the way the factory smelled — metal, oil, and ambition. You’d barely dropped your bag before someone led you through the corridors to the simulator room. That’s where you first saw him. Charles Leclerc.

He turned around when you entered, hair a little too messy, team kit slightly askew, eyes wide with curiosity. You were supposed to shake his hand and introduce yourself professionally, but his gaze held you there — open, boyish, and inexplicably sure.

“You must be YN Sainz,” he said, offering a grin that was equal parts charm and nerves. “I’ve heard you’re terrifying.”

You laughed, straightening your posture. “Only when the car is bad.”

Something flickered across his face — admiration, amusement, something more dangerous. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes following your every move. When Carlos appeared a moment later, throwing an arm around your shoulder and saying, “Charles, meet my sister — the brains of the operation,” Charles only smiled.

“Good,” he said simply. “Then I am in good hands.”

You didn’t realize it then, but he meant more than racing.

It was six months later, after countless races, countless nights in the garage, and countless moments where your eyes found his through the chaos. You’d been avoiding it — the chemistry, the stolen glances, the way your voice softened only when you said his name.

He asked you out after a late debrief. Everyone had already left, the factory lights dimming. You were bent over a monitor, finishing notes, when he leaned in beside you.

“YN,” he said quietly, his accent wrapping around your name in that soft, deliberate way that always got to you.

“Hmm?”

“I know it’s… maybe not ideal timing,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “but if I don’t ask you now, I might regret it forever.”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “Ask me what?”

He smiled — small, nervous, honest. “To dinner. Somewhere that isn’t the garage. No race talk. Just us.”

You remember staring at him, torn between reason and instinct. He was your driver, your brother’s teammate, your constant. But the sincerity in his eyes made something inside you surrender.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Dinner. No data talk.”

That night, under the soft glow of Italian streetlights, he kissed you for the first time. It was hesitant at first — then certain. Like he’d been waiting his whole life for you to say yes.

You’d been together for nearly three years by then. Strong, solid, unbreakable. You’d learned to balance work and love, logic and heart. But love has a way of surprising you.

Charles first mentioned her after a Monaco event. “I met someone interesting today,” he said one evening as you both sat on the balcony, wine glasses half full.

“Interesting how?” you teased, tilting your head.

He hesitated. “Not like that. She’s… warm. Kind. She reminds me of you, actually. But softer. She sees people.”

You’d met Alexandra a few weeks later. You didn’t expect to like her. You expected to tolerate her — the way you did with most people orbiting your world. But from the first moment she smiled, something clicked. She was disarming. Elegant but sincere. And she looked at you the same way Charles did the first time — like she was already learning you.

The first time she stayed over, it wasn’t planned. You’d all been having dinner, laughter spilling into midnight, and somehow the three of you had ended up on the couch. Her hand brushed yours once, twice, and when Charles noticed, his gaze softened.

Later that night, after she’d gone, you turned to him in bed.

“Do you love her?” you asked quietly.

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said honestly. “But I could. And I’d never want to if you didn’t.”

You’d stared at him for a long time, heart steady. “Then let’s not be afraid of something beautiful,” you whispered.

It happened during the Italian Grand Prix weekend later that year. The three of you had become inseparable — dinners, quiet mornings, trips where your fingers brushed and none of you pulled away.

After qualifying, Charles and Alexandra were waiting for you outside the paddock. You remember the tension, the way your pulse quickened. Alexandra looked at you with that curious expression she always had — part awe, part hesitation.

“Can I ask something?” she said softly. “What are we… doing?”

You looked at Charles, and he smiled gently. “Something that feels right,” he said.

You took Alexandra’s hands then, heart in your throat. “We don’t want to make this complicated. We just… both love you. In different ways. In the same way. And we’d like you to stay.”

She blinked back tears, her lips parting in disbelief. “You’re both serious?”

Charles nodded. “Always.”

That night, all three of you stayed tangled together in your hotel room — no words, just slow, careful touches and the sound of shared breathing.

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a week later...

f1gossipgirls

567,000 likes.

f1gossipgirls : charles leclerc, yn sainz and alexandra saint mleux have all been spotted outside a luxury jeweler in st tropez tonight...i think we all know what is happening soon👀💍

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username007 : OHHHHHHHHH I KNEW IT.

username102 : this man is rlly going to win the championship, marry his girls and disappear.

username105 : oh my god charles and carlos r officially going to be brothers. i cannot take it

username005 : imagine how beautiful their kids will be 😭

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The week in St. Tropez feels like a pause between worlds — a soft exhale after months of travel, pressure, and podiums. The sea outside your villa glitters in late-afternoon light, and the air smells of salt and citrus. Charles insisted on a few quiet days before the next race.

You spend mornings on the terrace with coffee and Leo sprawled across your lap, afternoons swimming in the pale turquoise water, and evenings tangled up on the sand as the sky melts into pink and gold. Alexandra keeps taking pictures of you and Charles when you’re not looking — small moments: his hand in your hair, your laugh against his chest, the way he looks at you like he still can’t believe you’re his.

By the time Saturday comes around, the three of you have fallen into the easy rhythm of your relationship again — love without hurry, comfort without words. Charles calls it date night.

You dress together in the soft light of sunset. Alexandra slips into a silky pale yellow dress that moves like liquid when she walks; you choose something red, short and simple, with a back that makes her whistle as she zips it up for you. Charles watches from the doorway in linen and a faint grin.

“Mon dieu,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You two are dangerous.”

“Only to you,” Alexandra teases, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she passes.

Dinner is at a small restaurant tucked into one of the old streets near the port — the kind of place Charles loves: candlelit tables, a live band playing quietly, the scent of lemon and olive oil drifting through the air. You sit on the patio under string lights, Leo curled up in a tiny bed at your feet.

The night is slow and golden. There’s laughter, stories, shared bites of dessert, and more kisses than the waiter knows what to do with. Alexandra leans against you as you both watch Charles animatedly tell a story, hands flying as always. He looks so alive, so utterly content, that your heart aches.

After dinner, you expect to drive back to the villa — but Charles takes a turn toward the center of town instead. You glance at him, curious.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

He only smiles, eyes on the road. “Somewhere you’ll like.”

It’s late, but the streets are still alive with light. He parks outside a tall building with gleaming windows. A luxury jeweler — closed to the public this late, but clearly open just for him.

You and Alexandra exchange a look. “Charles…”

He cuts the engine and looks at you both, that soft, secret smile still on his face. “Come on.”

Inside, the air is cool and perfumed. There are candles lit on glass tables, champagne waiting in fluted glasses, and a jeweler in a sleek black suit who greets Charles by name. Leo trots happily beside you, little nails clicking on the marble floor, as the three of you are guided into a private room.

“Mr. Leclerc,” the jeweler says politely, “we’ve prepared a few selections based on your preferences.”

Charles nods once, then turns to you and Alexandra with a look that makes your stomach flutter. He still hasn’t said why you’re here.

You and Alexandra stand side by side as velvet trays are opened, each revealing diamonds that seem to catch every light in the room. Some are round and classic, some elongated and modern. Bands in gold, platinum, rose. Settings that sparkle like stars.

You blink at them, then at him. “Charles… what are we doing?”

He just grins — that same infuriating, heart-melting grin. “Having champagne.”

Alexandra laughs, a soft nervous sound. “And… trying on diamonds?”

He lifts his glass. “If you want to.”

You and Alexandra look at each other again — that unspoken understanding between you — and then slowly, you let the jeweler slip a ring onto your hand. The diamond catches the light, throwing tiny rainbows across the room. Alexandra gasps when she tries one herself, something vintage and delicate that fits her perfectly.

Charles leans back in his chair, watching you both with quiet joy, chin resting on his hand. His expression is a mixture of pride, wonder, and a secret he’s not quite ready to tell.

“Why are you smiling like that?” you ask finally, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugs, pretending innocence. “Can’t I enjoy seeing my girls happy?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart flutters all the same. Alexandra crosses to him, slipping into his lap, holding up her hand so the ring catches the light. “Charles, are you—”

He shakes his head gently, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “Not tonight. Tonight is just… because.”

“Because what?” you whisper, stepping closer.

His gaze softens. “Because I wanted to see what forever might look like.”

You feel Alexandra’s hand find yours, the weight of the ring still unfamiliar but somehow right.

You spend another hour there — laughing, trying on pieces, sipping champagne. Leo eventually curls up beside Charles’ feet as you and Alexandra admire each other in the mirror, sparkling and flushed. The jeweler discreetly packages two small boxes before you leave, and Charles insists on carrying them himself.

Outside, the St. Tropez night is warm and full of music. The streetlamps cast gold halos across the pavement as the three of you walk back to the car. Charles slips an arm around both your shoulders, drawing you close.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly, almost to himself.

“For what?” Alexandra asks, her voice gentle.

“For letting me love you like this,” he says.

Neither of you answers — you just lean into him as the city glows behind you, the faint clink of champagne glasses and diamonds still echoing in your minds.

You don’t know yet what he’s planning. But as you look at the man beside you and the woman holding your hand, the only thing you feel is certainty — that whatever he’s dreaming of, you’re already living it.

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quick flashback!

It had been a quiet evening in Monaco — the kind of golden-hour calm that settled over the harbor just before dinner. Charles had invited the Sainz men over under the guise of sharing a bottle of Rioja that Carlos Jr. had brought back from Madrid. You and Alexandra left for coffee, blissfully unaware.

Charles had been nervous — visibly, uncharacteristically so — pacing the balcony until Carlos Sr. finally laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“My boy,” he said, eyes twinkling, “you’re walking grooves into my floor. Say what you want to say.”

Charles exhaled, bracing his hands on the railing. “I wanted to ask for your blessing,” he said. “Both of you. I want to marry her.”

For a moment, the elder Sainz just watched him — that measured, assessing silence that could unnerve even world champions. Carlos Jr. was the first to break, grinning as he leaned forward.

“You’ve had my blessing since day one,” he said. “But you’d better not make me regret it.”

That made Charles laugh — a shaky, genuine sound.

Carlos Sr. finally stood, clapping a firm hand to his shoulder. “She is the one of the best things to ever happen to me,” he said with a teasing smile, “and to Ferrari. So take care of her, Charles.”

“I will,” Charles promised softly, a hand pressed over his heart. “Always.”

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present day (abu dhabi 2025)

The sun was still low over Yas Marina, washing the circuit in pale gold when you woke up that morning — the day it all came down to. Months of strategy, endless briefings, late-night data sessions, and long, sleepless flights across continents had led to this: the final race, Charles versus Max. Winner takes the World Drivers’ Championship.

You’d barely slept, heart pounding with nerves and hope. Alexandra had woken up before you, her voice soft and calm as she brushed your hair out of your face, whispering, “He’s going to do it, mon amour. He’s going to finish what you both started.”

Now, hours later, the three of you were tucked away in Charles’ driver room, the hum of the paddock just beyond the closed door. You sat cross-legged on the small sofa, reviewing telemetry on your tablet while Alexandra perched behind you, braiding your hair with idle care. Charles sat across from you both, already in his fireproofs, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.

“You two are calmer than me,” he murmured, voice soft but charged.

“That’s because we trust you,” you said, glancing up. “We’ve seen how much work you’ve put in. You’re ready, Charles. Just… drive like you always do.”

Alexandra smiled, standing and crossing the room to him. “And remember,” she whispered, leaning in close, “you have two lucky charms right here.” She pressed a kiss to his temple, and you followed, setting your tablet aside and moving toward him. The three of you wrapped around each other — a tangle of red and white and warmth — the kind of silent, grounding embrace that said more than words ever could.

When the knock on the door came — a team member letting you know it was time — Charles pulled back, eyes already glassy. “No matter what happens,” he said, voice rough, “you two are my everything.”

You cupped his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “And you’re ours. Now go make history.”

The track was a blur of noise and color when you took your place on the pit wall. The world narrowed to radio chatter, numbers, and Charles’ voice — steady but sharp with focus. Alexandra stood just behind you, headset on, hand resting lightly on your shoulder as if she could transmit her calm into you.

The start was clean. Charles tucked in behind Max through the first few corners, then pulled the move everyone had been waiting for — patient, precise, a slingshot through Turn 9 that had the entire pit wall erupting. You didn’t even realize you were shouting into the mic until Fred tapped your arm, laughing.

“Beautiful work, Charles! That’s P1, that’s P1 — let’s keep it clean to the end.”

You could hear him smiling when he replied, breathless: “Copy, amour. Let’s finish this.”

Every lap felt like a lifetime. Every sector time made your heart clench. Alexandra’s hand found yours around Lap 48 — fingers intertwined, knuckles white. You couldn’t speak. You could only watch the monitors, listen to the roar of the crowd, and count down the laps.

When Charles crossed the line, the world exploded. “YES! YES! YES!” he screamed into the radio, voice breaking. You were crying before you even realized it, laughing through tears as Alexandra threw her arms around you, both of you shaking with disbelief and joy.

“He did it,” she kept saying. “He really did it.”

By the time Charles pulled up in parc fermé, you were both running — Alexandra’s heels in her hand, your headset clattering against your chest. He jumped out of the car, tore off his helmet, and spotted you immediately. He didn’t hesitate.

He sprinted straight toward you and Alexandra, ignoring the cameras, the crowd, everything. You met halfway, and suddenly you were in his arms — sweat and tears and laughter all blending together. Alexandra pressed in too, her hand cupping his cheek, her forehead resting against yours.

“I told you,” you whispered, voice trembling, “you’d make history.”

Charles just shook his head, eyes shimmering as he kissed you, then her, then the space between your joined hands. “We did this,” he said. “All of us.”

And under the Abu Dhabi sun, as confetti burst and engines roared, the three of you stood together — a perfect picture in red and gold, a promise fulfilled. The champion, the engineer, and the artist — hearts bound by something stronger than any title.

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two weeks later...(paris, france)

The morning sun spilled over the Parisian rooftops like liquid gold as you and Alexandra stepped out of the penthouse, the city stretching endlessly before you. Charles had kissed both of you goodbye just minutes earlier, promising he had some “work to take care of,” though the look in his eyes made you suspicious. You exchanged knowing smiles and shrugged it off. Today was for you and Alexandra — a day without engines, deadlines, or strategy.

The streets were alive, bustling but intimate in the early morning light. You and Alexandra wandered through little boutiques, passing stands with fresh flowers and windows brimming with silk scarves and vintage books. Alexandra laughed as you tried on a crimson beret she insisted you “needed,” tipping it jauntily on your head. You had to admit she was right — the color made your eyes pop, made your whole figure feel like Paris itself had been tailored for you.

You stopped for coffee at a café tucked along a side street, the smell of fresh pastries thick in the air. Alexandra reached over to brush a stray curl from your face, her fingers lingering a second longer than usual.

“You’re glowing today,” she murmured, her voice soft but intent, and you laughed, shaking your head. “Blame the city, not me.”

She just smiled, tugging your hand lightly as the two of you made your way to a small gallery where her exhibition was being prepared. Seeing her in her element — confidently arranging the pieces, chatting with assistants, her eyes alight with passion — made your chest tighten with love. You found yourself lingering nearby, watching her, proud and utterly captivated.

After a few hours, you left the gallery and wandered the city streets again, window-shopping, laughing at silly little tourist traps, stopping for gelato by the Seine. The world felt paused, perfect, as if it had been waiting just for you two. By the time you made your way back to the penthouse, the sky was tinged with pink and violet, the city lights beginning to blink awake.

Leo, usually just content to nap, was at the door before you even stepped inside. But this time, he wasn’t alone in excitement — he was wearing the tiniest little suit you’d ever seen, complete with a bowtie, and a tag dangling from his collar that read, in delicate script: “Mom + Mama, Dad wants to marry you!”

You and Alexandra froze for a heartbeat, eyes wide, hearts pounding. “No way,” Alexandra whispered, a giggle breaking through her shock. You shrieked and practically dove for Leo, burying your face in his fur while laughing uncontrollably.

“Follow me!” a familiar, teasing voice called from down the hallway. And then you noticed them — petals. A delicate trail of rose petals, lit by the soft glow of candles lining the walls, leading straight to the living room.

Your hands were trembling as you followed Alexandra down the path, your heart hammering in your chest. And there he was. Charles. Standing amidst a sea of roses, candles flickering around him, the soft light reflecting in his eyes. His fireproof red had been swapped for something more understated — a tailored suit that somehow still made your stomach flip.

“Charles…” Alexandra breathed, words caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

He held up a hand, gently taking yours first. “I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment,” he said softly, voice shaking just enough to let you know how much this meant. “But I realized… the perfect moment doesn’t exist unless I’m with both of you.”

He knelt down first before you, Leo hopping up to nuzzle your leg as Charles took your hand. “YN,” he said, eyes bright and unwavering, “I love you. Every part of you, every laugh, every late-night strategy call, every quiet moment. Every single thing about you. We've been through everything together and I can't imagine ever being without you. Will you marry me?”

Tears pooled in your eyes, your hands trembling as you nodded furiously. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

He stood, heart full, and turned to Alexandra, taking her hands in his. “Alexandra, you’re the light of my life. You make every day brighter, every triumph sweeter, and every challenge easier. Will you marry me too?”

Alexandra’s laughter bubbled out before she could even speak, a mix of tears and joy. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She threw her arms around him, and he pulled you both into a tight, perfect embrace.

The three of you stood there, hearts beating together in that golden glow, surrounded by candles and roses and the soft fur of Leo, who seemed just as proud as the humans around him. Charles kissed your foreheads, your cheeks, pressing a hand to each of your hearts as if trying to make sure this was real.

“You two,” he whispered, voice breaking with emotion, “are my everything. Always. And now… officially, forever.”

You sank into the embrace, feeling the weight of every past race, every triumph, every quiet moment you’d shared, settle into perfect completion. Alexandra pressed her cheek to yours, and Charles’ arms tightened around both of you. Leo barked happily, jumping into the circle, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

The three of you — hearts intertwined, laughter mingling with tears — stood in the soft candlelight, bound by love, trust, and every shared moment that had led here. And for the first time, the future felt as infinite and dazzling as Paris itself.

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charles_leclerc

liked by yn_sainz, alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebeccad, carlossainz55 and 10,000,000 others.

charles_leclerc : Mr. & Mrs. ² Leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️💍

tagged : yn_sainz and alexandrasaintmleux

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🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍

f1gossipgirls

1,470,900 likes.

f1gossipgirls : charles leclerc is officially engaged to two of the most beautiful women in the world AND won a wdc with ferrari...what spell did he say????

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view 89,000 other comments.

username07 : i knew it was coming and yet i am still jealous of that man.

username090 : meh...my names charles and i have two hot fiances and im a millionaire and i won a world championship...MEHHHH

username55 : sainz-leclerc and saint mleux- leclerc both sound INSANE. i fucking love it

username075 : i need the name of his etsy witch

username010 : i am dying to know arthur and carlos' reaction

username005 : i am forever sorry for making fun of charles for doing all them ads. those rings do not look cheap

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The penthouse in Paris was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of Leo padding across the marble floor. Candles from earlier still flickered in the corners, their wax pooling gently. You, Alexandra, and Charles were lounging on the velvet sofa, knees tangled, hands clasped together, each of you glowing with that surreal post-proposal happiness that only comes once in a lifetime.

“Should we… tell everyone?” Alexandra asked softly, leaning her head against your shoulder.

You nodded, grinning, and glanced at Charles, whose own smile was wide enough to hurt your cheeks. “I think it’s time,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, but your heart was racing with excitement.

Leo, sensing the energy, jumped onto the sofa and nudged your arm with his little snout, almost as if urging you to hurry.

Charles grabbed his phone and started the first call. “Carlos?” he asked, holding it up so the screen was between all three of you.

Carlos answered almost immediately, looking tired but curious. Rebecca was perched next to him, coffee in hand. The moment he saw the three of you together, all smiles and soft candlelight in the background, his eyebrows lifted.

“Uh… what’s going on?” he asked, voice uncertain, but a grin was already forming.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you and Alexandra lifted your hands — the left hands with the sparkling rings glinting in the soft light of the penthouse. Charles held yours, and Alexandra’s hand hovered just above his shoulder.

Carlos’ jaw dropped. “Wait… are those—”

“Yes,” Alexandra said softly, eyes shining, “they’re ours.”

Rebecca squealed and clutched Carlos’ arm. “Oh my God! You’re engaged? All three of you?!”

“Yes,” you said, laughing, Leo hopping up and wagging his little tail. “It’s official. We’re engaged.”

Carlos held up his hands, pretending to examine his palms like he needed to make sure this was real. “I can’t… I don’t even—this is insane!”

Charles grinned wide, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re going to be my brother-in-law,” he said, voice full of excitement.

Carlos blinked. Then blinked again. “Wait… what? I’m… your brother-in-law?”

“Yes!” Alexandra chimed in, laughing, tugging your hand. “And we think that makes Leo officially your nephew too.”

Leo barked in agreement, spinning around the room, tail wagging like crazy.

Carlos threw his head back and laughed, a mix of disbelief and absolute joy. “Oh my god. I’m going to be a brother-in-law to you? And you? BOTH of you?”

“Yes!” Charles said, practically bouncing in his seat. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”

Rebecca was doubled over beside him, laughing so hard she could barely speak. “Carlos, look at your face! You’re so excited!!”

You leaned closer to the camera, unable to stop your smile. “We just wanted you to see first.”

Carlos smiled. “This is… this is insane. I love it. I love all of you so much.”

The three of you laughed together, Leo barking at the phone as if celebrating too. You stayed on the call for several minutes longer, showing the rings from every angle, letting Carlos and Rebecca admire the details, and hearing their excited squeals and endless congratulations.

Once you hung up, the three of you exchanged gleeful glances, cheeks still flushed. “Should we call Charles’ family next?” you asked, heart fluttering again.

“Yes,” Charles said, already scrolling through contacts. “I think they deserve to see this before anyone else.”

The screen lit up immediately, and Arthur’s face appeared, messy hair, a grin already plastered across his face.

“Charles! What—wait, why do you look like that?” Arthur asked, squinting at the camera.

Before anyone could answer, you and Alexandra leaned in, holding up your hands so the rings sparkled in the camera’s glow. Leo jumped into Charles’ lap, tail wagging frantically as if he understood the importance of this moment.

Arthur’s jaw dropped. “No… are those… what I think they are?”

“Yes,” Charles said simply, voice full of pride and warmth. “We’re engaged.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, and then he threw his head back, laughing uncontrollably. “You didn’t just—wait, all three of you?! Oh my God, this is insane!”

Alexandra and you laughed, leaning on each other as Charles shook his head, grinning. “Happy to have you officially as a brother.”

Arthur nearly fell off his chair, bouncing up and down. “I am thrilled! I’m officially the coolest brother-in-law now!”

You chuckled to yourself, "I think Carlos might fight you for that title, Thur."

Just then, Lorenzo appeared behind him on the screen, Charlotte holding a glass of champagne. Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a composed expression. “I see chaos has arrived,” he said dryly.

Charlotte leaned into the camera, eyes sparkling. “Oh my god! Look at the rings! We've just added two more to the family!”

“Yes,” Charles said, shrugging, mock-innocent. “We come as a package.”

Pascale’s voice then rang out from somewhere behind Lorenzo and Charlotte, filled with warmth and a little exasperation. “Ohhhh, my babies! My babies are engaged! All of you! I can’t believe it! This is the happiest news I’ve heard in ages!”

You and Alexandra exchanged a glance, hearts full, and Charles squeezed both your hands. “We wanted you all to see first,” he said softly.

Arthur leaned closer to the camera, practically vibrating with excitement. “I don’t even know what to do! I should be throwing confetti, but I’m too busy squealing. Can we celebrate now?!”

Charlotte laughed, waving her champagne glass. “Yes! Drinks, hugs, chaos — I am so ready!”

Lorenzo, though attempting composure, couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “I… I can’t believe this. All of you together. It’s… perfect.”

Pascale, ever the mom, sniffled happily, brushing a hand across her cheek. “I love all of you. I just… I can’t even. You are my children and my children-in-love! This is… this is the best day!”

Leo barked excitedly into the screen, hopping from Charles’ lap to yours. Arthur squealed. “Oh, Leo gets it! He knows! He’s already celebrating!”

You leaned back into Charles and Alexandra, hearts soaring. The three of you were laughing, crying softly, and cheering together with your families over the phone, and for a moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

Leo jumped onto Charles’ lap, circling his arms and whining happily. You pressed a kiss to Alexandra’s temple. “I think they’re happy,” you whispered.

Alexandra grinned. “Just a little,” she said, eyes sparkling. “And honestly… I can’t stop smiling.”

Charles wrapped his arms around both of you, pulling you in for a long, slow hug. “Neither can I,” he said, voice low, almost incoherent. “This… all of this… it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And for the first time that day, surrounded by the warmth of love, family, and little Leo bouncing at your feet, you all just let it sink in — the reality of being engaged, together, forever.

🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍🕊♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧💍

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