#charles leclerc prompt

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (24/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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: Furniture shopping is more exciting when there's talks about buying new stuff - like a bed.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

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A/N: hello loves! part twenty-four is here and I hope you enjoy it! feedback is appreciated!!!

The fact that Kika is just lying on your bed instead of snuggling up completely in your fluffy blanket is a miracle. 

"I liked the light blue mom jeans best," she says as you stand in front of the large mirror leaning against the wall next to the door to your room and look at yourself. "With the white oversized turtleneck - smash."

You look at her through the mirror. "Haha."

"I'm serious." She leans on her elbows and tilts her head. "If you wear white sneakers with it, it'll even work with the sandwich method. I've seen it on TikTok. And I swear to you - people will turn their heads to look at you."

"I don't want people turning their heads at me," you confess quietly, adjusting the soft fabric of your top. "I just want to look halfway okay."

"Trust me. You look more than okay."

After Kika and Pierre have stormed your apartment with their spare key - which at first annoyed you, but in the next moment made you feel quite relieved - your girlfriend has taken it upon herself to unpack your suitcase and pick out an outfit for you that matches your trip to the furniture store.

Unpacking your suitcase simply consisted of pulling out one item at a time and tossing it aside if it didn't meet her expectations. The pile of clothes next to the bed is the result of her search.

" Let it go," she warns you as you adjust the position of the hem of the sweater on your shoulder. "You look good. When I think about my first outfit as Pierre's girlfriend - it was pure horror."

"But I'm not a girlfriend," you reply as you reach for the jeans Kika is holding out to you. "I'm his friend. His roommate. Nothing more," you exhale, "and nothing less."

The Portugese woman watches you slip into your pants. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Caught off guard, you look at her. Are your feelings for the Monegasque so obvious that she can even see it on your face? Is your affection written all over your forehead? You can't name your emotional state, you can't say a word that could even begin to describe what you feel for Charles - but there's no question that it's definitely something other than pure friendship. 

No matter how often and vehemently you try to convince yourself that Charles is your friend, you are an incredibly bad liar. 

"I remember being incredibly nervous the first time we went out in public. I think I changed outfits three or four times before I was halfway happy."

Oh.

You sit down on the edge of the bed with her. "I want all of this. I want him." You clear your throat as Kika gives you a meaningful look. "His friendship, that is. And I'm also willing to take the risk of people not liking me and talking badly about me." You clasp your hands in your lap.

Kika sits up straight. "But?"

You curl your lips into a thin line. "I - I don't know." How do you explain to her that you're worried that his fans could dislike you so much that they doubt Charles? You're going public as friends, something that bothers you a little more than it should. But the Monegasque has also said that people will think what they want. 

What if they hate you so much - your looks, your mediocrity, your being - that Charles catches on and he realizes they're right in their opinion?

"I just want to make a good impression."

Your friend reaches for your hand. "You will. And after all, you're just friends. The public's opinion isn't all that important." You don't see her look, which says so much more than what she actually says.

"Right."

Kika lets go of your hand and stands up from the bed. "I'll be with you the whole time. We'll work it out. I promise." She tosses her long hair over her shoulder. "So, let's get going. This room is pretty bleak and could use some color," she says before pulling you off the bed and out of the room.

As you slip into your shoes at the front door, the men join you.

"So, Pierre and I are sitting -" Charles begins, but suddenly stops when he sees you. His eyes wander over your body and goose bumps spread along their path. He remains silent until Pierre nudges him. "Uhm, sorry. Yes. We - um - we're both going to sit in the front of the car because -" He scratches the back of his neck nervously, but can't take his eyes off you. "The plan is for Kika and you to go through the furniture store together and Pierre is coming with me. Just so that we are seen together as little as possible, but are still out and about together," he explains. 

You understand why this is all going to happen. He wants to protect you and you want to let him, but you can't stop your heart from getting a little bruised. 

When Kika notices your offended look, she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "So much planning for simple shopping with friends? Is that really necessary?"

As you look up from your shoes, you look straight into Charles' beautiful green eyes. Something that looks exactly like how you feel flickers across his face. "It is." He stands up straight. "Shall we?"

Kika smiles gently at you. "Let's liven this place up a bit, then." She grabs Pierre's hand and together the two of them walk out of the apartment towards the elevator, while Charles and you stay behind. You both look after them. 

"Is everything all right?" asks the Monegasque and stands next to you. 

"Everything's fine," you answer him curtly. You don't dare look at him. 

"Y/N," he says as he gently grasps your wrist and turns you towards him. "Mon amour, you know why I'm doing this, don't you?" His hand slips a little lower so your fingers can intertwine.

"'Mh-hmm." 

"Hey." His other hand rests gently against your cheek, making you look at him. "Hey." His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. "I'm trying to protect you. That's my priority. Making sure you're okay is my priority. And if that means we can't walk through any stores next to each other for now, just so the public can get used to you, then I'll put up with it." His gaze twitches briefly to your mouth. "Even if it's not what I want."

You nuzzle your face against his warm hand. "And what do you want?" you ask softly. 

"You." 

His answer makes the blood sizzle in your veins. It feels as if the warmth of his skin is burning through your face, as if the nerve endings under your skin are sending little electric shocks through your muscles and forcing your heart to stop. You take a deep breath.

"I want you near me." He squeezes your hand twice before pulling away. Your skin feels cooler without his touch. "But I'm responsible for what happens in public. And I don't want to risk anything happening to you because of me."

You nod weakly before wordlessly following the befriended couple. You hear Charles behind you, but you don't wait for him as you walk quickly to the others. The atmosphere in the elevator is tense as you are transported towards the underground garage, but no one tries to ease the tension. Kika and Pierre look at each other a little uncertainly, something that doesn't escape your gaze, and you can't blame them. The situation is just awful.

Pierre has thought far ahead, because when he presses a button on his car key, a large SUV opens up in the underground parking garage, sure to fit some decorative items. Charles' Ferrari, or God forbid your old Renault, might have been able to fit a picture frame, or at most a small mirror. 

You sit behind Charles, who has taken a seat in the passenger seat. Kika and Pierre are talking through the rear-view mirror while you look out of the window.

The longer you think about what Charles said - or didn't say - the more uncomfortable you feel. The hem of the sweater seems to have slipped, the collar feels too tight and the sleeves are scratching your elbows. You're not sure what you were hoping for, what the right answer would have been. But you're not particularly happy with the one you got. 

You also want to be close to him, permanently. And you can also understand why the plan involves you staying away from each other inside the furniture store. But is that really necessary if you're just friends? Has he done something similar with his other female friends, or are you the only one who has to put up with this fuss? 

Your thoughts are going round and round in your head, but as if by magic they suddenly come to a standstill. But it's not magic, it's Charles' hand that has squeezed past his seat on the right and is now gripping your leg. You feel his fingers slide under the fabric of your jeans, where they rest against your calf. 

You try to regulate your breathing, but you can hear the blood pounding in your ears. Charles touching you is nothing new. You've been touching each other non-stop since last night, which doesn't help your feelings or your friendship, but it still feels indescribably good. 

It feels right the way his calloused hand wraps around your soft calf. It felt right the way his thumb stroked your cheek. It felt right to lie half-naked next to him in bed. 

It felt right to want him as something more. More than a roommate. More than a friend. 

And that's exactly why you slide your foot towards the car door, so that Charles can touch you more easily. You block out the voice that keeps whispering hypocrite to you as best you can. And the warmer his skin feels on yours, the tighter his fingers close around your calf, the better it works. 

"I'll let you both out right at the entrance and we'll park in the back of the parking lot," Pierre interrupts your thoughts before they're no longer PG. "You can go inside and we'll follow. That's the easiest way."

"Thank you very much," Charles says. "I'm sorry we're shamelessly taking advantage of you."

Pierre has to grin. "You're welcome to give me a position in Bahrain, then we'd be even."

"You'd have to get close to me on the track first."

The two men argue amicably until the car comes to a halt in front of the deserted entrance. Just as you are about to open the door, Charles's fingers gently squeeze your leg twice and you have to suppress a smile, otherwise Kika would tease you endlessly. As you both get out and the car drives away, she latches on to you. 

"Are you ready?" she asks as you walk towards the glass door together. 

"Definitely."

Kika has very good taste in decorating and if she hadn't become a model, she could definitely have worked at Ikea putting together those fake rooms. As you push a shopping cart in front of you, she skips through the aisles, grabbing anything that matches in color or style. Picture frames, vases, mirrors and fake plants that would look good on the windowsill in your room. 

She's examining which of the candles in front of her would go better with the vases in the shopping cart when your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Charles: If one of the candles burns down our apartment, I'll have to charge you rent. 

Confused, you read the message before looking up and around. Charles is standing about twenty meters away from you, smiling at you over the shelves. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You: You don't need my money, Mr. Ferrari. After all, you make millions a year. 

You raise an eyebrow challengingly as Charles reads your message. You can see his grin clearly, even from this distance. 

Charles: If you burn down my expensive apartment, I'll have to find a new one, and they're not exactly cheap in Monaco, as you know. 

You: I thought it was our apartment?

Charles: If you let it burn down, you're welcome to keep it.

You: So you'd let me keep it? Our apartment?

Charles: I'd give you anything, mon amour. You just have to ask for it. 

You don't have time to think about his answer because Kika throws a stuffed animal dinosaur in your face. 

"Are you done flirting?" she asks, playing annoyed. "I'm trying to decorate your room and you'd rather flirt than help me."

You feel the blood rush to your face. "Excuse me?"

Her grin almost reaches your ears. "Gotcha."

"You can't possibly have caught me doing something I wasn't doing," you try to wriggle out of it, but Kika has bitten down like a little terrier.

"And why are you looking like you've eaten the last spoonful of tiramisu without asking if anyone else wants the rest?" 

"I haven't eaten any tiramisu," you defend yourself and hug the green stuffed animal tightly to your chest. 

"Not yet," she says gently and puts one of the candles in the cart with the rest. "But I'm afraid you could get diabetic if you're not careful with the tiramisu. A small piece is fine, but a double portion could almost be too much." 

You narrow your eyes. "I haven't eaten any tiramisu." Without taking your eyes off her, you put the green dino in the shopping cart too. "And I don't intend to."

"You're a bad liar," she says and stands next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "But that's all right. I still love you. And when your room looks really cool soon, I'll take the outfit pictures for my Instagram in front of your mirror."

She gives you a peck on the cheek and you roll your eyes. "Charles was right. We need to change the locks, then you can't disturb us anymore."

"Disturb? Disturbing what? Eating tiramisu?" she grins and you would have loved to suffocate her with the green dino. Apparently Kika can read minds, because she quickly lets go of your arms and continues to skip happily through the corridors while you follow her with the shopping cart. 

"How much do you think the things you picked out for me cost?" you ask her as she picks out more plants.

She takes a look at the shopping cart. "Something between two hundred and five hundred euros," she replies with a shrug.

"Kika, that's too much. Way too much," you try to stop her as she walks over to the rugs on display. "I can't pay for it. I'm unemployed, remember?" You're about to turn the shopping cart around and return the selected items to their rightful places, but Kika stands in your way. 

"Charles offered to pay for this," she says, confused, resting her perfectly manicured hands on the metal grille of the cart. 

"He what?" you ask, looking around in the hope of spotting Charles somewhere. But he's nowhere to be seen.

"Pierre sent me a text message to leave the car at the checkouts when we're done. He said that Charles wanted to pay for it and that we should wait outside for them," she explains, tilting her head. "I thought he would have told you. I know you're unemployed, but because of the text message, I thought that - I assumed we could just pick out nice items without looking at the price."

You run your tongue over your teeth. "Give me a moment, please," you say briefly and leave her standing there with the shopping cart. 

You walk through every aisle, looking over every shelf in the hope of seeing Charles standing somewhere. And when, after ten minutes, you spot his brown curls in the furthest corner of the store, you don't care if the two of you are seen together. He's standing in front of a gray, hip-high box spring, with nice, dark bedding and comfortable-looking pillows placed on it. When you stop next to him, he doesn't look at you.

"I want to buy a new bed," he begins the conversation. "The one I have now is too low for me. What do you think of this one? I've tried it out. It's really comfortable and the perfect height for -" He falls silent before he can finish the sentence. 

"Kika says you want to pay for my things," you change the subject without answering his question. You don't take your eyes off the bed either. 

"That's correct."

"I don't want that," you say tersely. "I don't want you to pay for it."

"But I want to," he replies, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "Think of it as a gift."

"As a gift?" You raise an eyebrow. "As a gift for what?"

"For your friendship."

"You can have my friendship without buying me new things," you assure him, but you fall on deaf ears. 

"But I want to. I have so much money that I can't spend on my own, so I want to buy you nice things." He leans a little towards you so that your hands touch. "How expensive are the things? One thousand, two thousand euros?"

"Kika says five hundred at most."

"Then think of it as a small, early Christmas present," he says gently. Before you can object, he continues. "I want you to feel comfortable and if it costs me some money, then so be it. And it won't hurt my bank account in the slightest. So just say thank you and accept the gift."

"Thank you," you whisper reluctantly, but you know that it wouldn't do any good to go against his wishes. "Did you find something you want to buy?"

He smiles. "This bed, apparently. And bedding. And a mirror."

"Doesn't sound bad. I just hope you have as good a taste as Kika. After all, our things have to match," you joke.

Charles turns his head in your direction. "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it before I spend thousands of euros on it." As he says it and his fingers curl around your wrist, that feeling blossoms in your chest again.

You want to throw him on the bed in front of you, kiss him until you can't breathe and touch him until you can see stars. You want to feel his warm skin under your fingertips, feel his muscles tense as he pulls you on top of him and presses you against his firm body. You want to feel his weight on you as he lays you down on the bed and his lips trail down from your mouth. You want to - 

"Do you really think I'm going to try sleeping without you again when we've figured out that we both sleep better when we're together?" he asks, gently stroking the thin skin on your wrist with his thumb. You hope he can't feel your racing pulse underneath. "When we first met, you said that you hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a long time. And if it means I have to hold you in my arms so you can get a good night's sleep, then so be it. And it's not as if I don't enjoy having you close to me."

Before you can answer him, you feel a person standing at your other side and when you look, Kika is standing there. Her gaze flickers briefly to your hands before she turns to the bed as well. "Do any of you fancy a bite to eat?" she asks. "There's a restaurant nearby that serves incredibly good tiramisu. And it's never busy. We can go there if you like." She turns slightly in your direction and nudges you. "What about you? Do you want some tiramisu?"

More like a need than a want.

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

with the upcoming release of your newest album, fans are speculating if it’s the only new news you have to share

an first smau! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part two

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 4,836,364 others

yourig and that’s a wrap on the album. preorder CATALYST starting the 16th ;)

view comments

user MOTHERRR

user i’m so excited omgg

userwho is the guy??

user idk if it’s just me, but it kinda looks like @charles_leclerc

user time to go on twitter

user the kids miss you

user oh to be able to kiss y/n

user charles in the likes?!?!

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charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, landonorris, 78,379,379 others

charles_leclerc had so much filming with @/king

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user OH??

user i knew it!!

user y/n and f1… my worlds are colliding

user is he the one y/n kissed??

user omg what if they’re dating??

landonorris you look so good

charles_leclerc when do i not ;)

user YESSSS

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king

liked by yourig, bandmateig, charles_leclerc 82,465,868 others

king cheers to the release of CATALYST stream now on all platforms💜💙

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yourig soso proud of everyone! ty so much to our amazing team for making it possible

liked by king

user FINALLYYYY

user mothers are mothering

user OMG charles in the pool scene?? insane

bandmateig lets gooo

liked by king, yourig

user the whole plot of the mv was crazyy

charles_leclerc 🔥🔥

liked by yourig

user charles in the comments??

user he def got with y/n

user yall he was in only in the mv, calm down

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breakingnews

38,597 likes

breakingnews singer-songwriter y/n l/n spotted with f1 driver charles leclerc after her bands album release party

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user WHATTT

user she’s no good for charles… what is he thinking

user am i the only one who thinks they look good tg?

user nah are you crazy he’s too innocent for her

user he’s a grown man but ok💀

user I KNEW IT

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part two??

[earlgreyflowers]

Charles possessive and jealous, SMUT 🔥

The sound of your laughter streams through the Ferrari garage as Charles returns from FP1. It’d been a good session for him, finally proving his capabilities at driving the nightmare that was the SF-23. All he wanted was for you to greet him with a hug, maybe a kiss on the cheek and a soft 'well done!' But you were nowhere to be found.

Charles stalks through the garage, eyebrows furrowed, following the melody of your giggles. His eyes narrow as he sees you, crouched next to a frustrated Carlos, hand perched over his arm. The logical part of Charles' brain knows you're just being the angel that you are, comforting Carlos after his horror crash out of FP1. But the jealous part of him is screaming, zeroing in on your hand wrapped around Carlos' wrist, a hand that belongs to him. He exhales a sharp breath through his nose before joining the pair of you.

Carlos is first to look up, "Hey man, you looked fast out there. Sorry I ended up cutting the session so short." He apologises, looking down at the ground. "No worries mate, hope they get the car fixed for you." Charles replies, patting Carlos on the back. "Mon cherie, can I borrow you?" Charles asks, extending his hand to you. You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion before slotting your hand in his. He pulls you up from your crouching position before practically dragging you into his drivers' room.

"What's u-" You start to ask, unable to finish your sentence as Charles slams the door before pushing you up against it. He stares at you with thunderous eyes, "My own teammate? Really? You had to touch my own teammate?" He asks, scoffing under his breath. His deft fingers brush a strand of her behind your ear, his eyes following the movement of his hand before flicking to your lips.

"He was upset. I was just comforting him." You explain, frustrated at Charles for not seeing that. "I know you were, mon amour, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that you touched him. That your soft hands were on someone other than me." He connects his right hand with yours that had been laying limp on your side, dragging it up above your head. You move your left hand to join it and Charles slots his hand over your wrists. "Good girl." He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You should know by now that you don't get to touch anyone else Y/N, and so now you don't even get to touch me." His hand slides up your thigh, caressing the soft skin. He cups his hand over your panties, letting his middle finger apply pressure. "You're so wet already, mon cherie. And it's all for me isn't it?" He asks sweetly, "Your pussy is all mine." His middle finger applies pressure to your clit, causing your hips to stutter and a soft whine to fall from your lips.

"Shut up." He mutters, slapping your inner thigh. "You're going to stand here and take it, just like I tell you to, and then you're going to walk back out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs.” His fingers slip under your panties, stroking through the pool of wetness collecting between your legs. ‘And why are you going to do that, mi belle?” He questions.

“Because you own me.” You whine, desperately pressing your hips down onto Charles’ fingers. He slips his middle finger inside you, groaning at the feeling of your warmth. “You always feel so good, why can’t you act like it?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck. You feel him nibble, the gentle pain shooting sparks down your body. You arch your back into him, moaning a little too loudly. “That’s it baby, let everyone in this garage know who you belong to.” He mutters, curling his fingers against your walls.

His lips continue their mission, sucking a purple bruise into your neck. The sensation pushes you closer to the edge, your walls contracting around Charles’ fingers.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Yes, please Charles, please let me cum.” You moan out, whimpering as he removes his finger from you. He holds your face, digging his fingers lightly into your cheek. Bringing his glistening finger to his lips you’re forced to watch as Charles sucks your juices from his finger with a groan.

“Bend over.”

Before you can even comprehend it Charles turns you around, forcing your ass back into his hard cock. Pulling himself out of his racing suit, he slams into you, groaning at the sensation.

“My good girl aren’t you baby? All fucking mine.” He growls in your ear, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock harder. “You belong to me, and I want everyone to know it.” Charles states, slapping your ass with his free hand. You shriek in surprise, your walls clenching down on his cock.

“There we go baby that’s it, no one else makes you feel this good and no one ever will.” Charles groans, finally reaching around to rub your clit. You moan, eyes rolling back at the shockwaves rushing through your body. Sweat begins to form on Charles’ hairline as your thighs start shaking for the position you are in. “Come on baby, I know you’re close, cum for me. I want to feel it.”

That simple command is all it takes for you to fall apart, knees buckling as you’re hit with a mind numbing orgasm. Your moaning is soon drowned out by Charles’ groans as he stills inside you, pumping you full of his cum as promised. “So fucking good, oh my god.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He pulls his cock from your pussy, admiring the way his milky white cum drips from your lips, staining your thighs. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, “You are mine, and I love you.” You smile softly at the gesture, “I love you too Charles.” His dimple emerges at your words, cheeks reddened with his previous exertions.

He clicks the door open, leading you out proudly with your hand in his. Everyone watches the way the pair of you exit his drivers’ room as if nothing happened, but only Carlos notices what’s running down your thigh.

——————————

A/N

This is the first smut I’ve written for F1 and been happy to publish, I hope it’s good enough <3

[thisismeracing]

millie! can i request #5 for sharlssss?

nonny!! of course! 🥰🥰here you gooo, sorry for taking forever *mwah*

From the Quick Prompt List: 5. “You're too overprotective”

word count: 0.5k

pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x charles leclerc

warnings: fluff, mentions of skiing, mentions of losing someone you love (but its fairly quick), not proofread.

"Did you get all your clothes? Are you warm enough?" Charles asked doing a once over Yn to make sure she was wrapped around the thick clothes.

They were going skiing together, something Yn never did before. She also wasn't the biggest fan of the winter season, she wasn't against it while at home near the fireplace with hot cocoa on her hands, but walking around snow? playing around in the snow? it could be too much, so she usually let it pass. However, this time she wanted to go skiing, she wanted to do something different and of course, Charles would follow her around.

"I did, sharls," she theatrically rolls her eyes and one of their friends chuckles.

"It seems like you cannot worry about your own girlfriend anymore nowadays," the moneguásque quips before grabbing his things.

It was only an hour after they got into the ski resort when Charles asked, "Mon amour, you should drink some water, it's easy to dehydrate in this weather too, you know?"

Yn huffed but grabbed her water bottle taking a long gulp before directing her attention back to her gear again. And Charles being Charles did the same: paid attention to her gear. He strapped everything and made sure her helmet was in place. When all their friends were ready to go they took the chairlift to the top of the hill, Yn admired the sight and tried to remember all the instructions given when they got there, instructions essentially for her and a small group who were not used to the sport, meanwhile, Charles and the others were just fine having done it since forever.

"Maybe we should go to the smallest mountain," Leclerc suggests when Yn wobbled on her feet almost hitting the ground without even starting the path down. "Or maybe take some classes before trying it, it should be safer," he adds.

"Stop it, Charles! You're too overprotective! I'm fine, I will be fine, it's not the first time I try something new, you gotta give me space to be," she states, and although her words are assertive, she uses her soft tone because she's well aware he wasn't doing it on purpose. The thing was, Charles was afraid of her getting hurt, or worse, losing her, so he would always make sure she was safe, he would move heavens and earth so that Yn would feel ok because he knew exactly how it felt to lose someone you love.

"I'm sorry," he says before dropping her mask to touch their cold lips in a kiss. Yn brings him closer and deepens it making sure he knows she got him and that she would be safe, there was nothing to worry about, that was what she tried to say with the kiss.

And that's exactly what happened: they were safe the whole day skiing around the resort. Yn fell on her butt and rolled down some feet, but so did their friends, and eventually so did Charles. It was a fun day, and Charles knew Yn would eventually fall again, but he would be there and that was the most comforting thing, for her, to know that someone was there to catch you or to console you; and for him, to know that he was that someone for her.

-ok alexa play We are the champions by Queen cuz millie finally finished the quick prompt list party yayyyy hope you guys liked it <3 lmk your thoughts, gimme your likes, reblogs, and comments, I appreciate it *mwah*

[petit-naldo]

[charlewiss-writes]

call it what you want / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 13: necklace (one-word november prompts!)

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: after a awful night at qatar gp 2021, you were looking for a way out and charles was right there. how did your relationship evolve when you didn't want anything to do with anyone, but he was, well, him?

t you're constantly attracting eachother?

warnings: abusive behaviour. max being an asshole but only for the fic (I don't believe he is actually like that, I just needed someone to play the villain)

author's note: I know that it's late but i really liked how this turned out 🥹 hope you like it too!

inspired by:

I recall late November, holdin' my breath

sunday, november 21, 2021.

after coming second place, you knew max would be furious. he was still in the lead of the 2021 world championship, but with lewis just a few points behind him, the pressure was too high. you saw his faked smile on the podium, and even though your cheers for your boyfriend were genuine, the smile on your lips didn't quite reach your eyes.

max wasn't aggressive, but sometimes, when he was really mad about something that happened on the track, he would raise his voice a bit too high for your liking, and close the doors a bit too hard for you to avoid flinching. and that's what happened when the dutchman entered his driver's room after he had finished all his duties.

"what are you doing here?" he said, after closing the door a bit too hard. you winced at the venom that distilled from his voice. you quickly began to apologize, even though there was no real reason for you to do. "I'm sorry, I thought you might need-"

"I don't need anything from you. leave." he said, not giving you a second look. "what?"

"i said leave!"

too stunned to actually talk back at him for taking his anger out on you, you simply stood up and left, careful not to make too big of a fuss and trying to go unnoticed. when you got out the door of the hospitality, walking as fast as you could, you accidentally bumped into someone.

Slowly I said, "You don't need to save me

But would you run away with me?"

Yes (would you run away?)

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"y/n, right?" you nodded, still looking at your feet to avoid looking straight into the man's eyes. "are you okay?". you mumbled a quick "i need to go" before yanking your wrist out of his touch. still, he went after you. "I know you maybe don't know me, but please" he ran a little, just enough to put his body in front of you again, impending your way. "how can i help you?".

with how freaked out you were about the whole situation that had occurred in the last 5 minutes, you hadn't realised that the man that was in front of you was charles leclerc.

you didn't actually know him personally, just by the little gentle nods when you were accompanying your boyfriend to the races. still, he had always been friendly towards you, but that didn't mean you two were close. but he was your only way out of there, and there wasn't anything you wanted more than to get away from max, as quickly as possible, in whatever way you could.

"can you get me out of here?"

Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night

he nodded enthusiastically, looking intentionally at your eyes. it was like he was seeing right through you, like he knew about everything that went downhill inside the building behind you. and with that sympathetic look that could light up the whole night, he grabbed your hand and you two made your way out of the track, thankfully avoiding prying eyes.

All my flowers grew back as thorns

Windows boarded up after the storm

He built a fire just to keep me warm

the first few days where hard.

you didn't know charles that well, and he understood why you didn't feel comfortable talking about what happened that sunday night. after all, max was his friend first, and you thought that he wouldn't believe whatever you had to tell him if that meant going behind his friend's back.

but he proved you wrong.

day after day he called you, visited the place where you were staying, making sure you were okay, that you had everything you would need without actually having to leave, avoiding running into your now ex boyfriend. charles was doing everything in his power to help you through this time, but still giving you the space you desperately needed, wanting to get away from the racing world.

thankfully, max hadn't called you after everything that happened. it seemed like he understood the message quite clearly after you went back to your shared place and took everything with you.

All the drama queens taking swings

All the jokers dressin' up as kings

They fade to nothing when I look at him

monday, december 13, 2022.

the speculations about your breakup had started quickly due to your disappearance when the next weekend rolled around. it was weird, especially after being by max's side through the whole season. and even though the dutchman didn't actually confirm or deny the breakup rumors, when he won the 2021 world driver championship and had another girl cheering for him, it became quite clear that you two were over.

charles and you had grown closer since that night in qatar, and after abu dhabi, he flew as quickly as he could back to monaco. not only because he desperately wanted the season to be over after finishing seventh in the standings, but because he wanted to see you as soon as possible, to assure that you were doing okay after max's little show the day before.

"what are you doing here?" you were a little surprised to see charles back at your place, in monaco, after watching him on tv a few hours before, racing on the other side of the world. "wanted it all to end as soon as possible. took the first flight back home" he hugged you and rubbed your back while doing so. you moved aside, so he could step into your apartment.

"i know you saw the little stunt he pulled yesterday" he mumbled, seated in your couch with his arms resting on his knees, looking at the floor. he never referred to max by his name when he was talking about him with you, not that it happened often. being a harry potter die-hard fan, he preferred to call him by voldemort's nickname in the series, he who must not be named. it was a silly thing to do, but it always made you smile. you sat next to him and put your palm on his knee, reassuringly. "i'm just glad you got tenth place" you smiled, and now he turned his head, connecting his blue eyes with yours. "i'm sure you'll do better next season".

And I know I make the same mistakes every time

Bridges burn, I never learn, at least I did one thing right

monday, february 14, 2022.

"can we go out tonight?" charles looked at you with pleading eyes, while laying on your stomach. "you're sure?" you said, clear doubt in your voice. being valentine's day, you knew that if anyone saw you, they would put two and two together and figure that between charles and you there was something bigger than a friendship.

not that you really cared about what anyone would say, but it would be like throwing a match to a gasoline tank, inevitably exploding, and you were afraid that it would break you two apart. charles would be called a bad friend, a traitor, like anyone apart from you three knew what truly happened between you. and you would be called every name on the book. so you wanted to avoid going public for however long you could, keep your situationship in the dark.

"yes, are you?"

after everything that happened with your ex, you had almost promised to yourself that you wouldn't date another driver on the grid. and it wasn't intentional, but how could you not fall for charles when he was an angel sent from heaven?

My baby's fit like a daydream

Walking with his head down

I'm the one he's walking to

saturday, march 20, 2022.

going against your friend's advice, you decided to join charles on the first race weekend of the season. it was your first race back since everything went downhill in qatar, so you were nervous about running into max or any redbull's employees, knowing that your presence would eventually be disclosed to the dutchman. so, you remained at all times on charles' trailer, where usually no one came close, and no one apart from his pr manager and carlos knew about you turning up to bahrain.

not even charles, as you didn't want to distract him from qualifying.

only after getting pole, for the first time of the season, carlos was the one responsible to tell his monegasque friend that you were actually there. he almost was as quickly as his car when running through the paddock, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. once he made it through the door, closing it fast to avoid any spying eyes, he reached for you, already standing on the middle of the room, prepared to congratulate him on his achievement. "I knew you could do it, love!"

"everything for you".

I want to wear his initial

On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

thursday, august 12, 2022.

even though you were acting like a couple for a bit now, and everyone that knew you thought that you were, in fact, together, you two weren't official yet. not because you didn't want to, but you wanted to avoid moving too fast, and charles understood your decision. you were seen at the track a couple of times now since the season started, always by the monegasque side, but walking behind him, careful to keep your distance.

but now, since the summer break had started, you had spent every waking moment together in your apartment, almost attached to the hip. considering that he would be going with his family on a trip soon, you didn't want to lose any moment you two could enjoy, not wanting to miss him later, even though it would be inevitable.

"why don't you come with me then, ma belle?" charles said, while packing the things he kept at your house on a suitcase. you laughed a bit, thinking that he was joking. when you saw his serious face, you got up from the couch and went to hug him from behind. "maybe another time, love. now you have to rest, spend some time with your loved ones".

"then you should be there too" charles turned his head a bit so he could kiss your temple. he whispered in your ear "wait, i have something I've been waiting to give you."

you weren't good with surprises, so you stood up quickly after charles had gone to grab whatever he had on his jacket. pouting, you said "what is it, charles?"

"don't be inpatient and close your eyes for me, love" he called with a tone full of mischief. you laughed a bit and put your hands covering your eyes, to avoid the urge to spy. "put your hands out" charles commanded and you obliged, extending your palms face up towards where you assumed he was standing.

he deposited a small box that, once he told you it was okay to open your eyes, you could see that was white. opening it you saw a beautiful necklace with a little c letter on it, small but still visible enough. "i know this could be too soon for you, but i need to do this. you can call it what you want, but please, will you be officially mine?"

smiling, you answered softly. "nothing i would want more, charles".

[essie060]

Pierre: Charles and I are having a baby. Yuki: That's gre- Pierre slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

lestappen + beach day

The whistle blows. The spike was solid. There was no way it was out. It was simply impossible. He’d worked perfectly with Pierre on it. Pierre going low on the dig, Lando shouting when Charles leapt and smashed it down the court, right in the gap where two bodies stood.

It was good. And Charles is good at a lot of things. But the problem was, the other person standing on the other side of the net, looking shockingly muscular while topless, of course had to be one Max Verstappen.

(It’s very hard not to stare at the gleam of his boobs while Charles stalks up to the net. He adjusts his sunglasses. That is what they did in the films. So he can channel being cool for now, too.)

“It was not over the line. Absolutely not.”

“Mate.” Max replies. “You can clearly see there is a dent there.”

“The edge of the ball did not touch that line.”

“Are you blind?”

“The way your chest is shining? Yes, perhaps.”

Somewhere off court, Alex makes an ooh noise. Somewhere off court is the sound of George slapping Alex’s shoulder, ostensibly to make him shut up.

On the back of Max’s court, Oscar adjusts his cap. “Listen, it’s a friendly—”, but the noise dies in his throat as Charles shoots him a look.

“It’s not my problem if you’re so easily distracted.” Max continues. He steps closer to the net, and rests his hands on his hips.

“And it’s not my fault if you’re blind and can’t see that the ball was clearly out.”

As if sensing that this is going to take a while, Oscar rolls his eyes and goes to open the cooler with the popsicles. Lando follows in quick succession, and Pierre mutters a few choice words in French that Charles chooses to ignore.

Charles feels like his mother’s carefully taught decorum is the only thing keeping him from smacking Max or escalating the situation to something even worse to contemplate, and certainly against FIA parental guidance rules.

“Why are you always being so difficult, Max?”

Max shoves up his sunglasses higher on his head. Charles realises with a start that Max’s nose is sun-flushed, and he’s got the start of some freckles just below his eyes.

(Charles will spend too much time staring at the ceiling fan later in bed, trying not to remember the exact placement of these very freckles.)

“Because, Charlie.” Max says, carefully, clear enough for the whole court to hear, “I think you like it quite a bit when I do.”

[lilsmv1]

august - MV1 (1/?)

- you're on your own kid [pt1]

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Juliette Durand

This is a story for the Max (and Taylor Swift) girlies. 

masterlist

Summary: They were doomed from the start. Two completely different worlds colliding, there was no way this could work. But what happens when they keep running into each other, as if gravity was pulling them together. 

Trope: slow-burn af

(*dialogues in italic are meant to be in French, I’m just too lazy sksksks)

Word count: 1,1k

A/N: This is the first chapter guys! I'd love some feedback :) Enjoy !

Having recently graduated meant finding a job and getting your life together.

But Juliette was only 25, how was she supposed to know for sure what she wanted at this point in her life? 

Juliette was completely lost. She wanted to do everything and nothing at the same time. Everyone expected her to know everything, especially her parents.

Instead of facing their incessant questions on the matter, she ran away, in hopes of overcoming her current situation.

Hence why Juliette booked her tickets for Italy, and found herself wandering the streets of Orta San Giulio.

Juliette felt at peace here, the sound of the water banging against the boats, the cool breeze gently brushing her cheek, the smell of sea water. She didn't know anyone, and no one knew her. No one to expect her to be anything.

She was strolling through a bookshop, her fingers brushing the edges of the books as she went. Her eyes lit up as her hand touched her favorite book. She couldn't even tell how many times she'd read it, but it always had the same gut-wrenching effect on her. She took one last glance at the book before leaving, Martin Eden, by Jack London, a fan favorite, or at least hers.

As she left the store, Juliette’s phone rang. It was Pierre. 

“Ju?”

“Yes Pierre?”

“Did you arrive safely? You were supposed to text me once you get there.”

“Sorry dad!” She laughed. Pierre was her best friend and he could be a tad bit overprotective sometimes. 

“You know I worry about you. How are you feeling?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just need time to figure things out for myself” Juliette was lying. She wasn’t fine. Her anxiety was really getting the best of her lately.

“I know, and you’ll figure it out. You’re the clever one, you’ll find your path” Replied Pierre, trying to reassure her.

“Easy for you to say, “Mister I always wanted to be a Formula One Driver”” .

Juliette and Pierre met when she was in middle school. They actually met in detention. Pierre was there after talking back to a teacher and Juliette was there after throwing her eraser on a friend. He was three years older than her and immediately saw her as the sister he never had. Since then, she has been cheering for him throughout his entire career, being there for each milestone. She was very proud of him.

“What can I say, I have always dreamt big” laughed Pierre “By the way” he added “Kika is coming to spend a couple days with my family next week, will you be there?”  Pierre asked.

“Of course! I can’t wait to see her again!” Juliette was so happy to see Kika again, she was a real sweetheart. She was glad Pierre had found her. 

“Well I gotta go Pierre, I’ll call you back during the week, alright?”

“Ok, take care Ju, love ya!”

"Love you, see you soon!" replied Juliette.

Juliette cherished her friendship with Pierre more than anything. They couldn't see each other often due to his intense schedule, but he was always there for her and vice versa. To her, he wasn't Pierre Gasly, he was just Pierre, her best friend from middle school. She felt really lucky to have such a friend by her side.

Juliette kept exploring the city for a couple hours. As the evening went on, she decided to grab a bite in the nearest restaurant. Once she settled, she pulled out her film camera, snapping candid shots of the people surrounding her. 

That camera was always in her hand, having thousands of film rolls at home, each capturing snippets of her life.

She watched the people through her lens throughout the whole dinner, until her gaze fell on a pair of piercing bright blue eyes already staring back at her. She slowly lowered her camera, and looked away shyly, embarrassed that she'd been caught red-handed.

She looked back up and that’s when it hit her. She knew those dashing blue eyes. They belonged to none other than Max Verstappen, one of Pierre’s fellow drivers. Except for Charles, she had never met any of them, trying to stay away for the spotlight as much as possible. 

Juliette was completely mortified, and to make matters worse, he was headed in her direction.

“Ciao” he said when he reached her, cringing at his own attempt to speak Italian.

It was all it took to make Juliette burst out laughing, a mixture of surprise and nervousness.

After seeing Max’s defeated look, Juliette pulled herself together.

“I’m sorry”, she said “It’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to speak Italian”. 

This made Max smile. 

“You speak English… then, made a fool out of myself here, didn’t I?” he asked, chuckling.

“Kind of, but it was entertaining” she softly replied with a grin. Realising he had been standing there for five minutes, she invited him to sit with her, which he did.

"I'm Juliette by the way"

"Nice to meet you Juliette, I'm Max"

“So,” he kept going, “did you take any nice pictures, hopefully some with me in them” he said smirking. 

“So you did see... Well, I would’ve but I got a little interrupted” said Juliette.

"Don't worry, I'm flattered" he replied laughing.

"Don't go feeling too special, I take many candid shots of strangers... Although it might sound weird like that" she laughed. "I just find it beautiful to capture snippets of life".

"Well you definitely make it sound beautiful" he replied with a warm smile, making her blush.

They stayed like this for a while, chatting about this and that, although Max failed to mention that he was an F1 driver and Juliette, on her part, failed to mention that she knew who he was and that Pierre was her best friend. They both did not want to make this conversation weird, knowing that were never going to see each other again anyway.

"Well, Max, it was lovely to meet you, but I think I'm gonna head out" said Juliette after a while.

"Yeah me too, have a good night Juliette" replied Max with a smile.

"Good night Max" said Juliette softly before leaving.

They each went their own way, a smile on their face as they though about this one-off encounter.

But after all, Orta San Giulio isn't a big town. Who knows, they might run into each other again.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (23/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.

Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!

Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 

"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."

Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."

Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."

"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 

"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"

As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 

"I didn't think she'd call you."

She?

"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."

Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 

You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.

"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."

"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Maman -"

"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"

"Maman -"

"She could go public with it!"

"Maman -"

"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"

"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."

As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"

Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."

Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"

You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.

"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."

Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."

"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 

"Pasta e pollo sounds great."

Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."

"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.

"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.

"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"

He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."

You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."

He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."

You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"

He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."

"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."

His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 

"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"

Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.

You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.

"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 

"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."

"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."

"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 

Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."

"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 

"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 

"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"

"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.

"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."

His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.

"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 

"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."

"What's that?" 

"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."

The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?

"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 

"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"

The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."

The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.

He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 

"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."

Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 

Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -

"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 

"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 

"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 

"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."

You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."

His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -

"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 

Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 

When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 

You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 

Together. Together. Together. 

You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.

What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?

Together. Together. Together.

[bippiti]

catalyst clc16 x rockstar! reader

after the release of your new album, life has been hectic as you've been running around doing shows. only problem is you seem to have only one person on your mind. little do you know he's having the same issue

an part two! any feedback is appreciated and please like + rb!

if you want a visual guide for the band .

part one next part

tags @bloodyymaryyy @guiseppetsunoda @maxverstappendefender @charizznorizz

yourig

liked by king, charles_leclerc and 42,836,364 others

yourig thanks for coming out london! nyc see you soon x

view comments

user ughh i wish i couldve come :((

yourig next time lovee💜

user sounded so good

user anyone else gonna talk about the album afterparty???

user who cares bro😭 theyre adults and tbh they would be a power couple

user right?! ive been thinking the same thing, shes not a good influence on him

user im sorry do yk y/n??? how would u know that lmfao

king looking good!

liked by yourig

user where is the fit from???

user i think vivienne westwood!

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-

you sighed, scrolling through your comments. it had been almost a month after your albums release, and some people still were bringing up the hug with charles. i mean, seriously it was just a hug. it wasn't like you guys had made out or anything.

both your label and ferrari were sponsored by celsius, and your management had met with one of ferraris pr heads. they had agreed to work together to promote the new album, and had picked charles because he was a fan of your music.

you clicked instantly on the first day of set, but it also helped that you spoke fluent french (you had an obsession with indila when you were younger and forced yourself to learn it) the lack of a language barrier, coupled with the fact that you guys had similar interests made it inevitable that you both would become friends.

after the album launch party, you were exhausted. you had woken up at 4am for promo shoots, and had been running around all day before singing your whole album (which was around an hour long) to the attendees. it was fun, and you wouldnt trade your career for the whole world, but man you were tired.

as you were heading out, you spotted charles and you both stopped to talk

"tu as bien fait là-dedans" he said, smiling as he pushed his hands into his pockets (you did good in there)

"merci! les heures de pratique m’ont aidé. je pense que je pourrais oublier les paroles si j’essayais" you smile as he laughed (thanks! the hours of practice helped. i dont think i could forget the lyrics if i tried)

"en pratiquant son art on devient artisan" (practice makes perfect)

you nod, turning as you hear your bandmate siobahn call for you

you look back to him, saying your goodbyes and quickly hugging him before running after her.

that was it. just a friendly hug. it's not like he liked you, and if he knew you liked him, you doubt he would still be friends with you.

-

charles_leclerc

liked by yourig, pierregasly and 305,387 others

charles_leclerc i won. maybe next time @/pierregasly 😘

view comments

user just realized pierre had a chance to fork the king and the rook in

user not y/n liking this...

user so cute😍

pierregasly i almost had it

charles_leclerc of course you did

user my fav french men

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-

after having checkmate charles sat back, smiling smugly as he looked at pierre try and fail to make a move. giving up, he raised his hands in defeat.

"quand vais-je jamais te battre?" he said sighing as he chuckled (when will i ever beat you)

"peut-être dans une autre vie" (maybe in another life)

scoffing, pierre changed the subject.

"so i heard you're with some rockstar these days"

"i most definitley am not"

"sure, sure. you might not be dating her but i can tell you like her"

charles paused, having a mini crisis. ok. so maybe he did like you. he couldn't help it, honestly. throughout filming ,and even after he had grown to really admire you. not only just as an artist, but as a person as well. he honestly hoped you'd be able to meet up afterwards, but he hasnt been able to see you since. between his preseason training and your concerts, you both are rarely free, let alone in the same country.

he told all of this to pierre, who listened quietly, nodding along before telling him his masterplan. he was gonna help him out, what kindve friend would he be if he didnt?

-

hearing the notification sound go off on your phone, you picked it up. your eyebrows raised as you read it

part 3??

[watercolor-hearts]

Here are my Charlos stories for the Charlos fandom because I know you guys are having a hard time (I also am). I have some angst, fluff and hurt/comfort stories for you to read if you want to eascape reality a bit. All of my stories have a happy ending. ❤ You can find all of my other stories here and on Ao3 too.

Chicken Soup and Cuddles 1058 words • hurt/comfort • cuddling & snuggling • hugs • spoon feeding

Good Effects 977 words • heartbeats • cardiophilia • foreplay • fade to black • breathplay (if you squint) • kink discovery • fluff

Our baby girl 545 words • domestic fluff • family feels

Daydreams 100 words • teasing • neck kissing • sitting on one's lap

Dream turned into a nightmare 630 words • secret relationship • fluff • (after) first time • nudity • snuggling/cuddling • (a bit of) angst • closeted gay character

Part 2 2893 words • panic attack • hugs • coming out • homophobia • (emotional) hurt/comfort • cuddling

Perfect combination 568 words • fluff • cuddling • watching a football match (or trying to) • developing relationship

[earlgreyflowers]

Classical Conditioning (CL16)

A/N This is my first fic that isn't based off of a request, I hope you guys enjoy it

Pairing - Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Word count - 1.7k

Charles was always grateful for the support you gave him, by his side since won the F2 championship all those years ago. The two of you were inseparable, especially after you finished your degree. You were lucky enough to find a job that meant you could work from home, and so every weekend you would be in the paddock with Charles, always adorned in Ferrari red in some way. Everyone loved you, if not the content on your Instagram at the very least. You'd celebrated with Charles when he got his first win, when he won in Spa and in Monza, the Ferrari 1-2; everything you'd been through together.

But this season was already rough on Charles, from the strategy failures to the car itself, he was frustrated. He had no control over anything, so you hatched a plan. You were going to teach Charles to get used to not being in control, something he'd had throughout your relationship. You sat him down, leg bouncing nervously. Charles' concerned eyes met yours, his hand coming to rest on your leg, "It's okay mon cherie, you can tell me anything." He mutters, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your thigh. You release a deep breath, "I was thinking, that maybe, to help you with having less control, we could, uhm, try something new." You murmur, voice quiet. Charles' eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowed, "New?" He questions.

"In the bedroom?" You say, doubt creeping into your tone. "It's just, I think it might help you to be more comfortable, if it's not something you want to try that's totally fine, just an idea." You ramble, nervous to hear his response. "I want to try, I've kinda wanted to for a while to be completely honest, I think it would be hot." He tells you, soft smiling his gracing his cheeks as they turn a light rose colour. You return his smile, tension leaving your shoulders as the two of you discuss boundaries and ideas for the rest of the night.

The first time Charles asks you to take control is after qualifying in Spain. Charles found himself annoyed that after he seemed to be on the up the car had failed him again, leaving him in P19 for tomorrow's race. You ease him into it, simply teasing him with your mouth until he's begging you to just let him have something, to feel his orgasm within reach. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, suckling gently and dipping your tongue into the slit. He whines out at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, the vein of his cock throbbing against your tongue. You slide up his body, kissing away the tear the falls from his eye before leaning into his lips. The moment you wrap your hand around his cock and whisper against his lips, "Cum for me mon amour." He can't stop himself. He erupts in white over your fist, stomach clenching, thighs shaking, moans of thank you leaving his mouth. You remove your hand from his member, some of his cum covering your thumb. You tap it lightly on his lips. Charles eagerly opens his mouth, taking in your thumb and sucking it clean, eyes shut in pleasure.

After that night Charles' season seems to turn around again, 5 consistent points finishes in a row. Charles is adamant that it's down to your presence, grateful that you're by his side in support. Then Zandvoort happens. Between the contact in the opening lap and the missing tires, Charles was devastated. He was dead silent, the whole way back to the hotel, simply holding your hand and squeezing every couple of minutes. He stays silent as you open the door to the hotel room, skulking into the shower. You sit on the bed, waiting for him to return from the shower. He eventually kneels down in front of you, hair messy from the shower, towel tied around his waist. "I want to forget about it, please help me mon amour." He whispers, hands resting on your thighs. "How do you want me to help Charlie?" You ask, hand tilting his chin to look up at you. His eyes are lidded, clouded with lust as he stares into your own. "Want to make you feel good." He mutters, eyes fluttering shut when your thumb traces his cheeks. He worships you all night, first with his tongue, and then with his fingers, and then both. The sounds filling the room are filthy, your moans and his whines, the slurping sounds coming from his mouth against you. When he finally pulls away you trace your thumb over his lips, collecting your cum. Once again he takes your thumb in his mouth, savouring your taste.

You're convinced that your idea had helped Charles, he was doing well, top five finishes week after week. You stand in the Ferrari garage, biting your nail as Charles begins his final qualifying lap in Austin. It feels like you don't breathe, for the next minute and 34 seconds you stand stock still. P1. Charles had taken his third pole position of the season and the garage erupted, yells and cheers spilled out into the pitlane. You raced to find Charles, engulfing him in a hug and kissing his helmut as he thanks you profusely. Sunday came along and you had never been more nervous, praying that this went well for Charles. He drops down the grid through the race, losing pole position and eventually finishing P6 after Ferrari fail to come up with a good strategy... again. Just two hours later, both him and Lewis were disqualified. You're right next to Charles as they break the news to him, his face dropping in disappointment. "There's nothing I can do, it's completely fair. It's just so frustrating," he begins to explain, "I guess I'm just glad it's only P6 being taken from me and not a podium like Lewis." You wrap your arms around him once more, his head resting on your shoulder as he sighs. That night he asks you to help him once more, and you spend the night bouncing on his cock as he gags on your fingers. His spit spills out of his mouth as he cums inside you, eyes rolling back and cheeks flushed red.

The same routine continues, in Brazil after he is unable to start, he drags you back to his drivers' room. He locks the door before begging you to take him in your mouth, it doesn't take him long to cum, spilling his load down your throat. You hum against his length, continuing to suckle on the tip as his thighs quake. His whimpers increase as you push him as far as you can, mouth encasing his sensitive cock as his fingers fist into your hair. He eventually taps the side of your cheek and you let him out of your mouth with a pop, standing in front of him as he pants heavily. "So good to me mon amour, que ferais-je sans toi?" He mutters and you smile against his chest.

Vegas is his redemption, finally back on the podium. It was the perfect weekend for him, gaining control over the car and showing what he was made of. Being able to put himself on the podium with both Red Bulls causes you to beam up at him. Charles shoots you a wink, smirking at the thought of what the pair of you will get up to in celebration tonight. Slightly tipsy, the two of you giggle as you stumble through your hotel room door. Before you know it Charles is shirtless underneath you, panting as you scratch your nails down his chest, his wrists tied to the bed with his Ferrari neckties. He can't help but watch, his neck craning as you touch yourself. One hand down your panties as the other moves to palm his bulge. Your orgasm rolls through you, a moan of Charles' name leaving your lips as your back arches. You crawl over him, hovering over his thigh as you begin to use him for your pleasure. Your underwear discarded, you reach down, coating your fingers in your juices. Charles waits for you to run your fingers over his lips before opening his mouth wide, tongue out ready to taste you. He sucks your fingers dry, whining at the taste of you as you cum against his thigh. You use every inch of his body that night; his tongue, his fingers, his abs, his thighs. He's desperate to cum by the time you sink down on his length, begging you to just let him cum inside you. You take pity on him, grinding lightly and clenching your walls to drain his cock. He practically passes out when you're done, falling asleep against you as massage hand lotion into his reddened wrists.

Both of you breathe a sigh of relief by the time the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix rolls around. Counting down the days until you can say goodbye to the SF-23, the pair of you go out for dinner with some of the grid. George, Alex, Max, Daniel, Carlos, and their respective partners join you both. Laughter carries through the restaurant as George breaks out in a coughing fit from Alex telling ridiculous jokes. Charles' smile fills you with joy, grateful to see your boyfriend carefree for a change. He convinces the table to order dessert, ordering himself a tiramisu, claiming that it's one of the best he's had outside of Italy. He barely breathes as he shovels down the dessert, Carlos looking at him with a concerned expression. "Dios mio Charles, hungry are you?" He chuckles. Charles blushes lightly, nodding as you drops the spoon onto the plate. "Sorry, it's just really good." He laughs. You turn to face him, he has a small drop of cream on the corner of his lips. Without thinking you reach up, swiping your thumb against the corner of his mouth to collect the cream. On instinct Charles tilts his head, capturing your thumb in his mouth and sucking the cream off the tip with a hum. The pair of you freeze as everyone looks at you in shock. Lily and Carmen are giggling in the corner as George and Alex smirk. Max raises an eyebrow, as does Carlos, both smirking at you. Daniel is the first to speak, "That seemed a bit too natural for you there Charlie, do that often?" He laughs.

Charles blushes once more as a smile spreads across your face, your hand rests on his thigh squeezing lightly as you direct the topic of conversation elsewhere.

[leclvrc]

"Tell me what you want. In details." + Charles 🫶🏼

Charles presses his mouth, his beautiful face, directly over your cunt. Mouths at it. Breathes you in and groans.

Heat flushes up the back of your neck. A breathy moan escapes as you feel Charles roll his tongue up and down your pussy, lips to clit. Your head falls back when he nips at the swollen bud, mouths at it over your underwear.

You're wet already and he's barely fucking tasted you. Fuck.

"Belle," he coos over the fabric, hands moving up your thighs and to your hips. He crawls up the bed and between your legs. Leans in to kiss you, deep and filthy and wet. "Let's take these off."

You nod, eager and help pull them off your legs. You're naked now, but you've never felt more comfortable anywhere than beneath his eyes. He kisses you again, like a reward almost, for being so patient. For holding still as his hands trail back down your body. He follows them and all the way back on the floor. Slips beteeen your legs like he belongs there.

Charles looks devastating between your spread thighs.

His hands grip at your hips, your sides. Arm curling around one thigh as you dangle it from his shoulder. Kisses the tender skin just below where you crave him most.

His gaze meets yours and the desire in them becoming visible makes you feel lightheaded. Like you'll float right out of your body if it weren't for the hands he has on you. Then his eyes leave yours and he doesn't hesitate as he leans forward, presses a few chaste open mouthed kisses to your swollen bud. Your toes curl.

"Beautiful," he whispers, reverent. Like it's truly a sight he could never tire off. Then he twirls his tongue around your clit and down, looks up at you as he presses filthy kisses all along your pussy. You can't help but whine, whimper his name like you rarely do. But it seems to spur him on, like he waited for you to let go of your last bit of control.

"Tell me what you want," he says, whispers, almost drowned out by the moans slipping off your tongue. "Tell me."

You want to tell him, I can't. Want him to know that you couldn't string two words together if you tried right now, but then he pulls off. Disappointed maybe in your lack of a response. His hands remain on your hips anchor you though. You're grateful for them and the easy way he pulls you up by the hand.

Now staring down at him and his flushed cheeks, his blown pupils and sweaty hair, you can't believe how stunning he is. You thumb at his slick lips and shiver when he kisses the pad of it softly. He looks ruined even though he's the one taking you apart.

"I want you to-- keep doing that," you say, some of that edge returning. Charles likes being told what to do, this is no different. "And I want you to fuck me, Charles. Yes?"

Your hands fly to the sheets on either side of your hips as he gets back to work, sinful mouth working you over like it's something he's done all his life.

Falling back into the bed, your eyes flutter shut and you think you wouldn't mind having Charles on his knees for the rest of your life.

[f1prompts]

lestappen!!

RACE ENGINEER CHARLES X DRIVER MAX!! there's no way that charles would be as understanding as GP, it would be bickering married couple to the next level.

Either established relationship, or maybe they get together because another driver (lando?) calls max out for flirting with charles on live television.

DW: a bit of comedy, if possible

DNW; heavy angst

If you’d like to fill this prompt, click here for our Fills FAQ 💖

[charlewiss-writes]

(bad at) keeping secrets / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 8: hide (part of one-word november prompts!)

summary: charles and you were seeing eachother for quite some time, but still couldn't quite figure out how to tell your brother, pierre. (and maybe you don't need to)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!reader

warnings: not proofread! also, badly translated french lmao

charles and you had met in the early days of his career, back when he was still racing in karts just like your brother, pierre. you and your family spent your whole days accompanying your older brother who, just as charles', couldn't see himself doing any other thing that wish to be part of the formula 1 world one day.

eventually, all three of you grew up, still together. even though you spend less time with them due to their tight schedules, you hangout just enough to catch feelings for the monegasque. still, you were always too scared to do anything with charles, not wanting to disrupt the friendship the two boys had since they were kids.

but the more you tried to stay away from him, the closest you became. it's like you two were attracted like magnets. so now, three months after starting to see eachother, he was in your apartment in only his sweatpants after a night together. it was a sunday, and due to it being an off-week for him, you two were taking advantage of the little time you had together watching a movie on the tv while laying on your bed.

until your heard the sound of keys on your door lock. you got up and looked at charles, confused because you weren't expecting anyone, and found it strange that the person who was trying to get in had the keys in the first place. you thought that maybe a neighbor had got the apartment doors messed up since they looked all the same, but you quickly recognised the voice that reached your ears.

"ma colombe (my dove), you home?"

charles, who was close to falling asleep a second ago, had almost fallen to the floor, caught off guard by his best friend's presence. you had been keeping your relationship a secret until now, not knowing how or when was the right time to tell pierre that you had been seeing his best friend, despite his general warnings to not mess with any drivers -especially the monegasque-.

"please stay here and hide. i'll get him out as soon as i can" you whispered to him, giving the boy a quick peek on the lips before fixing your hoodie. that wasn't even yours in the first place. god, you hoped pierre didn't notice. "yes, i'm home" you said, closing the door as fast as you could, so he wouldn't see who was inside. "what are you doing here?"

"great to see you two" he huffed. you hadn't mean to come off as annoyed to him, knowing that this was off of character for you, who had always had a soft spot for your big brother. he continued "maman said you had forgotten a jacket, and since your house was on the way to mine i decided that I should drop it off" he said calmly, while handling you the piece of clothing. you smiled and nodded thanking him, but didn't say anything else. "what is it, chère (dear), something wrong?" he asked, now worried due to your lack of interaction. in a normal situation, you would have invited him to lunch, maybe talk a bit about how his last race went. but your silence made him suspicious. "sorry, I was quite busy back there, I was just working" you quickly answered. maybe too quickly.

"working in your bedroom?" pierre asked, switching his stare to the door where you had came from. "if you were working, why are you so flustered?"

"i-i'm not" your cheeks immediately flushed pink, and you knew that if he continued to ask questions, you'll be fucked. "okay okay, if you say. see you at maman'š'" you took a long breath, filling your lungs after holding your breath for a bit too long. but just when he was about to disappear through the door, you heard his voice, full of mischief, while screaming out loud "also, tell charles he needs to get a more subtle car if he doesn't want to be seen".