We are all very pissed of cuz of how they treated Nyck rn. And mostly how the PR team absolutely did NOT handle this situation.
BUT
Just wait, my dear friends, for the next DTS season. Cuz based on what they did when Mclaren kicked Danny out, this will be even worse. So when DTS 6 (I believe its the 6th season) comes out, then we'll get the proper shame on Hemlut and RB and AT.
love it when men call other men 'big guy' or 'bossman' like yes PLEASE let everyone in earshot know that you are thinking of your size in relation to another mans and how that man is the boss of you. remind him of these things through cute little nicknames! go suck him off about it why dont you
What are y'all's thought on a lestappen fanfic where, straight-outta-cheesey-romace-film things keep happening with them?
Like, during the Canadian GP, Charles was hurriedly making his way back to his motorhome cause it was raining and all but he didn't notice how slippery the road was and slipped. Bracing for impact, Charles closed his eyes, only to be stopped by a strong pair of arms that caught him just in time. Turns out it was Max who caught him from the back. There's obviously some awkwardness between them, Charles is as red as his shirt.
Then during the Austrian GP, it turns out that Red Bull and Ferrari crew are staying at the same hotel. On Thursday evening, Charles was making his way to meet Andrea downstairs in the lobby, he had just left the elevator and crashed into someone but this time he did fall and the person he crashed with fell on top of him. It was Max Verstappen. The two of them quickly scrambled up straight and apologised to each other. Both beet red and wondering why this was happening with them.
After the qualification for the Austrian GP was done, they're at the media pen and Charles had just finished answering some journalist's questions. His PR person was already directing him towards another media organisation, Charles had just taken a few steps back away from the railing and he ends up tripping over someone's leg. He didn't hit the ground luckily, courtesy of Max again. The blonde was actually giving an interview too when Charles had tripped over his leg. Charles was embarrassed, he quickly apologised and followed his PR officer. When the cameraman turned to Max again, the Dutchman was all pink.
And Max like the no-filter-to-the-mouth-guy he is ends up saying, "Yeah these kind of things keep happening with us lately."
That might have been the most embarrassed Charles had ever felt cause this time when Charles fell, it was in front of the cameras. He can already picture the headlines and all the videos that will be available on the internet later today or by latest tomorrow.
"Ferrari Golden Boy Charles Leclerc trips and falls but lucky for him he had a Dashing Lion save him."
>>>
Y'all please someone write this, I'm like begging. like imagine if Charles trips on max's feet at the media pen but max catches him before he hits the ground. like with him catching Charles by his waist. I think us girlies would be dead.
max crying and complaining on his radio the entire sprint, calling george a dickhead and threatening to crash into him, horner saying it was good george had his helmet on insinuating the use of physical violence and laughing over the fact that his driver has no emotional control. the entire team is vile and disgusting and no one enables max and his violent petulant behavior more than this sport bc if mercedes and lewis were to do the same the narrative would be racist and accusatory.
First of Seb said some time ago that the adrenaline and the emotions are a really strong. Just like in any other sport, it gets heated sometimes. It's not that the person in a bad human being or anything. Just the physical activity and the hormones secreted during do that to a person. So Max being aggressive has also a lot to do with that.
Secondly, it's not just Max that is aggressive. In the past there were a lot of drivers that were in some sense dicks. Just like Max, also the beloved Schumacher. Everyone knows he had some shady moves that the FIA just let slip through because it was Schumacher. It's kinda obvious that being nice and "letting people pass you" doesn't win championships. (*ehm*Charles, baby, I love you but enter your reputation era already,please)
Also, his father is a terrible parent. It affects you more that you think, when your father is a walking red flag. I know, Max is an adult now a he should be responsible for the way he acts BUT he's still relatively young. And I believe he's getting better at handling his emotions, however it's a process that indeed does take time.
I'm not trying to make excuses for him, it's just that there is so much hate on him and I don't think that's what the sport in about. Or any other sport really.
*disclaimer: I'm not a max fan, nor red bull. I'm a proud tiffosi and Charles is my baby. Trust me the last thing I want is for max to win another championship. But I find this unfair.
psa f1blr: it has come to my attention that far too many ppl on this hellsite don't know where to stream races illegally so i'll make it very simple. you can do it HERE or HERE :)
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.
Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today.
The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money.
A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects.
You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.
You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.
Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither.
You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.
Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you.
You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom.
And just at that moment, the apartment door opens.
"What the hell?"
The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.
"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.
"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.
"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature.
The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.
"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.
You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"
Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.
"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."
He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."
"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"
"This is not your apartment!"
Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.
"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops.
Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"
The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"
The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"
Friends? Bought it in his name?
"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.
"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?
"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.
"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.
Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."
On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier.
"I can explain." Fuck.
While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.
"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"
While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.
"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?
"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."
You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.
Well, it is, in theory.
"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"
"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."
Scharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.
The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-
"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer.
"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically.
Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"
You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."
"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"
Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.
When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"
His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.
"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.
"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."
There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you.
Private is private.
And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.
"All right."
Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.
Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-
"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."
"Dry wine is gross."
Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.
"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.
He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."
He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod.
"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."
Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt.
As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."
Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin.
Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person.
A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all.
Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?
You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.
Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible.
And apart from that - you don't have any other choice.
Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.
That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.
Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx
this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!
Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)
Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.
11.1k words
Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world.
He's your best friend.
Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book.
She was his best friend.
—
How it started:
A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.
“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”
And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.
He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.
But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.
Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.
It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.
Their friendship only bloomed from there…
After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.
When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.
Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.
He didn't catch you in time.
Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.
Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.
Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years.
Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.
Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.
You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2.
Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.
Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?
You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually.
“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.
Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.
You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend.
Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.
And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.
Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.
And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.
This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.
You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.
Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.
“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.
You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.
“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”
“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway.
“It's not that big of a deal-”
“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.
“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.
“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”
“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.
His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.
“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”
You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.
“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”
That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-
“She said let go mate.”
Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.
“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”
That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.
“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.
“Arthur-”
“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc.
You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face.
However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.
As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”
You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.
He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.
“Don't tell me you've lost-”
“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.
“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.
“Dont.”
“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.
After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.
“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.
He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.
You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.
On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car.
It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.
The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.
Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.
The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.
He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay.
He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,
“You're going to get a cold.”
You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.
“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.
“I'm okay.”
The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.
“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.
“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.”
“Charlie…”
He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.
Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.
“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.
“I know.” Charles whispered back.
“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.”
Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible.
“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.
Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh.
“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”
Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”
After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.
“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.
“I know, I know.”
You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.
“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.
“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.
On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…
Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.
He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.
Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around.
You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.
“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.
“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.
“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.
“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.
“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.
“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.
“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”
“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.
“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.
“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”
Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse.
You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.
Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit.
But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.
Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest.
You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.
The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked.
The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore.
Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.
You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.
You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.
“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.
“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.
“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year.
“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.
“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.
You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.
“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”
Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.
A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball.
She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.
You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.
He really didn't want you.
“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”
“You knew?”
Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.
You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.
“What about me? When will I be happy?”
You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.
That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself.
You needed to actually move on.
So that's what you did.
And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.
Lando norris.
He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.
He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.
It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.
“y/n?”
“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.
“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?”
“Yep.”
Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him.
“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.
But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.
“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.
“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.
You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him.
But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.
“y/n?”
Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.
Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.
Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours.
“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.
“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed.
“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.
“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.
“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.
Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.
Charles hated him.
Charles hated himself for his feelings.
He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words.
It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?
He broke up with Charlotte a month later.
Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.
Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.
His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.
The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.
“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.
“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight.
“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Maman.” Charles sighed.
“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.
“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.
“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.
“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.
“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”
Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.
“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”
“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.
“Do you love her?”
“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.
“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”
Charles nodded his head.
His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do.
And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper.
She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies.
She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.
“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”
And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.
Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.
Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.
But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.
No call.
Not even a text.
He had fully let you slip from his grasp.
It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.
He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.
After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.
“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.
Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.
“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.
“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.
“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.
Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.
“They broke up, a while ago actually.”
Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.
“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.
“She's not even in the country charles.”
Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”
Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.
“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.
Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.
“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother.
You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.
“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.
“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.
“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.
“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.
Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”
“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”
Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.
“Say it arthur.”
The flame was lit.
“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.
“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.
“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.
Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.
“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest.
“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.
Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening.
No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-
“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”
“Arthur-”
“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”
Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.
“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”
Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.
“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.
Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.
“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”
Charles felt awful.
Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.
It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.
He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend.
It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.
He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.
He was an awful person, he thought.
When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.
He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”
“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”
“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.
“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.
“alot .” lorezono chucked.
“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.
“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word.
“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”
“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.
“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”
You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.
You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.
You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.
Pick it up.
Pick it up.
You couldn't do it.
Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.
He had called you?
You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.
You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.
You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.
Ringing.
“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.
“Charles?”
You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.
“I'm sorry.”
He's sorry?
“Charles-”
“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”
“It's- it's okay.”
You forgave him.
“It's not.”
There was a silence that lingered for a moment.
“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.
“I want to see you.”
More silence.
“Please, y/n.”
“Okay.”
More silence.
“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.
“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto.
Soon.
“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.
“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”
“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him.
Silence.
Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.
“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.
“I'll see you soon charlie.”
This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.
“y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Am I too late?’
“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.
Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?
But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.
You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.
Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.
You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.
You had missed this.
And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.
Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.
“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.
“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.
Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.
“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”
You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.
You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless.
You felt vulnerable.
So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.
You were going to see him.
Your time was up.
You were ready.
You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.
Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.
“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.
“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.
“I think the time away did you good, no?”
“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.
“I dont think so.”
“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.
“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.
You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”
“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.
“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”
“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”
“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”
That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him
being the love of your life up yet.
You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.
When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.
You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.
The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.
You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.
You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you.
“Hey.” he smiled.
“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.
“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”
“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.
“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.”
Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”
You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.
“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”
You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.
“I'm happy for you landini.”
You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.
“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.
“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.
You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”
“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”
Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.
His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock.
As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.
Charles.
He didn't seem too happy though.
He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.
There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively.
He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.
“Charles, wait!”
And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.
“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.
You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.
“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”
“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.
“Charles?”
“yes!”
A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.
“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.
“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.
“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.
“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.
“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”
“y/n?!”
Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.
“Jorris, oh thank god!”
“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.
“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.
“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.
“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.
“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.
Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.
And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.
Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.
“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”
“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.
“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.
“That's not what I meant by sweet.”
Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.
You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.
You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.
Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.
“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”
“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.
“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.
“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.
Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.
“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.
Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.
If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.
He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.
He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.
“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.
“What?” he huffed.
“She waited.”
“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention.
Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.
You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.
“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled.
Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot.
He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.
He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate.
Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again.
“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.
“I've always been yours…”
Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹
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